Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
  Jun 2016 Michael Smith
Polar
It's not who you are or who you know,

What you wear or where you go.

It's not your friends or family,

Its words on a page,

In this community.

The words we use can settle scores

or open doors.

So hear a heartfelt plea from me,

Let's stop the wars and do poetry.
Michael Smith Jun 2016
Jelly Daydreams

Rain on sun, winter white
Melted wax on a child’s face
Papier Mache, worn mantels
Stuffed with boysenberries

Shrill sounds of loneliness
Heads turning on corners
Corners keep going in circles
Brains can’t believe eyes

Purple light, blinding day
Kaleidoscope silence too loud
The storm inside is waning
Beggars fill city streets

Shrieking alarm, **** alarm
Glass shards flying in the wake
Trembling legs of reason
Nowhere left to hide

Rain on moon, nighttime black
Burned flesh a new victims’ face
Suffocating, brightly colored feathers
It all tastes like orange marmalade

— The End —