Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
546 · Jan 7
'pit of hell' (lake)
Georgia Jan 7
Wet falls on the striking lines of cobble
On the swerving paths of trouble
My socks are damp and my feet are cold
Light climbs on the dusky evening
Sharp as faerie wings
Hot like golden spring
My eyes are closed and
My hands are bound

There are rats at the dip of the grass before
The ***** to the water begins
Before the moulding wind sings
On the spine of a duck’s back
There are trees and trees and trees
That live in solace without wings
That rise with a curved branch
Towards the sky

Green air tinged durky damp
Leave spots on fading paths
Where my scared footsteps leave no visible mark
Is there a curse among the leaves?
A misgiving in the trees?
I open my door to a bumbling kettle
Go home breathing empty grey
To dream of the lake.
ah there's a lake near my house and it's so magical there I never stop thinking about it! it's not quite as dark as the lake in this poem, but you get the gist.

the title of the poem comes from the origins of the word 'lake' - it could mean 'pit of ****' in Old English, apparently :) dramatic, right? also I made up the word durky which was extremely fun.

horray for my first poem of 2019 :D
351 · Jan 23
catchlight
Georgia Jan 23
You should smile with your teeth.
I’d make you cups of tea half smiling with sleep
laugh sweetly when you spoke from fuzzy dreams
And measure the dimples in your freckled cheeks
When my eyes have betrayed me
I try to turn you inside out
But I haven’t found my reflection in your bloodstream
Though you are running through my veins like hot coffee.

You shouldn’t look at me
The buttons on your coat make me jittery and uncomfortable
Because I want to pull you by your hair
I want to meet your hazed stare and imagine me there
Living in the catchlight on the reflection of a hotel window
While you take off your clothes behind me
So I see your skin in the fogged up glass
shudder while your eyes burn into my back
and smoke rises from my spine.

You should love him a little more
He’s been on the phone since four and I hear his yorkshire accent from before
like an axe being jolted into the dip of my chest.
Bouqets of roses by your door and I’m the crippling thorns
I feel like shaking hands between my knees
the blood dripping from my sleeves
How cruel I have been
Although my heart is by my feet and ill at ease
You should smile with your teeth
Even if it isn't for me.
hi I'm back!

I found out that the word catchlight has been added to the dictionary and it means the reflection of light in a person's eye - I rly liked it so I thought I'd incorporate it here!

I hope you enjoyed this poem :) the girl I wrote this about will probably (hopefully) never even know how I feel but honestly I don't care anymore.  I hope he makes her happy.

it feels good to make a mess of a situation into words. I hope you could see the soft progression here from happy fantasy to painful reality. if my poem makes you feel something then it's a success<3
155 · Feb 14
fingers
Georgia Feb 14
There’s sunlight on your cardigan in the cream afternoon
And in your eyes. Sunlight like starlight
Like flickering skies.
It’s just- there’s something about seeing you-
I feel my ribcage in my throat
Like a fluttering bird next to you
I can’t lose. But with my hands underneath your spine
My fingers against your lifeline, your heart tells me
You’re not mine.

I wish it a lie

I’ve worn a collar for a while that reads 'yours'
When I see you smile
and when I tug it burns my skin bright red
It turns my blood to space dust
So when I look through my vein’s musk
There’s remnants of sunlight like starlight
Moon white
You feel as fingers against the back of mine
That don’t fit - or fit just right.

It is a lie.

He has a beard. Does it scratch against your chin?
I will have met him and the traces on his back
Fingers brushed over his skin
Can you feel the pulse under his spine?
Well I thought my vessels- your starshine-
Your blood mingled- mixed with mine
Boiled above him- under his bed.
Your bed-  I thought you said it was divine
But I am faltering even in my mind

I’m the lie.

Good morning. I’ll buy you a cup of tea
Don’t you feel- isn’t it- why can’t you see?
I’m breaking my fingers
So that the sunlight can go back where it belongs
So that I don’t- won’t- shouldn’t-
Can’t reach out to touch you anymore
I don’t want to hear the words mine
The cry from your spine
I have felt enough for brittle bones

And I-I

I lie.
happy valentine's day!!
ah I feel like this poem is odd just because I want it to be :) I'm experimenting!!

and I have experienced many feelings lately which, of course, is fantastic poem material.
55 · Apr 22
stargaze
Georgia Apr 22
aren’t you a constellation?
there’s stardust in the corner of my eye
stuck to the sole of my shoes
and curled into my hair
you flickered in a dream that passed by-
and was forgotten.
I didn’t think you were real until you leaned on me
and I was covered head to foot
in sparkling longing

you’re an entire galaxy.
didn’t I see you somewhere in the sky?
I’ve laid on the grass in the dark
reached my hands up to touch you
left my heart in a cloud
but there’s nowhere closer to you than when I close my eyes,
I can imagine your arms clearly
and I rest.

then, like a supernova.
it feels as if something exploded
perhaps it aches because pieces of my heart are drifting through my veins
maybe I feel warm because your words are like hot honey
soft on my tongue
sweeter than I thought
I can only see your constellation
and my eyes are blind to anything but stars

can I be a part of your space?
let me stargaze for a little while longer
just before I come back to earth
though the world spins steady on it’s orbit
I’m off beat, in awe
shaken at the thought of being yours
quietly watching all of your broken stars.
cover me in you, take me,
and I’ll breathe out stardust.
:’)
33 · Feb 9
deflower
Georgia Feb 9
If I’m nothing but a growing tree. If I drop the kettle
When I make a cup of tea. Will you stay with me?
I am growing down. I am losing ground
How do I learn to just be?
Breathing through hours. The air is sour
Time ticks away and deflowers
The water’s boiled blue
I have lost… I have to lose
I’m the tree unrooted.

— The End —