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  Apr 2021 niann smith
Charles Bukowski
I even hear the mountains
the way they laugh
up and down their blue sides
and down in the water
the fish cry
and the water
is their tears.
I listen to the water
on nights I drink away
and the sadness becomes so great
I hear it in my clock
it becomes knobs upon my dresser
it becomes paper on the floor
it becomes a shoehorn
a laundry ticket
it becomes
cigarette smoke
climbing a chapel of dark vines. . .
it matters little
very little love is not so bad
or very little life
what counts
is waiting on walls
I was born for this
I was born to hustle roses down the avenues of the dead.
  Apr 2021 niann smith
Jon A Fernandes
Why,
When words calmly manifest the intimacy,
Our hearts render them asunder.
In just a sliver of time.

How,
When surrounded by souls dimly lit,
Do I feel as a death moth fluttering near a lamp.
Ceaselessly eternal.

What,
Can my lips say when my heart is burnt by fire.
What words?
When all are mean.

Where,
Are the seconds of every day gone?
Swallowed;
Except in frivolous pursuit or meaningless drudgery

When,
Could I raise my arms up without fear of falling,
Or be swept by Lethe.
  Apr 2021 niann smith
Tom Leveille
ground zero
i become aware of boundaries
i am a dog chasing cars
i sing your voicemail to sleep
there are no surgeon general warnings
to tell me that
the objects in the mirror
are more depressed than they appear
so how do i tell you
that there are parts of my life
that move slower
without you in them?
or that i look for you every day
in emails & unanswered calls
in the sunrises
i didn't choose to be awake to watch
that i sometimes still stare at doorways hoping you would walk through them
   *stage 1
you tell your new lover you've got a splinter and they pull the sound of your body falling asleep on mine out of your fingertip
   stage 2 your new lover says something at dinner that makes you choke so they call 911 & the paramedics do the hymleich not knowing you would ***** our promises all over the the restaurant
   stage 3 your new lover surprises you by cleaning the house & washes the shirt you kept next to the bed, not knowing it was the last thing you had that smelled like me
after
people always ask
what was loving her like?
after a really long silence
i just say
"it must be nice"
but i never say
it's watching paint dry
i never say
it's a window seat in hell
i don't tell anyone
about the dreams
where i am reading you
bedtime stories
each one is a different way you die
& every time i can never save you
dreams where what i think
are angels in my bedroom
are just homeless versions
of myself you never loved
i have dreams
where i pay someone to shoot me
just to see if you would cry
just to see
if you would cradle my body
i don't tell people
that loving you is like
playing piano
for someone who can't hear
that it's hitting repeat
on my favorite song
& forgetting the words
every time it starts over
that it's finding out
there's no milk after you already
poured yourself a bowl of cereal
it's getting locked in the dark
& being told to
look on the bright side
that loving you is like
being reminded of what it felt like
the first time
you accidentally let go
of a balloon as a child
it's drowning without the water
it's the feeling you get
when you start to dance
& the song ends
  Apr 2021 niann smith
ryn
Like the moon
who diligently makes way
for the coming suns.

(And at a time, most unfortunate.)

He saw fit,
to loosen his grip...

And watched his heart
fall and turn into a million
ruby shards and splinters.
  Apr 2021 niann smith
Seductive Poetry
I can’t seem to get it together
Everything seems to slip through my fingertips
I can’t seem to catch my breath
Everything seems to be suffocating me
I can’t seem to get back up
Everything seems to be pushing me down
I can’t seem to catch a break
Everything seems to be breaking me
I can’t seem to get any relief
Everything seems to be stressing me out

I end each day on a sad note
My life right now is madness
I look at the clock it’s 00:00
And all I want is some peace


© Seductive Poetry
  Apr 2021 niann smith
Mitch Prax
I am drowning
in this ocean we call life.
It's a bottomless abyss of
weight and worry.
I can't resurface,
it never ends and
I suffocate.
  Apr 2021 niann smith
lost cause
you are not mine,
but sometimes
i pretend that
you wish you were

i created this dream
that you secretly
wanted me

but i often forget
its just something
i've made up
iloveyou
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