Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
All I have to do is dream -
You sang in quivering vibrato ,
By the sparse light of a lamp
That shone phosphorescent
Onto your anatomy
All wrapped up loosely
In a black buttoned-up sweater,
Knee high socks and
Uncovered thighs,
Tender and shaking -
And if there is only -This-
Here, and now,
It is more then enough for me,
The fortress for two,
The cornerstone and
The dancer.

-Jamie F. Nugent
We walked together, found
In town centre, on the mark,
We were a bullseye, joyous,
Shy, striding opened streets,
So proudly paved, just for us,
To trip and now, here faraway,
In white shops we sprung free,
Tried on silly scarves and hats,
Imagining rendezvous in London,
Paris on the Seine, the long boot
Of Italy, sleeping inside a railway
Station on our way for Provence,
Or Barcelona, even dare Istanbul,
It was too fun, so brilliant to dream,
In return those tickets got punched,
Now we travel solo on lost avenues,
Waking up is not as nice as it seems.
two women
matron and maiden
pregnant with divinity

carry sons
chosen to prepare a way
and establish a kingdom

carry sons
destined to baptize and to heal
and to die (one will rise)

but for today
matron and maiden
pregnant with divinity

delight in figs and tea
and weave soft blankets
and giggle with baby-time anticipation
this is my take on how it might have gone down for Mary and Elisabeth.  Mary being sent off to "help" her aged cousin with her pregnancy, because they did not know what else to do with her, and also to save her from possible stoning.  But I think that Elisabeth was the only one who really understood this young maiden.
Please don't make her feel -
what I made her feel.
...

-just being honest
 Jun 2016 PaperclipPoems
Nathan
I am a man
Who screams by night
And smiles by day.
I look at myself, I don't see me anymore
Just a shell from before, empty and haggard.
My eyes have lost their shine.
The path ahead forgotten
Trudging through mud, looking to the sky.
Now I know for certain, soon I will die.
Not from coincidence or neglect;
From these hands of mine.
 Jun 2016 PaperclipPoems
J
Tired
 Jun 2016 PaperclipPoems
J
Tired.
Exhaustion,
the kind of fatigue you don't counteract
with behind-the-counter medications
because it lives behind your eyes but
not quite inside your brain,
the kind that makes you feel insane
just for acknowledging it's there.
It's quiet in the day but wrattles constantly,
reminding you, you're the only one to hear it.
Tired.
The kind that misses sleeping in,
but 13 hours of sleep is never enough
to fill in gaps or bags under eyes,
so you just lie in bed and think about
how tired you've become,
and how you've forgotten
how it feels to be refreshed.
Tired.
The kind of tired that inhibits you from moving
your mind races and your body is glued to the bed,
it's 3am now and you've finally stopped pacing in your head.
Tired.
your eyes stop moving around 6am
when you crawl into bed,
you are so drained,
nothing could keep you up now
you block out cars horns,
you ignore thoughts that knock on your door,
and rustle in your blinds,
and drown your fatigued mind,
begging for a place inside your bed,
you are so tired.
you are on sheets,
you haven't washed in weeks,
stuck without a destination
for your mind.
stuck, the sun just rose,
so you are
**** out of luck.
.
Notes to the one who doesn't Know

The time has slowly passed
My heart stagnant in the drift
You've left my body empty
I've lost my spirit when you left
I cannot explain this all
I'm lost in the abyss of the fall
Yet I find myself running
Consistently from the love
That I've only purely felt
With You

Everything. You. Me.
It was our heaven
A home within the wild
The child cradled
In the carriage we made
My dear I love you forever
And my soul has been null
With out You
Look.
In her eyes, you can see a deep pool.
Something. Deep, bottomless, but not abysmal (terrible word).
Spacious, where you can be lost within;
Yet drawn in deeper.

Ah,
But look again at the surface of her eyes,
(Coming closer and closer),
Reflecting the look of awe within your own.
Feel the fear of your own trepidation,
(Is there even truly a word for that feeling?),
As you draw in together.
(Coming closer and closer)

A curl of brown slides down over her face.
A momentary distraction (momentarily reprieved); the world in the moment,
Moving even slower.

That lock of hair, beautifully demure;
Had shifted my focus, just for a moment.
I return my gaze to the window of her soul,
While I reach up to brush it back behind her ear.
My touch, causes her eyes to blink;
A flash of lashes that briefly feign the ignorance of what lies beneath them.

Moving even slower still,
(Coming closer and closer),
Her eyes are revealed with all the grave of an opening act; purely, art on an increasingly grander scale.
Slowly looking up at me.

My hands trembling slightly, insist
(Casually),
That I may move with all the magnitude of my heart.
(Casually)
So intense now, as I draw a breath;
She feels it. Intensely.

(Choose. Left or Right)
I lean in,
pulled as a force by an irresistible object.
(To the right)
My lips part with trembling bravery
And move in,
To a meeting of meaningful joy.

I feel the sharp intake of her breath
Rush past her teeth,
as her nose moves to brush against mine.
(So close now)
Her lip quivers as we meet,
And now
(Before/During/After)
I am lost within Her.
Not about anyone in particlular, I just wanted to try and capture the ideal of that feeling.
Maybe I don't have a One

This isn't meant to be depressing
although I agree it may come off that way
I just want to be realistic

Maybe I don't have a One

People die for no reason all the time
I don't mean to be somber
these are just facts
do think they had all fallen in love?
do you think their lives were fulfilled?

Maybe I don't have a One

We're force-fed fairytales
peddled parables of Princes and Princesses
love is just a product
no different than chocolate
or straight to DVD CDs of Dumb and Dumber
Not everybody has a bicycle

Maybe I don't have a One

Don't get me wrong
I'm as hopeless a romantic as the next guy
I'm sure people do find love
and a couple consists of two people
so they very well may make up the majority
but as obvious as it may sound to say
50 is not 100
some is not all
and everybody might not have a somebody

Maybe I don't have a One

This wasn't meant to be sad
I just feel like we're all fed a certain narrative
that may or may not be true
which is fine
I just don't think it's crazy
to admit that
perhaps
possibly

Maybe I don't have a One
Next page