Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Juices flow for you
Creative and otherwise
Most delicious muse
 Jun 2014 John Marcus
CommonStory
A simple cafe
The woman with the latte
I see her
Those peach pink lips
Your jeans fadded blue
Blonde curly hair
Skin so fair
Oh the things I would do

Across the room
Her Carmel colored skin
Brown long hair
Breast perked so
Coke bottled body

And you
Oval shaped eyes
Sun kissed freckles
so fun sized

Burgundy bleached hair
Suckulant grape lips
Thick curved waist
Coffee hazeled eyes

Eyes....
She pierced my sight
I glanced back
She knows I'm looking
My deviant thoughts
Tension rises
Three seconds four and five
I break contact I head to the door
Stumble
******
She's at the door
Our bodys touch

"Hey do you dance"
I so dance
Respond
"Yeah I do"
" well you should meet my boyfriend
He does to"
******

Friend zoned
 May 2014 John Marcus
David Bojay
“Dear Lord, I know I am the angel you most regret.
Forgive me for my misunderstood intentions.
Forgive me for the drugs I take in just to be right beneath your feet.
Forgive me for the sins I commit without regretting them.
Forgive me if I’m not a strong enough soldier to defend your word when unbelievers bash on your greatness.
Forgive me.”


**stands up and wipes the dirt off his prickly knees
random
YOU
You are the reason
I know
why dreams come true
You are the reason
I know
that I was meant for you.
 May 2014 John Marcus
Lana
Golden lightning bolts
         jolt the muse to action
Dark skies lit for one...
The Cuckoo called.
His cry plaintive,
His voice etched with pain.
          I searched for Him.
          I parted The Veil, The Wall
          But like the Broken Window, He is not seen.
Our paths merge.
A pattern of Knots and Crosses.
And to His reflection, I call
          Fly with me, You of The Sky.
          Fly with Me, for a Better Tomorrow.
          And together then, We can rejoice,
           *In the Insanity of our Lives.
The Cuckoo, for the most part, is a loner. He hides behind different faces, Never building the nest, Always in Flight. For some reason, I can always identify with these wings.

— The End —