Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Where have you gone?
I know you were here.
I felt your breath on my face
Heard your voice in my ear

You spoke so softly
I couldn't understand
I tried to stop breathing
And felt the touch of your hand

I kept my eyes closed
Afraid if I moved
You'd leave me again
Alone in this room

I make no noise
As you whisper again
Straining my ears
To just comprehend

"Darling, I'm here now,
so, sleep, my love, sleep.
I've missed you so much, dear
but awake you can't keep."

No! Please don't leave me!
I beg as tears fall
I feel your lips on my cheek
... What I've missed most of all

"I love you." You promise.
Your final goodbye
The room now is silent
So I open my eyes

Nothing but darkness
You're no longer with me
So I drift off to sleep
Hoping you'll be in my dreams
 Oct 2013 Makana Queja
It's much easier to be okay
When the person that's always encouraged you to keep it together
Is there to keep you from falling apart
 Aug 2013 Makana Queja
Onkel Hva
It is
you see
not a question of why
but of how

How do you get her?
How do you do?
And for that matter,
how can I do her?
Come one
Come all
To this circus of thought
Through the curtains of opinion
You will see wonders of creation
These animals of personality
And tricks of illusions
Dark secrets held close
Hates long buried
Brought out from the attic
For all to see
Cleaned up and polished
Expressions of beauty
Belief and disbelief
And ugliness
And confusion and
Stress and irritation
And happiness and bliss
And everything that makes a girl
 Jun 2013 Makana Queja
Emma Blaha
Take me back to a time when life slowed to the rhythm of a Beatles song,
When an orange glow reflected the intoxicated passion rushing through our veins,
Where flesh met flesh in all its innocence and simple words became ****** philosophy.
Four people searched for quiet in the chaos, for meaning in the secrets of eternity.

Truthful fingers traced purple arms and green hands graced ivory skin,
As faces became lost in the designs of a creative cannibal.
Laughing voices rang in our ears, the biblical words of our wandering spirits.
The room around us, having a life of its own, spins faster and faster, knowing its destiny to fall.

Ancient histories slipped off our lips and the aches of forgotten dreams came to light,
Came to remind us that we were not who we thought we were without the colors in the night,
That our naked selves in the sunlight were only shells of beings meant for the extraordinary,
But, fearing rejection, hiding behind the impenetrable mask of mediocrity.

Streams of shameful reality fall from eyes burning with regret,
Leaving tracks of yesterday on perfectly blackened faces.
No words of comfort offered, but penetrating faith in the eyes of a stranger was all it took
To make walking next to the stars seem like coming home.

Devoured by the strong hands of false saviors passed reconciling abandonment
When lost soul meets lost soul, closer than warm lips that grew wings.
Senses heighten as entangled bodies bathe within the carnal oceans of unconscious desire,
Melting beneath the bitter chill of our own painted masterpiece.
Where hands lie to mind as inhibitions lose their voice,
And flesh makes its imprint in an acrylic dream world.

A world whose promises are not meant to endure but for the moment
Stoic figures replace dancing shadows as pale morning creeps up its leg
The breeze of summer parts its way through twisted fingers as birds’ sweet songs pierce christened ears
No traveler speaks of the dirt on our feet, the map left behind but lines on our hands
But eyes filled with knowledge learned through eyes staring back, whisper only the colors of the unthinkable things we found in shades of blue.
They tell me I can do anything.

          Looking down the throat of a challenge.
          Hanging on to the coat tails of life by the fringe,
          above a fire that is trying to singe...
                          ...Who I am
                             My Identity
                             Targeted by
                             a self created entity.
          To bring me down...

                          ...Below my potential
                             to see what is essential
                             through consequential actions.

   no matter my wingspan... I CANNOT FLY!
         And those childhood encouragements are a lie.

                   But through accomplishing what I am capable
                          I find that my boundaries are escapable.
         I'm not shooting for the stars,
         or looting and ending up behind bars,

but I am me, myself,
doing what I can so I'm not rotting on a shelf.
Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again
Follow me on Twitter @athomashawkins
Next page