Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Aug 2016 N
Simone
the walk
 Aug 2016 N
Simone
long shifts.
late nights.

walking home.
a weird feeling.
thoughts.
anxious.

looking up.
a sky full of stars.
reassuring.
*it´ll be okay.
The sky reassures me, maybe because the stars make me think of you.
 Aug 2016 N
a friend
planets
 Aug 2016 N
a friend
plastic stars on the ceiling of my bedroom,
without my glasses look like splotches of a galaxy
painted a million miles away.
.
take off your glasses and
marvel with me
at the plaster planetarium of my room.
 Aug 2016 N
cgembry
Nighttime spills over the horizon
staining the land with shadows
its blackness deep and unyielding
but soon arrives a tide of constellations
glistening with the brilliance
of stars unnumbered
they wash over the Earth
bathing all in soft starlight and
cleansing the darkness
 Jul 2016 N
Nishu Mathur
Dreams are made of chocolate huts
With burgundy windows, cherry **** doors
Sweet icing on cream layered roofs
Almond -walnut -caramel floors

Dreams are made of iris and jasmine 
Jacarandas lined in purple rows
Tree blossoms in clustered cobs
Petals that dance like a ballerina's toes

Dreams are made of fern green forests
Oakwood trees  that cast a spell 
A  gossamer web of magic and charm
The music of clinking coins in a wishing well

Dreams are made of cerulean skies
Contrails of clouds in ivory snow
Violet mystic misty mountains
A  tangerine orb riding a rainbow

Dreams are made of romance laced nights
A golden peach vanilla moon
Venus lighting, igniting,love's fire
The silhouette  of love in rain soaked June

Dreams are made of turquoise seas
Calm waters stroked by gentle waves
Or enticed by the charm of a midsummer night
Waters that heavenly Cynthia craves

Dreams are made of silk and satin
Dappled with reds, greens and blues
But the dreams that I love to dream the most
Are all the dreams made of you
Written about 2 years ago
 Jul 2016 N
Stephan
Vast
 Jul 2016 N
Stephan
.

Looking on
this expanse that encircles me,
closing in during open hours,
unlocking doors I can’t seem to walk through
Stairways of rotted, termite eaten steps
each with my name painted on them,
creaking underfoot,
losing to the weight of
long lines at self serve counters
wrapping around as if
nothing is free but here
for some reason it is

And I stand right in the middle
alone in this ocean of faces,
polo shirts and penny loafers
staring at cell phone screens,
calling someone,
talking with their hands,
hands free?
Paying it forward,
coffee for the next guy in line,
but not me

For I am just here, anywhere,
somewhere like this,
a thing plopped down,
fallen from the sky,
splattering on the earth,
consumed by the soil,
muddied footprints and all
trudging through the wilderness,
carving a path of existence
breaking branches and
scattering bread crumbs

Still I am me,
standing tall among the taller,
enjoying the shade,
sipping lemonade and eating apple dumplings,
pushing, not pulling forward,
dreaming, (of course)
regardless of tire tracks and scars
or pointed fingers,
Pounding the pavement,
laying a foundation,
driven beyond

Parking lot base,
asphalt themed destinations,
a checkerboard of last rites and dead batteries,
yellow lines on the horizon,
handicapped up front
Looking out over the valley,
watching the world go by,
admiring the beauty,
loving life,
rejoicing in the fact
that it is all so immensely
vast . . .

as am I
 Jul 2016 N
Amanda
Lotus
 Jul 2016 N
Amanda
I blossom like a lotus flower,
resilient and strong, I rise up and out
of the muddy waters that have been
holding me down far too long.
Next page