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 May 2014 Melaina
Emily Dickinson
50

I haven’t told my garden yet—
Lest that should conquer me.
I haven’t quite the strength now
To break it to the Bee—

I will not name it in the street
For shops would stare at me—
That one so shy—so ignorant
Should have the face to die.

The hillsides must not know it—
Where I have rambled so—
Nor tell the loving forests
The day that I shall go—

Nor lisp it at the table—
Nor heedless by the way
Hint that within the Riddle
One will walk today—
 May 2014 Melaina
Jay
Writer's Roots
 May 2014 Melaina
Jay
I don't remember when the **** my poetry became about pleasing people or getting votes or views.
I don't remember when my writings were only created to be approved by a friend.
I don't know when things became about success or money.
I don't know why it turned into pleasing a lover.
But as soon as it did become about those things, I lost my spark, and suddenly writing was a chore.
I'm done with burning in my small spotlight with nothing flowing on paper,
I just want to be free.
It's time I get back to writing the way I used to.
For my emotion. For my passions. For myself.
Ranting to myself.
Don't mind me.
When the chaos broke out,
I just ran and shouted;
without knowing where to go,
much less who to call.

There weren't lights in the streets.
The houses catching fire
was what lit me up.

So, decided to sit down
and wait for my awful destiny,
he arose from the floor,
grabbed my hand
and took me away.

Sofia was saved too.
She was afraid.
We all were, but he wasn't…
He promised to save us
and he bravely did,
shedding his own blood.

We used to be just children,
but now that's not important.
They want to change us and hurt us,
and now… nothing is important.

The weren't exceptions.
If you were human,
you would have to rebel.

When the disorder was over,
we just wanted to come back home.
However, we had no more home
and we were no more children.
 May 2014 Melaina
Lyteweaver
Please God
Send me an adventure. 
A crazy wild ride.
Let's Make A Deal.
Give me a choice of 3 doors
before my formidable demise.
You see if I don't get some chill,
some life-force pill; I'll suffocate on boredom
and absence of thrill.
Send me a time machine to fly back in history.
Let me feel what it's like to be part of a movement
or solve a mystery.
Shoot me into space where I can meet the Third Kind.
Might not speak the same language, but we'd communicate just fine.
I'd feel right at home on some far away planet.
Now, please, send me some adventure ******!

But wait.
There's just one little clause.
I need this adventure no earlier than 6 a.m. and not after 9 at night.
Oh and I have to be home in time
to feed the cat, make dinner and tuck the kids in tight.
So schedule me in, deliver my ride.
I'm patiently waiting; swiftly dying inside.
No pressure or anything; I'm chillin'.
Eyes peering behind blinds like a death row villain.
Fingers crossed. Breath held.
Is that FedEx? Oh god willing...

Per terms and agreement:
Please do not send me adventure wrapped in Wet Wipes, Stow-and-Go Seating or sibling food fights.
Just launch me outta homemakin' and caretakin'
for one stinkin' day!
Let me a be a gypsy, a journalist or have a fan-tas-tic lay.
Let me move masses, stack paper, be the star of a play.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Nevermind. 
It's Groundhog Day.
Passport optional
 May 2014 Melaina
Alexis
Unsent
 May 2014 Melaina
Alexis
Maybe one day,
Sometime soon,
I'll be brave enough
To send it to you.
For now,
I'll leave it unsent.
 May 2014 Melaina
Morgan
Like
 May 2014 Melaina
Morgan
It's was new love.
Started as a crush.
As a Like.

Blossomed into a butterfly
deep within the stomach pit.

"I like you," he whispered sweetly.
"I like you back," she returned.

And on they went.

Until he found a new Like to like.
He snatched the beautiful, wanted feeling from her
as if it wasn't her's to keep.

It was her first real Heartbreak.
Torn up inside,
The hate began stirring.

And now when she sees him,
she has to act like it's all okay.

Like her Like had faded faster than his.
Like her heart was full and solid.

She'd never take him back.
She just wishes he'd never left.
 May 2014 Melaina
Dia
About You
 May 2014 Melaina
Dia
I wrote a poem about you,
But I can't let you read it
Because I'm under the impression that if you say something,
You have to mean it
And I don't know what I mean anymore
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