Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Jul 2015 Courtney
Sarah Spang
Sour.
 Jul 2015 Courtney
Sarah Spang
You are the sweetest of my torments.
You're the tangible torture of citrus
The bite followed by the ****
Fresh and unbearable in the same instance

You're the lemon zest scent;
Sultry, as I quarter fruit
In my hot summer kitchen.
You're the juice in the cut
As the knife knicks my thumb;
The sweetness meeting the wild coppery tang
of blood in my mouth.

You're in the twist in my chest
That exists somewhere between my heart and my stomach
Both organs being wrenched apart...
When I see your picture
And remember that we haven't spoken in months.
Like my poetry? Toss a penny or two my way ;-)

http://www.gofundme.com/Sarahquil
 Jul 2015 Courtney
Julia Elise
selfish boy
took what wasn't his

young girl
more than a stolen kiss

deceitful boy
somehow gets his way

naive girl
wants him to stay

convincing boy
says all the right things

innocent girl
to the words she clings

irresistible boy
fills her head with lies

rebellious girl
morals she defies

detestable boy
destroys her heart

hopeful girl
love was short

thoughtless boy
drops her, he's gone

poor girl
still holds on
My mentor spoke to me of two rivals,
Once, they had been friends in some distant past.
But the years have eaten their love and made grudges manifest.
|The two shattered into broken glass

To my wise master I asked only one,
One question... In all my range.
One question I asked:
“What changed?”

In the outskirts, at the home of my daughter
Where you can stare at the stars or passing cars
None more brighter than the other,
We share memories of my grandmother.
In the photographs, she looks so much younger.
Not frail, but a fighter, lover and saintly|

To me, she asks plainly,
One question, and one question only.
Sifting through the ages of years past:
“What Changed?”

At the kitchen table, feeling inadequate,
My lover screaming and frustrated,
I recall memories when we had been intimate.
Times when movement was made for desire and not duty
|A calendar of nights left in confused abstinence

I interrupt.
She delays rage.
I beg,
“What Changed?”

_

In the last few hours of night
The dawn reaches me at last.
I had locked moments-
Literal seconds of time as the truth.
But it was always changing
In flux and morphing.
Turning into something new
Just for a moment, and then on again
“What Changed?”
Everything.
Always.
 Jul 2015 Courtney
lucy winters
I enjoy distance
Long drives with no destination
Music blaring,  miles growing

I enjoy distance
Long walks to nowhere
The peace calms my restless soul

I enjoy distance
Little steps each day
Away from difficult situations

I enjoy distance
Between people and places
And me

I enjoy distance
It gives perspective
Emancipation

I enjoy distance
I also enjoy coming home
When distance has run its course
 Jul 2015 Courtney
pragya santani
And with the first showers
Comes the kind of sadness
Which only half loved lovers
Can feel.
Next page