Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Tall as perception
Short as rejection
Student
Boyfriend
Son
Brother
Strong as a memory
Weak as your grip
Surprise
Warm
Friend
Teacher
Sore as his knuckles
Cozy as her bed
Loving
Smiler
Laugher
Care taker
Smart as potential
Dumb as expectations
Faker
Crier
Lier
Fighter
Hot as lust
Cold as isolation
its said you can only lose
what you call yours
you can only miss
what you hold onto
you can only remember
what you choose not to forget.
so in the hazy moonlight
of this dreary summer night
ill be letting you go, darling.
ill release my love away, into the sky
ill watch it dissipate in the thick air
floating away on a soft breeze.
and ill breath in deeply,
holding the scent of us in my lungs
and when i exhale, nothing will remain
but my empty, barren, wasteland.
and that too, i will surrender into the night.
leaving just a distant memory of memory
of what once was, but  is no more.
and soon this dream of a dream will pass as well.
and i will be here, now, breathing.
and i will not feel loss.
and i will not long after you.
and i will choose not to remember
the part of me that i let fly away with you.
Eve
if i float on in
with flowers brandished
twisted into curling waves
tumbling from my fountain,
and you mistake my mind
full of mystery and marvel
for a dainty, empty vessel
to be filled with your creeds,
                     may you choke on my knowledge.

if i bounce between
bookmarks of laughter
that lift my heavy pages
aligning my beginning and end,
and you mistake my comfort
for the ditzy daze of a doll
fashioned to be played with,
and put on a collectors shelf
to scoff at imperfections,
                           may you be blinded by my light.

if i am flowing round
fabric billowing to catch sweet
wind of movement, spinning
glee of gliding off the ground
to glimpse golden gates,
and you mistake my joy
for a pair of hips to clutch,
and sneak your jolly rodger
past into pillage and plunder
and poke a broken flagpole in,
                         may you drown in my crashing waves.

if i am still in silence, serenely
lost in my clarity, presence of being
holding my unruly tongue, sleeping,
and you mistake my peace
for a void, desperately empty
to be cluttered with your
ostentatious masquerade of manhood
or statue to your *******,
                         may the wonders resting behind my sturdy walls
                         rise up rumbling pillars of awareness
                         and demolish your preconcieved
                        patriarchal perceptions of who you want me to be.

broken mirror of emaciated imagery,
stupid, slow, sorrowful ****, simply here for silly sulks to stick their sweaty sliding cylinders down to search for silk to steal and sell and sew as seeds of slandering stigma to slinking sailors.

may it be shattered in two and remade, a new
unified whole of harmonious equality,
shaking the chains of dichotomous value,
break the monstrous institution.

slither singed and sullen back to your tree
little snake boy, you know nothing.
and you cannot fool me into eating your apple,
i already know my truth.
I didn't like that you were in my dream
I didn't care for the deeper meaning
Just for the proper morning
Stop this spinning world
from turning now
For what's it worth,
Earth is not a bumper car
Bumping into cheaper stars

But in dreamland
it's not that simple,
There's no plan
and the ample of people
can be quite bland
sitting in the temple
listening to the Papal's teaching
of the gospel
and like a bell ringing
I saw the ripple
of misunderstanding
spread through the crowd
All proud of their ways
All vowed never to sway

A lot of ****** up things happen in dreams.
Like that bus crash with the injured kids
eyelids half opened in pain
looking for help
but we kept on walking
despite all our preaching

I didn't like that you were there
to share that moment
I feared your judgement
too tired for an argument
I hated that a fragment of you
was buried in me
that laid dormant until now

My dream is my house
method within the madness
organised mess
although you gleam like gold
you're nothing but a mouse
hiding in my place
not scared to show your face
from time to time
But my house doesn't have a phone
to call pest control
so alone I patrol with a pistol
and hope I get lucky

When I wake up
I feel the ache of reality
come crashing down
a carefree burning
and suddenly
I'm mourning for last night

Just for a split-second
I wish I was dreaming again
because at least there
I know what I feel
Isn't real
Interrupt what you think!
comment/criticism welcomed
He is the tumultuous ocean,
The twisting, rolling sea
That feigns a certain gentleness
Until its rage breaks free

So vast and so unending
And limitless in worth
I took him once for granted
As I wandered through the surf.

Without the tumulus ocean
Without its rolling seas
Without the tide that tosses me
And never sets me free

The arid, fallow earth would crack
Beneath my burning feet
Reminding me of which I lost
And dried up with the heat

But salt leaves me to languish
No sweetness he can quench
Time will only tell from here
If love can fill this trench.
I will pretend
That you are beside me.
Arm touches yours
At each bump on the road.
I turn around;
Your face clandestine.
These baggage
Standing oppressively.

I will pretend
That you are beside me.
Because the last
Time I could not forget.
Tiny flutters
Rise and fall just the same.
I recognize
Your mark on everything.

I will pretend
That you are beside me.
Even if I'm
Already going home
A great distance
I allow you to be.
Forever gone,
A fact I'll never see.
written on a bus ride
how come my projection is ignored
your eyes, like high beams, flash over my existence
scattering my photons/my waves                                                            ­         
in exchange for your bright/white                                                            ­                                             clean/canvas                                                           ­                                             
you wander through these halls flitting from picture to picture to picture
fitting yourself to each
scene and visual style
discarding the ones irrelevant/inconsequential                                                  ­
like me, tossed aside
connections- but how deep
what soil does your friendship take root in?
in experiences/morals/ideologies/pasts                                                            ­  
or is it simply a necessity
a validation
that you exist
but why don’t i fit into your
equation/picture/life?                                                            ­                              
You want to laugh and I want to hear you
i don’t get it
i wish i did
you look at me and you look at you and you look at the boy standing there
and somehow you laugh at his smile
you talk with his persona
you walk with his saunter
and here i am passing the other way, looking/writing down                          
your validation
in these words i will capture your
reality/aura/matter/existence                                                        ­                      
so that you won’t be forgotten
like his smile/persona/saunter                                                          ­                  

and my projection/                                                                 ­                           
photons/                                                                 ­                           
waves/                                                                 ­                           
equation/                                                                 ­                           
picture/                                                                 ­                           
life?/                                                                 ­                           
reailty/                                                                 ­                           
aura/                                                                 ­                           
matter/                                                                 ­                           
existence/                                                                 ­                           

is anybody out there writing
for me?
We were never meant to be.
The poetry I wrote,
**You didn't read.
Next page