Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Last night,
my thoughts were  of the coming days
i got up even before dawn
preparing to face tomorrow.

everything about tomorrow
is on the table...like a briefing on what to
expect...souls awaiting...sunny, stormy days
newly sprouted worries, and old ones that
refuse to go...food talks...pride...errands,
the good and the bad...everything,
all arranged on a platter.
it's like reading a big book...filled with
nows...yesterdays...and tomorrows..
thick with pages that turn fast, or slow,
pages that are bright, unwrinkled,
others are flapping...twisted, crumpled,
even torn......depending on the wind,
which could be breezy...or gusty.

some pages bring long-lasting smiles
some are too wet with tears
some cause a blink...once, twice, or thrice;
a brief way of escaping...yet,
truths are there when eyes open again.

we ponder over the pages skipped,
for clarity...for closure...not for turning back
there's no other way.......but ahead...
....like the wide and endless freeway,
painted lines divide lanes...define direction
...explaining continuity...moving forward,
no matter what.......because,
tomorrow
always comes

>>>>> ::: >>>>> ::: >>>>> ::: >>>>>



Sally

Copyright January 8, 2018
rrab
bulbous clouds gather
over the east side of town
journeying coastward
 Feb 2018 H A Vitatoe
Ryan Holden
Golden elegance
subtly peeks over grass
With spying brown quartz.
 Feb 2018 H A Vitatoe
ryn
sometimes
my universe
seems to snap
into place

but more often
than not,
it’s in
perfect disarray
You may not have pulled the trigger
but your fingerprints were on every bullet
that left the barrel of the gun
so when looking at the dead heart
pinned and bleeding on the wall
know you did your part to stop its beating
and that innocence is something you can't reclaim
with the white lies painted on the teeth
framed within your crooked smile
and now I see your beauty
was nothing more than smoke and mirrors
off the reflection of the gun
 Feb 2018 H A Vitatoe
r
Sing-ing
 Feb 2018 H A Vitatoe
r
Poetry
to me
is taking
my pain
and making
it sing.
 Feb 2018 H A Vitatoe
Star BG
Night
 Feb 2018 H A Vitatoe
Star BG
Words at bedside
echo resonating against
bedpost and springs.

Pulsating to weave
like blanket giving comfort
on cold night.

Words at bedside
ignite self to drift  
swirling around in moment.

A moment where moon shines
and dreams expand with whistling wind.
Inspired by Chris Neilson Thanks
Next page