Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
  May 2017 juno
Lady RF - Rosalie Fayad
Pass me my pen,
I'm ready to start writing again,

I need to express myself,
It's time to take my heart off the shelf.

Give me a few moments of time,
My soul needs to release a new rhyme,

Let me breathe again,
It's been too long,  I haven't written since this morning, at half past ten.

By Lady R.F. (C)2017
Hope this makes you smile!
  May 2017 juno
Christina Murphy
i stopped writing about love and all the people
that begged for rations of my lips and eyes
i've left the pages white and neat and empty
i've kept the plastic wrap around my mind.

i stopped trying to feel something worth describing
with rhythm and with simile and rhyme.
i am collected in this box of bones and sutures
i am impossible to love past dinner time.

i stopped shaking from my heavy, dreamless sleeping,
the timing belt to which my feet are strapped.
i am locked into a ground that can't broken,
guarding mines of love like gold that can't be tapped.

i stopped writing about depth and loss and body
i packed and froze my stock of butterflies
i've kept in cages all the wild phrases
that once wandered like balloons into the skies.

i stopped turning all the pages of the scripture
i pray only after two glasses of wine
i dug until i found the clay of chaos
then stabbed my shovel dully in its spine.

i stopped writing about love and all it's meanings
i am suspended on a rope above my heart
cracking slowly under weight of empty spaces
why fall in love when you can fall apart?
juno May 2017
My love, you are missed.
Even when you are not on my mind.
We were so short lived,
but I don't mind.
You're worth the wait of a century.
The moments you gave me were timeless and infinite.
The look of your eyes on me, oh joy.
Without realizing,
you were taken for granted.
The great mistake.
I was confused in the heart,
yet thought I knew.
What ever happened,
it's passed,
and you're not around.
You treated me wholly,
though we faded.
I think of Love,
How it shines.
And how
It's above all.
  May 2017 juno
Lady RF - Rosalie Fayad
I took a walk
All by myself,
Something
I often tend to do,

Whilst walking down
The nature strip
My mind was preoccupied
By pleasant thoughts of you!

I saw your perfect face
In every perfect rose ,

As I leant over to inhale their scent
It was as though your flesh
Was right under my nose!

Love was in the air,
It was written in the sky,
It was in the flowers and the trees,
It made me feel so high!

As I continued down the path
I looked up to the sky,

I saw you looking down at me,
You were a soft cloud
Slowly passing by!

Then I heard a little chirp
Coming from a bird
In a near by tree,

He began whistling
A most beautiful song,
I thought it was you,
Serenading me!

Love was in the air,
It was written in the sky,
It was in the flowers and the trees,
It made me feel so high!

As I followed the nature strip
And returned to my front gate,

I felt as though I had just returned
From one hell of a perfect date!

I took a walk
All by myself,
Something
I often tend to do,

Whenever I go out for a walk,
All I do is
Think about you!

Love was in the air,
It was written in the sky,
It was in the flowers and the trees,
It made me feel so high!

By Lady R.F. (C) 2017
  May 2017 juno
janelle
this is a love poem,
but i won't be gushing
about your enticing eyes
and perfect hair,
and to be fair,
i frankly won't care
if you lose them
because you are
so much more than
the strings on your scalp
and the stars in your sockets,
for your heart alone
punctured holes in my soul
and the way our fingers entwine
ties these bows
through the holes
in my soul
to keep me whole
and alive
= sorry, idk when to hit the enter key =
dedicated to him
  Apr 2017 juno
Lunar Vacancy
Vincent Van Gogh used to eat yellow paint because he thought it would get the happiness inside him.
Many people thought he was crazy and stupid for doing so because the paint was toxic, never mind that it was obvious that eating paint couldn’t possible have any direct correlation to one’s happiness, but I never saw that.
If you were so unhappy that even the craziest ideas could possible work, like painting the walls of your internal organs yellow, than you are going to do it.
It’s really no different than falling in love or taking drugs.
There is a greater risk of getting your heart broken or overdosing, but people still do it everyday because there was always that chance it could make things better.
Everyone has their yellow paint.
One of my favorites
Next page