Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jan 2017 Mason
Styles
Addicted
 Jan 2017 Mason
Styles
I know that you miss me
by the way you tease
I know that you want it baby
I got what you need
I know you miss us baby
what we got is real
I know how you like it
make you love how it feels
come here let me give it to you
you don't even have to say please
I know how you like it baby
I got what you need.
 Jan 2017 Mason
Lopz
Hey Mr. T
 Jan 2017 Mason
Lopz
So Mr.T
You run the country what's next, hope you realize that most if the country hates you just cause you're you.
Them you got a wall working to block my people from a better life, that's the only reason we come here not everybody has the money you have out life you had.
Now I know I'm not the only one that feels this way but, if you are going to be president you should respect anyone that wants to be in your so called
Great America.
 Jan 2017 Mason
Pauline Morris
It was a cart once made for shopping
Now lost and long forgoten
It was a cart once silver and shiny
Now old, disgusting and grimy

She found it there in an unused lot
It was exactly what she had sought
In it she placed her worldly belongings
Including her hopes, her dreams, and longings

She took it with her wherever she went
Hours organizing it where spent
Not one thing about that cart was inept
She knew every scrap of paper, and were it was kept
There was room for her clothes, she had very few
Far less than anyone knew
A spot for the table scraps she managed to find
Who knew you could live on less than a dime

But there in the middle you'll find two old tattered tins
Her most prized possessions where tucked safely within

One tin was for the past and things that are no more
With child like eyes, she'd peek in and explore
For both Joy and Sorrow are contained inside
Amongst the Polaroids of life, a lock of child's hair did reside

The other was for her hopes and dreams
They carried her on, when there seemed to be no means
Even when all the dreams eventually explode and collide
Hope will still be standing strong by her side

Her life as it is now, out here on the streets
Was unexpected, not planned...... the memory repeats

A bright sunny day
Soaking up the sun's rays
Both out by their pool
Him sitting at the bar on a stool
But little boys sure do like to giggle
They squirm, and they wiggle

Her out stretched fingers grazed his shirt as he fell
Her screams of anguish no one could quail
As she held his limp body pleading for him to open his eyes
Screaming at the heavens..... WHY.... WHY.... WHY

Now on this block you can find her every day
Pushing that shopping cart as she limps and she sways
Come bare witness to the sad aftermath
One split second, changed a life's path

©Pauline Russell
 Jan 2017 Mason
Rachel W
Fortress
 Jan 2017 Mason
Rachel W
My lonely worship
A beautiful new dawn
Freed from pretty lies

Protection divine
His kiss laid upon my brow
A sanctuary

The song from above
This poor pilgrim's heart is light
Submerged in the spirit

Fortified in you
The sons and the daughters rest
Singing out your name
 Jan 2017 Mason
wordvango
ravens and black birds all along the precipice
awaiting the dive the encore the serenade,
crows in a row along the wire,
above the vultures circle round
the sky full of death
the ground scoured until
the black cloud lifted
above  my head
the darkness went away in wings of
light then
when the sun rose all the sudden
and if I didn't
some one else would be writing
a tome about the black winged
maybe my good friend
Jim
or Susan might could
or might they may have just gone on
 Jan 2017 Mason
fire in her eyes
There is no question that I am
More than my mind.
Only a sliver of my being
Resides within my soul shell.
And yet,
There is no emptiness.
I am always graced with the presence
Of Self.
With Self I fill every vacant cavity
In my earthly body.
A joyful light
Fills me to the brim-
Every love I've ever known
Runs through me
Like glitter glue
In my veins.
This is all
Perfectly instrumented-
I am at home
In my own company.
Self and I,
We walk together,
And discuss
Our favorite shades of green.
 Nov 2016 Mason
onlylovepoetry
around the table we go,
each declaiming modestly,
the blessings we are duty bound
to acknowledge

my list swift

in possession of all my senses,
some say, even my faculties,
but hours later,
when the glaze of gourmandy fades,
struck, remiss,
my failure to extend a kiss

to my muse, who, deft orchestrates,
the combining of the five
into something greater,
a symphony of visionary words jive
that come to life,
more than I ere believed possible


that thru the poem,
I could give joy to others...

for this blessing simple,
*rejoice, rejoice, rejoice
 Nov 2016 Mason
Seán Mac Falls
( Young Rose )*
.
It is late this day the hushed sun falls, my dying flame,
The night appears without stars, only memories of stars,
The sparkles in your dark red hair, the moon in our eyes,
Across the lake my faraway heart shudders with the loon.

I promised you a paradise of days, you gave me the night,
That we would be together in sweet fields of lamb and rose,
But now there is only wandering, now there is one long road,
Aye, tis a cruel way that a man must rove to make his keeping.

When I set myself to sea to ride the unbounded waves of loss,
I sometimes take to wheel in early morn and the blaming gulls
Surround me with the great blue of the ocean and endless sky
And I weep at the mizzen alone on oak decks, wet in misty cries.

I weep even before the rains have come as they always gather,
Dark and cold in the maelstroms and whirlpools of oceans deep,
To know the seven seas of the globe and not be with my dove—
She with eyes, vast and blue as ocean, with hair of the setting sun.

It is too much to bare, the endless silence in the fury of my travels,
If only I was a merchant, a steward, a lord, even the lolling tinker,
Such a house I would build for us in the ***** of clear lake wood
And we would have such charming brood, enough to quiet the loon.
Róisín, Rosheen or Roisin ( Irish pronunciation: ro-SHEEN ) is an Irish female given name meaning little rose. The English equivalent is Rose, Rosaleen or Rosie.

Róisín Óga ( 'little young rose' ) the name is the Irish Gaelic version of Rose.  Anglicized at as Rosaleen.  The name has been associated with a 16th-17th century poem called Roisin Dubh (Dark Little Rose), the eponymous heroine of which is usually regarded as a personification of Ireland.
.
 Nov 2016 Mason
Deana Luna
here we are
together in one endless room surrounded with lights
candles burning hot
blue and yellow the
pickled platter you brought
a sour attitude and a warm
heart.
 Nov 2016 Mason
Keith Wilson
A  group  of  maples
stand  proudly  in  the  village.

A  vivid  deep  scarlet  in  color
truly  magnificent  trees.

Very  pleasing  to  the  eye.
You  have  to  catch  the  moment  though
Sadly  the  beauty  soon  fades.

As  seen  in  October.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2016.
Next page