Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I'd rather listen to
~~~~~~
       blood flowing from my ******* ear drums  
     ~~~~~~     
        than five more minutes of you.
When your seething need for someone to IMMEDIATELY LEAVE is overpowered by your need to be creative.
 Feb 2016 Peter Watkins
WNG
When the mirror shatters,
What you reflect to society,
No longer matters,
Because the construction one,
Has built upon themselves,  
Is now on the floor,
Cracked into pieces of shattered fragments,
And now what you were then is now no more,
Now the only piece you have left,
Is the peace in your soul.
 Feb 2016 Peter Watkins
Lora Lee
I am bursting up and out
       into the flow of the stars
pulled into the night air
      as if by magnetic forces
I am colliding with comets
        yet not quite exploding
it's that ecstatic moment
      just before the tiny lights run
from toes to head in electric pleasure
          harmony with the universe
vibrates within
                pulses in aurora arcs
I am a space traveler
      my soul light glowing
unto the earth
   freshly released from the dark
in perfect syncopation
It is ecstasy without losing total control
It is beauty within sultry beauty
It is the letting go
          of temporary madness
the culmination of much awareness
                         a celebration of inner knowledge
It is so tangible I can taste it
and as dewdrops
of rainbow light prisms
dance upon my tongue
I am beaming
thankful
Oh so thankful
               for all
I now become
When we were young, all things were new
The rising sun, the morning dew.
Through you I saw the ocean first,
From stormy eyes I saw the surf.
I tasted summer in your lips
The flavor of the brackish mist
That lingered on with days and years
That veil of time was thin and sheer.
When we were young the summer months
Seemed everlasting, endless once.
Heated asphalt, mosquito'ed creeks
We dipped our toes to beat the heat.

When we were young, immortal then
I never thought there'd be an end...
I never thought I'd move away
I never dreamt you wouldn't stay...
I never thought when we were young
Your final song would go unsung,
I never thought there'd come a day
Your final words- you'd never say.

When we were young
When we
Were young
When
We
Were
Young
I never thought
You'd die.
We brush over beginnings,
But grasp them at the end
The ride itself is lost until
We slow ourselves again.
The essence of our stories
Are linear until
Loved ones take their final breath
And burning candles still.
Precious things and pointless
Birth lesions that won't mend
The thoughts through which we agonize
Take all our time to spend.
In silence, what is final
And all that's come to pass
Brings consciousness to what we are
When nothing good can last.
 Jan 2016 Peter Watkins
Helen
In storms
she is your anchor
In blindness
she is your sight
In sadness
she is your laughter
In darkness
she is your light
In weakness
she is your strength
In nightmares
she is your dream
In kindness
she is your weakness
At night time
she hears your screams
In low times
she is the mountain
In dry times
she is the stream
At all times
she is the rock
Never pretending to be
anything else
than what she appears
to be
I see your hair
Gleaming in the sun
Your clothes hadn't the slightest tear
Your hair was up in a messy bun

You took my hand and showed me around
You were very clever
To you I was forever bound
Bound by blood, forever

You are my sister
I would have it no other way
We used to say sisters before misters
Sisters we will always stay

The light catches in your eyes
I see your smile so bright
You have never told a lie
You are always full of light

I awake from the dream
Crying in the dark
My parents hear my scream
It all ended with a spark.
Just did this at midnight, please don't judge me based on this, judge me based on my other poems
For what it was tell me anon
Lest my heart turn and run
Away from Verona, Cursed land
That else was dealt a Wounded hand
In gloomy streets do shadows cry
For the Love of my life that did Die
Deep in her Earthen bed
From her breast drew red
By her own lovely manner
So down came the War banner
And so in quiet despair
With a quick, desperate Prayer
I lay down next to her in the tomb
And return to the Mother's womb
This is my fail at a poem about Romeo and Juliet. Yes I do realize that Romeo was already dead before Juliet stabbed herself, but this is just for recreational purposes so don't get your ******* in a twist.
Next page