Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
DP Younginger Jun 2018
Twiddling thumbs, stiff with a wobbly fidget,

A slight tick in the present thought of the pending arrival,

A silent yawn and flare of the nostrils, day after day,

A tickle, ricocheting like twinkling stars in the black skyline,

Descending from the kneecap and shivering south like freezing raindrops falling single file down a window,

You sit; I am the passerby,

I smile; You bat an eyelash,

Wondering if I will stay constant in my path or stop to smell the floral design; a future sunk into the bud,

A past with a blooming, yet stunted growth,

A yearning to be in a field with your flower, twisting together a ladder for the bumblebee,

Awakened with the sting of tomorrow and drooling in the waiting, for the patient to cough,

I will clutch my breath until I am called into your office.
A poem about not being able to act on your future in the present moment. Feeling stuck in the now.
DP Younginger Jun 2018
Stone walls like office buildings on a starry night,

Standing at attention, they salute to the masters of the world,

Tiny faces embedded in the grooves of each sector,

Playing stiff, as the wind pushes roughly through the evergreen seaway,

Wheels spinning continuously as you pass through communities; never ending hamlets of pine,

A silent coastline of towering majesty,

Like a segmented train, stretching miles long and dancing like a caterpillar,

Every bushel peaking over the other, knowing their role,

Waiting patiently like the caged animal, welcoming adventure with the twist of a ****,

The largest hammock of an ecosystem crying out for you to bare witness,

Whispering softly in the breeze,

Come play.
I love Colorado. 2018.6.14.
DP Younginger Jun 2018
Correcting lines,

Painting new stripes with clear coded markings,

Her curiosity is like an allergy to the heart,

Constantly craving to itch, but my reach is coming up short,

Torturing me with her innocent smile; a blushing cheek,

Eyes glowing in the direction of the teacher; an aspiring Jedi,

All I gave her was an answer,

A simple coat of honesty like armor to the Knight,

Abstractly patching together a robe of consistency,

She absorbs my words like a bubble attaching itself to another; becoming the giant,

An ever growing cloud of thought steaming fatter and fatter with the act of knowing,

I gush inside with the discovery of my own blemish to language,

My absent mind on autopilot as I glide into her turbulence,

Eyes completely stuck in this string of moments, one after the other,

I sit on my porch and wait for them to come home.
DP Younginger Jun 2018
Dorothy is captivated in her own mind,

Her eyes step into a colorful illusion of a an altered universe,

An outer parallel that consists of tangerine trees and marmalade skies,

Her perspective lost in kaleidoscope vision and sugar coded mountains,

The sky is a meadow of green and the grass is an ocean of cerulean,

A second dose catches her in a flick; a motion pictured mindset,

Her eyes have completely lost focus,

Gum drop rainballs and pixie stick gravel,

She is absent minded of all that is telling,

A third hit and she disappears,

Flying through the sky, she dreams of the life of an average person,

Reality swapped with insanity,

She lives a dream and dreams what others live.
Written in a creative writing course that I took in High School.
DP Younginger Jun 2018
What lurks inside this book of secrets?
A juicy tale waiting to be exposed?
A lie that finds justice?
A simple story with a complex ending?
A poem with a theme to which no one comprehends?

No one, except the narrator behind the first person speaker,
The Creator,
The mastermind behind all that follows,
Me...him...or her...who knows?
A book which holds the mysteries of my deepest ink,
A notepad with my scribbles and scrabbles written with a blank pen,
Key words and phrases that could be polar opposite of what is actuality,
Processed under a microscope of human mind and matter,

Welcome to my world,
My realm,
Where I make the rules and you play actor to attempt the follow,
A curiousity that will always force a pondering upon your solidified wonders,
A future of revealing knowledge,
A pocket watch spinning in opposite directions,

My words cannot be learned or taught,
They play with the mind and bombard every intricate thought bubble,
Digging deeper to find meaning in the mine of a premeditated stanza,

Is it a happy ending?
Is it a truent fib?
Is it a creative mixture of stories and lines?
Or would you call it a poem?
That is the bone destined to be buried indefinitely, waiting for the dog,

I chizel in this binded slate to uncover the underground,
I believe these silent dialogues are for you, to drive you crazy to unravel,
The anticipation of tearing off the wrapper to discover the gift,
It is brain boggling,
Thoughts twisting like twine around the neck,
This containment is insanity,

So you think you know my words, do you?
You can't see the dimensions existing in this plane,
This ink, this graphite, this wonder,
These perplexing strands of ideas mean nothing to you, but they feed,
I think for thought and write to feel right,
I make to believe and believe to make,

This notebook is red,
A color blended with blood and pain,
The color that stains forever,
A color with such anger to its personality,
I'm ill-tempered by the ignorant; the ignorance,
A few lines remaining and still so much left to fight for,
A never ending dotted line that trails a crescendo for all of eternity,

This poem lives for the stranger whom uncovers the mystery; a Hardy Boy,
The one whom I undoubtedly love,
The one whom comprehends my inner struggle and becomes ally to my thoughts,
She would be my dictionary,
I would be her words,
She is my pages,
I am her binding,

The reason these ideas grow from this stem through the flow of my arm,
Along my fingers,
Into my utensil,
And onto the absent surface,
The dull end of this pencil knows all,
Together, we write this novel of uncertainty,
Bleed my thoughts,
But you still will not reveal the master plan behind my words,
For this color stains and ruptures the soul,

I am crazy,
Insane in the brain,
But my desires?
Realistically bleeding,
As the stranger, you narrow your focus on this lightbulb like a fly on the wall,
Explore the mind,
Find what is so secretly kept safe,
But remember,
My thoughts...
They stain.
Written in 2008 and one of my longest poems. I remember writing it in my Spanish class, completely in my own world.
DP Younginger Jun 2018
I float in the center of confusion and paranoia,
These days, all I can do is ponder in traps of thought,
These thoughts race and beat me to the finishing ribbon,
I inhale with a treacherous risk of it being my last,
I must part from you,
You hold dear to my heart, but my heart can't succumb to your cancer,
It's killing me inside to know you're always around,
Just give me a few days with my feet on the ground,
Soon, we will fly high together again,
But today, I must knot this leash to the leveled Earth,
It's just not the same anymore,
I can't be alone with your envious smile,
You take me to places I do not wish to follow,
My hopes and dreams are fading away with your evaporating smoke,
You tell me to sore through the clouds, but I stay grounded to this planet by my morals,
What used to feel right, now feels so wrong,
Down seems to be up and life is surely turning over,
You're pulling me into the surface like a gel conforming to its surrounding plane,
It is my fault for loosening the grip,
You're gone now,
I have given up on you,
I've left town, but I'll return when it is convinient,
Just keep flying high like you do and I will meet you at the podium,
This is a race,
But, last place finishes first,
Be safe,
Be smart,
Don't fly too high...
Written in 2010. In the library at Orange High School.
DP Younginger May 2018
The girl who catches the eye, like fireflies in the fog,

A majestic mountain, towering over my every thought with clouds of tomorrow,

Fingers like feathers, tickling my heart with a few short strokes,

A smile so free, teeth like ivory keys shining in song, a tongue giving directions,

Unbelievably shadowed by immense rays of fascination, I can't look around her,

So innocent and strong, a face solid with concrete dimples, weighing the world down with her happiness,

Loves me and I her, eyes like sparkling diamonds, hoping that I can be her jeweler, selling my love at half price,

Looks at me with this fierce growl and I stare back with prey-like tendencies,

Is more amazing than a soft winter blizzard, quietly falling over and over again, for me,

First poem written in 2018. Very simple with no edit.
Next page