Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Pastel blue sky longing to
Hang over wheat;
There is only grass.
Green with envy at white clouds as
They pass.

                  (A different journey)

Poplars strive to touch
Shrunken, grey clouds that
Recoil at the very sight.
Ah, the plight of an
Innocent gesture.

               (Nowhere else to go)

Wind snears:
My train moves it so.
Grass is merely in the past
As I am slung
To and fro.


The seat next to me is empty. A passenger of invisibility kindly agrees for my bag to rest on their featherlight lap. Reservations elsewhere have been made.
Durham can wait.


In my lecture, there were four empty seats next to me. All other rows were full.


Last Monday, I got ****** at Stone Roses Bar. Stumbled along to ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor.’
Hands were all over me:
Creeping and

                     Why is it that when
I want company, it flees?

When I embrace

             It molests me.
Gale looked outward.
Stared dead at the tyrant approaching.
The wind did not chill her;
She chilled the wind.
Haunted it.

Whenever it blew you could be sure
She’d be there, standing against it:

Standing like a poplar-
No, taller-
Drinking wine in the embers,
A tree that fought the enemy.

Cries carried on a breeze,
Watching the world
As it falls to its knees
Because Gale won’t be

She’s a force to be reckoned with.
. conscience of gold
never stopped me from wrapping
my heart up in the darkest of things.
don't go, tread
softly on this newly broken soil. Kiss
your palms once each before you touch
anything that resides here. Leave
your twisted metal heart at the door, it won't pass
the screenings.  I want to know what summer tastes like
I want to know how the colors rest on your tastebuds and dissolve
into your bloodstream, warm and
welcoming. Brush
the dust off old phrases
turn them over in this new light to see
how they fit.
Shelf them, along with
iron fists and barbed wire. We've no need of such
weapons in this place.
Outside of the library,
On a wet, wet day,
You smiled and said
'I love you'
Before walking away
Towards the platform, where you depart,
And I know that I will always feel this way
About you.

You run your fingers through my hair and with them bring
The cool, fresh air that
I have longed for, all throughout the

The green flecks and
The blue hues of your eyes
Connect you to this current season:
Through your warmth and light,
You have given me
New life.

I have been told that said eyes are the window to the soul, so
When we kiss we must never keep our eyes closed;
An exchange of hearts for an exchange of souls that will continue, and
Never grow old.
i'm an open book with torn out pages,
misprints, flaws stained in ink,
looking for a patient editor.

but it's hard to hold you,
when the night is still young,
and i'm shaking, twisting, turning.

this heart of mine, forever inclined,
to find the one that sates this hunger,
the burning desire of wonder.

novel feelings of unending love,
lust that singes and burns the pages,
from lips, tongues, fingers, that sing a sweet praise.

yet all i find is one more tedious lie,
a heart half gone and yearning for another,
or simply a waste of time.

if only i could find you,
and take your hand,
surely our souls would bleed into the sand.

here i am,
waiting for rain.
I'm going to grow my hair long, so I
don't have to look you in the eye when I speak;
I'm going to take a rough surface to my skin until
it's too calloused to bleed
(or maybe I'll bleed anyway).

I'm going to tell you that I can't do this anymore, I'm going
to tell you that I need to quiet down, that this
is no place to build a home, but that the timing
was perfect and I can't quite bring myself
to say no.

I'm going to lay my fears down at your feet, but don't
crush them;
bring them into your home and make it ours,
soften the lighting and ask me, what happens after
the sparks settle?

And I'll lay my skin on yours -
softly, because everything after the flames must be gentle -
and I'll quiet your heartbeats
and show you.

— The End —