Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
The big man upstairs
Once and for all
Disabused me of the notion
That he was in fact
God himself

And just my landlord
Living on the top floor
Yelling at me
Through the wall
That my rent is overdue
BLT's new challenge- to write a poem using the Merriam- Webster word of the day, disabuse.
 May 2020 Marsha Singh
L B
Toad Song
 May 2020 Marsha Singh
L B
Some Northeastern PA red wine
on my darkened deck
a dog barks
a toad sings
to find his mate
I am something of a toad too
and drunk enough
I will sing with him
when you've lost everything

the song of toad will do
 May 2020 Marsha Singh
Nomen
What tears and laughter might be brought
Were that which one suspects as truth
Should be laid bare for all to see
The aftermath of all one's wrought
On display, so vulgarly
Intentions once kept secretly
Hidden from one's own mind's eye
Now revealed through revelry
Made clear in Bacchian apery!
Away to the wind's
stream and whim
traverse, breath light,
upon wings unseen
to wander worlds
and times gone by
gay as silvery moonbeams
and summer sun's rays
Her
The dark dance calls softly,
like Night Shade or Oleander.
Just a little taste...
Just one more slow waltz...
I can smell her
wet orchid while I sleep.
She moves languidly through
my dreams, possesses me at dawn
with lambent steps.
The love is violent, like a bullfight.
It's sweet and treacherous, ferocious.
Fatal for one of us;
and she's been gored.
The darkness calls, there is an attraction to chaos and failed love.
I was in a state of happiness
While you were in another state
Crossing borderline personalities
As you shattered my reality
Our life in a state of decay
When you stated
You wanted to head
A different way
I added this note to the poem following a question I received.  Why "Convergence" instead of "Divergence".  I thought about that for a long time and decided that the word convergence sets up the entire piece by indicating that the two in the story came together.  It's the gathering of lives that begins the process of love and happiness or sadness and destruction.  That was a good question though and I love feedback.  I always want to get better at expressing what I'm feeling in hopes that someone will take solace in one of my poems and know they aren't alone in their bad situation.  :)
simple song
of sleep
playing
harps
in hotel
lobbies

see me off
this cliff
of
consciousness

lay me
back
and remove
my coat
of heavy
winter wool

let me
drift
away
on clouds
of dreams
where
nightmares
fear
to lurk
 May 2020 Marsha Singh
Nothing
r
   a
       i  
           n                                 b                                        
                                                    e
          ­        d                                    a
                  ­    r                                    
                                                                ­                  t
                           o                                   i
                                p                              ­   n
                                     s                                   g
          
                
                     d                      
                         r
                             o
                                 p
                                     s



                                                            ­                   o
                                                               ­       
                                                         ­        n

              t
      h
e

                                 w

      i
                                               n
          
                d
            o
        w

n    
   ­      e      
                   w

                                                         b               c
                                                            o  ­                 r
                                                               ­ r                         y
                                                          n    ­                    s
                                           ­                                          t
                                                               ­               a
                                                ­                        l
                                       ­                        s
          o
        f
                        t
               ­             h
                                e
                ­                                                     n
                                                             i
                                                   g
                                        h
                     ­          t
 May 2020 Marsha Singh
L B
On Days Like Today

On days
When the thrush curls his song
among the buds unfurling
Lilacs float their fragrance
Past the trees, among the bees, between the roofs
Only distance makes it bearable
to be

...so called
Spring
in the chimes of breeze
Bent by the force of life
in disbelief

of its always
leaving

behind

the apogee
Now, past--

The fatal
wound of spring
Next page