Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Your eyes smoulder with an imagination that is even bolder than I could have dreamed and colder than this toxic air we've been forced to breathe.

You write poetry across your face to form a Gas mask of rythym, blocking out the hate yet sealing in ideas that might frustrate you.

You hear the birds in the trees and you read the articles in every magazine, you take in information like the bees to the Queen.

Your thoughts radiate an aura surrounding your entire body, you bleed history and pop culture facts, you need the written word like an addict needs their cigarette packs.

You're empathetic to your core, you feel what everyone else does so you hide yourself in your mind until you can categorize the emotions from the lies.

I know you can feel the love in your heart even through all the cracks, like a weathered and torn apart roadmap but you're taped together perfectly and even with a few wrong turns you always find your way back to me.
 Mar 2017 Jocie
wordvango
the commercial the billboard
friends snarky comments
National EnQuirer wonders how you are
there in whipped cream strawberry land
in which yellow Strumpets and ten pences bellow
the lies become real truth truth wilts  
into letters written
on every website you attend
LIberty has her arms crossed stern look under her crown
Attorneys at her call
to defend
thousands of propaganda things  
and throw women  with children to the dogs
of El Taco whilst
tax rewards flow
for  
richer and poorer we wed
this orange *****
now unfortunately
sadly sickly
we gotta sleep
with him
 Mar 2017 Jocie
hazem al jaber
My poem you are...







The most pretty of my poems,you are...

lady never saw like before...



soft and so sensitive...

great with a heart more pure than a purity...

white angel who comes from a sky...

never went away from my thoughts and heart...

always stay here with me...

behind this screen...

your voice is more sweeten than a bird's song...

your eyes's gaze are a dictionary to a joyful and a happiness...

your lips are more delicious than a flower's nectar...



The most pretty of my poems,you are...

lady never saw like before...



because of you...

wrote you in all my pretty beauty poems...

poems which i adore...

created you as a verses into my thoughts..



however i try to runaway from you...

i face your vision wherever i go...

and got as a prisoner...

captured by your prettiness...

captured by the most beauty jailer...

yes i am ...

the lover of you i am ...

the prisoner of your eyes i am ...

the pretty lovely jailer of me you are..

there is no runaway from each others..

we destined to be one to the other...



The most pretty of my poems,you are...

lady never saw like before...



for you...

and only you...

i am writing those verses...

sending you through my lines all my love...

the love ,that we shared...

shared there,where our hearts met...



The most pretty of my poems,you are...

lady never saw like before...



why to you only i write...

why to you only i create a poem's love..

why only you...

while there are lot of ladies in this world...

because the only one who gave an honest feelings...

the only one who gave an honest love...

yes you are...

honest lover you are...

so,...

for that i loved you and still do...



The most pretty of my poems,you are...

lady never saw like before...

my lady, whom i create a poems for...


my lady..
my world..
my poem you are..
and for you i'm writing you all my poems..

good morning sweetheart..

yours,..
hazem al Jaber ...
 Oct 2016 Jocie
Tiffany Moton
on October mornings
when the world outside my window
is lost in a pale fog
& faint white light slips between
the spaces in my blinds but spares
me, cloaked in shade & free
to sleep a little longer (if i could)

when the cozy scent of coffee
drifts upstairs, through the chilly air
& kisses me awake
how to savor a stillness so delicate?
threatened by little more
than the **** creaky floor

on October mornings
born mild & undisturbed
i tiptoe through the quiet
vacant rooms that smell of
spice & stale smoke
all is as i left it.
(draped in loneliness)

when i've accidentally made
one too many pancakes
& the wind's whistle haunts me like
a distant friendly ghost
it seems to always be
on these October mornings
that i wish you were here

the most
 Oct 2016 Jocie
Lunar
an indigo soul
 Oct 2016 Jocie
Lunar
rich with red passion
deep shades of blue
a girl in love with
the way people speak
and who pouches
rainbows in her room
a little flame
lit up for her love
for this boy
who's miles away
one day
she'll see him:
without her wearing colors
with no barriers of speech
a simple look
a simple hello
he'll be in her reach
for indigo

i wrote this for other anons to know that indigo is a dainty girl, who does not deserve to be noticed/judged because of her "white/asian/looks" but rather of who she is-- the way she loves makeup, languages, junhui, and other things that i may not know. but i hope you know you're beautiful inside, and i'm sure junhui does too, so should others know too.
Your hand clenched the back of my head.  
Clothes scattered around the room.
My hands slide down your body like they have a thousand times before.
It still feels so familiar.
You whisper.
" I missed you"
I pull your body into mine even more,
We haven't been intimate like this in a while.
Knives in my back, not of betrayal, of
Love.  
Your body is an earthquake underneath me.
But, you do not bring pain.
Life breathes out of you, fills the air around you.
Fills me.
Our bodies wrapped together, I don't know if there's a more beautiful scene than that.
All these mixed emotions cascading down my face.
Her fears turned into my tears.
Like a rose bud, bitter and sweet,
And such a painful thing to meet.
She was my drug, but I eventually overdosed.
Though I never gave her the thought of a proposal.
She used to stand to me to tall.
But she led me to a painful, long fall.
She was my power
But as all things do, it got too sour.
She was waiting for something to devour us.
There was a fault in our stars.
She made me feel like I was isolated, living on mars.
This wedding band meant nothing.
When it was supposed to mean something.
I’m surrounded in the thoughts of what we used to be.
You meant everything to me.
my work of yesterday
 Sep 2016 Jocie
L
Untitled
 Sep 2016 Jocie
L
there is only one kind of love that I know
it hangs over my head silent and still
weaving around tufts of hair and
under my fingernails
there is only one kind of love that I know
it can be violent and cruel
always leaving a sweet taste in my mouth
and blackens my teeth
there is only one kind of love that I know
it pools in tears of anger instead of sadness
it softens rough edges making it
a bit harder to see
there is only one kind of love that I know
it will only be for the self and dwells within
for which it will never appear on
the surface on my skin in
red splotched lines
there is only one kind of love that I know
it has engraved words unspoken into flesh
burning into languages that never existed
the kind of love that I know is beautiful
but only in a camera lens and not in the
reflection of murky water
there is no trust between myself and these walls
it is distorted
running thin
how I wish this love would only last.
March 4th, 2016
Next page