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I never got to love the girl
she spreads wide her rainbow net
where the sky plunges on crystal river
tides swell to hide her shame
ebb to fill her bag of catch

I never got to love the girl
her hairs in the wind
my dreams spawn
a flower rising from the riverbed
she grants a love in my head
spreads wide her rainbow net
thru the long night of blue moonshine
her frock fills up with sparkling life

I never got to love the girl
could no way be the right match.
Fishing girl, the River, Feb 10, 2017, 7 pm.
The press of the snow
Bent and broke the bamboo stalks
With hardly a sound
 Mar 2017 Martin Bailes
maxime
do you dissociate too?

do you find yourself floating in space?
not on a gentle cloud or on the wings of a soaring eagle,
but on my own, supported by just air as i lose my head.

do you find yourself underwater?
not drowning but not breathing either.
the water rushes in my ears and the voices beside me are muffled
so i am left on my own with only my thoughts to accompany me.

do you find yourself gliding above ground?
i work through motions and play like a puppet on strings.
my feet never touch the ground while my head lolls on my shoulders.

my ears are plugged, my hands are clasped to still them.
the noise of the whole world is attacking me but i cannot decipher a word.
do you dissociate too?
please don't tell me i'm the only one.
She’s more fun when she is drunk
At least…until she’s not
Because she’s puking in the toilet
And regretting her last shot

She’s more confident when she’s drunk
Gorgeous and ready to score
Until she looks in a mirror
And feels even uglier than before

She likes herself more when she is drunk
Until that feeling goes away
When she is so far beyond gone
That her self-hatred comes out to play

She’s happier when she’s drunk
All her issues leave her brain
But they all come crashing back at once
And cause her so much pain

She likes the world more when drunk
It’s filled with so much good
Until one little thing sets her off
And she hates it all more than she should

She likes life more when she’s drunk
Her mind for once feels still
Terrified of losing that feeling
She soon wants to end things with a pill

But she can stop any time she wants
Or so she’d have you believe
Because alcohol makes her seem so happy
That is, until all her friends leave
Edit: (3/10/17) Oh my goodness! I haven't logged on in a couple of days and boy did I miss a lot!
I am doing my best to respond to all your messages and comments now! Sorry for the wait!
Thank you all so much for such an overwhelming amount of love and support <3 You guys are amazing
For those of you who struggle with addiction of any kind, hang in there, and I hope you all find the help and support you need <3
Best wishes to you all. And thank you again <3

Edit: (3/11/17)
Alrighty, so I just got a very long message that without going too into details accused me of poking fun at alcoholism with this poem. I would just like to be very clear that this poem was in no way inteaded to make fun of the illness that is alcoholism, and if it came off that way to anyone else, I am truely truely sorry. Words can not express that enough for I very much wished the opposite intent. Alcoholism (and addiction in general) is a very serious illness that I take very seriously. I sinceraly hope that anyone who is struggling with it gets the help they need and those of you who are in recovery, I am proud of you. Stay strong and continue to work towards it <3
Once again, my sincere apologies again to anyone who was offended.
Love to you all <3 - Willow-Anne
I watched as the sun broke over the horizon.
It occurred to me that nothing
In its most natural essence
Could ever be more beautiful.
Nothing could be more constant
Than the sun rising and setting
East to west
Every dusk and dawn.

I wondered
Why couldn't I be as beautiful
As that sky on which my eyes were fixed?
After all
They do say
We're made up of those same particles;
We may as well be one with the stars.

So, if in fact, that statement is true
How could I be so cold and dark?
Why does the darkness inside me
Never dissipate with a rising sun.
Why don't the kaleidoscopic colors
Infiltrate my darkness.

With the rising sun
And the pinks and purples spreading across the early morning sky
I wonder why I will never be anything other than
Dark.
Biggest, blackest vultures
perched above the headstones
Unbending sin collectors
sipping through the nectar

Ripping through the silver
Leave but ashes, purple
Bruises hot and breathing
unfeathered throats, excited

Talons drop like fountains
beaming bright and red as blood
Penny wishes sinking
under oath and God above

The meal is hot and ready
Can only vultures stomach

the melted shouts of children

the deadened eyes of mothers

the headless walking fathers

Biggest, blackest vultures
elegant as navy
Irony collectors
clean of human peeling

Of napkin trees, a shading
Their beaks are white and shining
Underneath the highest flag
of their tender country
Happy inauguration day.
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