Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Diesel May 15
Look no further than The Westwood Winds!
Near the westward sky in the western sphere:

Where the sun has interest in your eyes
Like a lady's smile should her lover near:

Just past the trees grown medium-height
Over houses brick lie the treeline base

Just through black-tip wires sit with birdies tight
Where lakewater dwells in a creeky wake:
Diesel May 15
O' mommy bird, where have you gone?
I sit alone for some time now:
Or have your feathers lost their arms?
Or have you had another child?

O' mommy bird, where did you go?
You left some while and left alone:
O' mommy bird, don't leave me now
I have nothing else just as a child
Diesel Jan 2022
I made my grandma cry
with my own tears
one of my worst fears
to make my grandma cry
Diesel Jan 2022
Some field of ancient roses—
They all looked down on me:
Glew white stars to heaven's
Windows, and golden-rimed clouds
That sonorously speak
Diesel Jan 2022
I sit alone in cold wind breeze
At night some time out night air,
And cold wind finds my face homely
And light-***** shine their brightest blare

I'll see some hands that tread alone
All through night they sit alone
Somewhere the sun creeps up on me
But then the moon reminds my soul:

I walk alone along the sky
Sometimes I float and touch too high,
And then I float back down my keep
And felt as once I'd never been.
Diesel Dec 2021
And what you plan to do,
Green plant that sit in room?

Where thinks could be your dreams?
Or do you even dream at all?
What sunsets could you see?
Or swimming shore above?

And question me your roots,
In dirt that act like boots:

Are tickled they like hell?
In brown and white soil?
Can itchy get your face?
Does water run too deep?

Now look at me your leaves,
Which rarely bend from tree:

What age could they recall?
Of passions, dreams, and all?

And what you plan to do,
Green plant that sit in room?
Written Aug 24/21
Diesel Dec 2021
Blissful,
   Blissful,
      Blissful,
         Fall the starry skies:
      And the clouds that chime above
      In night time do the otters cry
         And wolf-men shout beside the dove:
      
      Angels sing in pockets queer,
         Fairies dance along the spark,
      Boughs of faces soon appear
         As branches watch throughout the start:
      
      Owls sing as crickets please,
         The moon lifts her vision for the sky,
      Blissful,
         Blissful,
            Blissful,
               Fall the starry spheres:
            For every moment of the night.
Written Aug ?/21 Revised Dec 29/21
Next page