Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Luke Jul 2015
entre un soplo
y poesía que llene
el cielo como estrellas
esta luna atascada

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

between breath
and poetry that fills
the sky as stars
this moon, stuck.
Luke Mar 2016
first blossoms
of the cherry
winter's dream
awakened
Luke Nov 2014
breathless lingers
untwines
this tangle
Luke Nov 2017
dandelions pop
like flies
on the dead
scream for the sun
still clutched
in winter's grasp
Luke Mar 2016
listening
was
never part
of the
job
Luke Nov 2017
ever the blue sky
surrenders
Luke Sep 2016
my skin betrays me
what is not broken
cannot heal
and it has held me together
too well
Luke Sep 2015
each iterative
a lesson
to fail
gracefully
Luke Jun 2015
l i n g e r i n g
from the lips
a kiss

is
our
cliff
Luke Nov 2014
lips fold
embraces / slip
tangled
skin / bramble
limbs
Luke Dec 2014
misconstrued space
linear object-naivety
exudes this place
high-rise freeway three-dimensional waste
culled from a series of poems about LA
Luke Dec 2013
she catches sunshine
barefisted over gravel
joy bleeds from her seams
Luke Jun 2016
these foothills
rolling in pine and
grassland meadows,
where silvery lupine
follow the melting snow,
hint of the mountains to come
in spiny crags that
catch a cumulus pocked sky
cottonwood tufts rain
this day after solstice
Luke Nov 2017
the wind scrapes
these walls
taunts my bones
to dance bare
betwixt shadows
a waning moon
shares this
delight
Luke Jan 2018
wrap your words
around my head love
Luke Jul 2016
your words
the wind
I am listening
Luke Sep 2015
out not so early
running my gait
solitude in every
graveled step
Luke Jan 2018
it was those *******
stars
that made us break our
womb
Luke Jan 2018
emptiness
fills
Luke Jan 2018
fingers trace
along after
Luke Feb 2018
self weaning poetry
Luke Jul 2018
>>> love[:pillory]
Luke Jan 2015
I'm a hollow tree this night.
Defiant to the moon.
Bare.

Where is Spring in me?
Where the heart of these woods?
Luke Jan 2018
wooden coffee
6 oz styrofoam cup
splintered morning
Luke Jul 2019
what can I give
but love?
tears and anguish
have no currency
in the end
prayers cross to another realm beyond my scope
where ash and dust
wait
what can I give,
my friend?
what can I give?

— The End —