Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Feb 2015 epictails
jeffrey robin
<<<                   >>>
<<       O       >>
0       0
+

++++++

Underneath

The pale moon sky

Little child

Death is everywhere


The long hard road

The cold  mean stare

The ugliness

/////

Oh say do you still see me

I never forget the truth

Of eternal loving kindness

And the moment

Of every afternoon

Of peace


Can you still see me

Under the pale moon sky

We don't have to die

We could make it if we try

We could find the strength

If we come together

Eye to Eye

If we come together

Facing Fate
 Feb 2015 epictails
a
untitled x
 Feb 2015 epictails
a
and if you're still breathing,
you're the lucky ones, 'cause
most of us are heaving through
corrupted lungs*

and convulsing, so empty, completely rid
of tears and whatever else might have lived
within the crumbling walls of my dying sanctuary
 Feb 2015 epictails
Derek Wings
I was never a poet
until i looked into your eyes
and saw the sun rise.
don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.

be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain

who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.

juggling mates
and
attitudes

their
confusion is
constant

and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.

beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."

and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God

for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.

don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone

for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.

I am a dog walking
backwards

I am a broken
banjo

I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio

I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.

put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.
the house next door makes me
sad.
both man and wife rise early and
go to work.
they arrive home in early evening.
they have a young boy and a girl.
by 9 p.m. all the lights in the house
are out.
the next morning both man and
wife rise early again and go to
work.
they return in early evening.
By 9 p.m. all the lights are
out.

the house next door makes me
sad.
the people are nice people, I
like them.

but I feel them drowning.
and I can't save them.

they are surviving.
they are not
homeless.

but the price is
terrible.

sometimes during the day
I will look at the house
and the house will look at
me
and the house will
weep, yes, it does, I
feel it.
I was told to act like a lady and speak sugar coated words.
Cover my face in make up and look pretty for the world.

I was told to act like a lady and wear skirts not jeans.
Impress people around and make them all happy.

I was told to act like a lady and be polite to everyone.
Suffocate my own dreams and live like others.

I was told to act like a lady and keep my voice down.
Just pass smiles and not to laugh out loud.

I was told to act like a lady and be a lovable doll.
Let them play with me while I can't put up any walls.

I won't act like a lady and there's nothing you can do.
I'll be whoever I want to be, it's my kingdom to rule.
Random thoughts scribbled down.
Next page