Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Oct 2013 RIKKI
matt bates
 Oct 2013 RIKKI
matt bates
A slippery, charcoal, behemoth of a rock

Lying dormant, as if sleeping, 

Under the comfort of a seabed. 
Waves are crashing onto

The shoreline,

Rippling across the weightless,

Unblemished sand

As though it were hair

Gently being pushed across your face

The almost unnoticeable,
Yet constant breeze

Of the in and outs of your breath

Are the only constant left.

Small indents,

The size of dimples

Are the only remains visible

A last and final reminiscent memory

Of the grace that was once there.

An almost tranquil sendoff

As the water gets pulled back into the expanse

An expanse as deep and as beautiful

As the locks of your hair.
Unconscious thoughts dart through my mind

As quickly as the most nervous fish

Conjuring pictures and images

As vivid as Van Gogh’s

Streaked with lost and quickly forgotten words

Like a smoothed out seashell

Pulled under and out into the sea

To a place more wondrous than the eye will ever see 

The shells float away,

Making one last attempt to stay above the water’s surface

To stay conscious.

But the smell of the air,

Mixed with the comfort of the water

Coaxes it back

Like a siren’s song.

Under those waves,

Beautiful waves,

The same everlasting and flowing haven I have fallen into
The endless,
unexplored, untouched,

Flawless shelter of your locks.

The ones that gently touch against my sand-colored skin

Lulling me and inviting me to drift away,

Away, back into the expanse of a dreamland

One almost as endless

As the ocean of us.
 Sep 2013 RIKKI
M Clement
 Sep 2013 RIKKI
M Clement
There's an eye in my mouth
All-seeing speech

There's a noise in my throat
A voiceless breach

There's galaxies in my fingertips
And something outside the window

I used to kick the sickest spit
Now I just sit and stare, though.
 Sep 2013 RIKKI
A hummingbird mistook
my father for a flower, what
a pure existence he must have.
(c) Brooke Otto
September 15th
 Sep 2013 RIKKI
i still
feel you
in my

where they bend
and (some
((you never
to pull
 Sep 2013 RIKKI
Failing class because I'm distracted
Impacted by your body extracted
Mine reacted with you.

There was nothing I could do.
There was nothing I could do.
 Sep 2013 RIKKI
I hope it hurts again
when you drop your vice.
I know it certainly burned when
you let me go.
There's still a hole
in your heart.
 Sep 2013 RIKKI
the bank said it
was 73 degrees out
at 10 pm and I realized
that in the end we
were just a
girl and
a boy
who came upon
each other like
leaves, seasons,
snowflakes, rain,
bumped without
warning, but we
held our palms
out, swung, we
were flung apart
but that's okay.
that's okay
that's okay
it's okay.
(c) Brooke Otto
 Sep 2013 RIKKI
I see you blended
into my artwork, a
pencil smudge or
shape in the carpet
alight in yellow paint
dusted over in eraser
shavings, drawn out
in miscellaneous shapes
and misplaced lines, I
drew you out till the
last strings, the last
lead, the last words
(c) Brooke Otto
 Sep 2013 RIKKI
Bryan Dahl
You understand what suits you,
Choosing from tailors present or past,
Preferring not the uniform.
Whose robes to **** this trip?
Adding their layers to the shadow below.

Fashion a style, accordingly-
Another fearless, determined Oxford man
In a pink suit.

Style a fashion, apathetically-
A filthy, disheveled codger, trudging
From one unmanageable apartment to another,
Writing music in his mind, never hearing it,
Changing the world forever.

Owning only a pair of each-
Black shoes, tights, and tops,
And seventeen brightly colored scarves,
Wear your heart on your sleeve.
The most priceless accessory for spending
Retirement in Somalia with the children.

Being choosy in dress and shadows,
Remember seasons None too original,
Choose fear or love.
Suit yourself.
 Sep 2013 RIKKI
 Sep 2013 RIKKI
(c) Brooke Otto

y'all know what I'm feeling.
Next page