Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
too often, i think too much
about theology
relationships
finances
the future
health
the torrent of anxieties
ferociously grows inside of me
under my heart
in-between my ribs
and im driven into recluse

too often, i think too much
and forget
the remedy
is right in front of me
i just have to open the blinds
and watch the sunset
that big burning star
scarring the clouds blood red
and mahogany orange
burns inside me

and the torrent subsides.
And we showered in prison sized cells,
white tiled and PVC clad,
the B&Q; recommends it!-
hells.

And we died in those showers
that were prison sized cells,
white tiled and PVC clad,
doors-are-broken-again-
hells.

And we were saved by the
eat again yellow doors,
peering through blind black windows
into the clear streets at dawn.

And they yelled with a siren mouth
***** blue profanity and
you left your mark with a ****** white tee,
wet with the water that
hurtled down from the
shower head, unclean and *****.
facebook.com/coffeeshoppoems

5 more likes until 100
 Jun 2013 Plain Jane Glory
verdnt
you didn’t want me

not when your fingers dug into

my hips or when they trailed 
their way up my thigh

and i don’t think 
i really wanted you, either

we wanted skin and we wanted flesh

touch without connection

we pressed our lips together

once or

twice but i think it was habit

more than anything

we were doing this

so we had to do this

touch me and i’ll touch 
you but really

i was touching him

and you were touching her
Cup your hands together
and catch each
and every one
of my fragmented words.
Hold them
and piece them together
into beautiful paragraphs
because I've become
so broken
and you deserve
to be whole.
So please don't fill my
empty soul
with pieces of you
and don't convince
me to allow you to stay.
Take this jagged goodbye
and remember me
as the hopeful person
I once was
not the futile soul
I've become.
© M.K.B.
All the televisions have eyes,
Theatrical espionage.
Please mind the gap,
And do not sit too close.
Electric revelry
Flows in three dimensions.
Quenching of one dimensional windows.
Optical murals of other men's dreams.
This is one of those love poems
That young lovers tend to write
When they find that special someone
They think about morning, noon, and night

When the dull world that they once knew
Shines a brighter shade
Like any other love poem that you've read
On any other given day

It talks about when the one you love
Turns around and smiles
How with the kiss of wind the clouds disappear
And the sun comes shining out

Filled with a sugary sweetness
That drips from off the page
Though you've heard this in every love poem before
It still has the need to say

There's an essence to your beauty
How life sparkles when you smile
The way it is I feel for you
Is what this poem is all about

And though it's all been said before
In many poems up to this day
Thought I'd go ahead and take this chance
To say it any way

There is a bit of difference
And the evidence does hold true
This poem your holding in your hands
Was written especially for you
Next page