Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jan 2021 R L
allissa robbins
Eyes
 Jan 2021 R L
allissa robbins
Sometimes you say
I have oceans in my eyes.
Not once have I thought
That so.

My eyes are thin
And grey;
They are no "silver lining".

The green that lines them
Is not seaweed,
But the mold of a past
Mess.

You have told me my eyes
Are reflective.
But they simply harbor the
Colors of lonely skies
And mismatched loves.

You have described beauty
And freedom
Within my irises.


But I can't see them
Unless there's a layer
Of glass between.

I don't see the oceans.
 Jan 2021 R L
Nora
Oceans
 Jan 2021 R L
Nora
The waters are calling me and I can’t seem to move.
The waters are shouting my name but I can’t begin to voice a sound.
I long for the waters to wash over me.

To wake me up.

The waters are calling my name and I can’t seem to respond.

The waters are calling and I’m asleep.
The waters are shouting and I’m numb.

I dream of oceans welcoming me in.
I dream of oceans washing over me.


The waters will stop calling my name and I will be gone.
The waters will stop shouting.

I will stop dreaming.

I’m way too deep in the quick sands of the dessert to ever hear the ocean calling my name.
I will build monuments high enough for you to see.
I will build sand castles until you reach me.


The oceans are howling my name once again.
The oceans will never hear the cry of the wolf within.
 Jan 2021 R L
Poetria
Oceans & Poets
 Jan 2021 R L
Poetria
Falling for a poet
is like swimming in an ocean
of warm, blue water,
with currents that never cease
and waves with a constant flow.

Natural, the water is,
though some would call it
*****, unfiltered* & dangerous-
and dangerous it is, absolutely!
Swim in too deep and
you'd probably drown in its volume!

Oceans cannot be tamed,
Oceans cannot be blamed,
Oceans can be changed.

But if you do get out of the ocean alive,
if you do manage to conditionally survive,
you would be leaving the water
*****, poisoned & polluted.  

Hence, the poet shall write.
 Jan 2021 R L
basil
missing you is like
resisting the urge to shave my head
another stupid one about missing you, blue eyes. it only gets more and more redundant.
 Jan 2021 R L
ghost
moonlight pranced
upon immaculate sheets.

toasting hallelujahs
to unprecedented adieus.

miraculous orchestra
paraded between
enveloped keepsakes.

scents of yesterday
dissolved under my cavity.

ambitious pungency,
held me hostage,

mourning unreachable memoirs,

      ~within a pathetic presence
                    pleading desperately over

                                    crowded cemeteries.
 Jan 2021 R L
Crystal Freda
Why is poetry dying
when we still have the gift?
If we still have water
then we still have a ship.
We can sail to the places
these words take us.
We are still shaken
by the words that make us.
Why should we let poetry die
when there is so much to explore?
If only people read it
and discovered more.
 Jan 2021 R L
ghost
destiny
 Jan 2021 R L
ghost
Exciting morning
A true, destiny walking
out of entity.
a haiku
 Jan 2021 R L
ljr
i love you
 Jan 2021 R L
ljr
They’d waited too long to say

“I love you”.

3 words. 3 syllables.

Yet they held millions of emotions unspoken.

and now that they’d done it, they wouldn’t,
couldn’t, stop

they told each other all the time, at the end of the argument
and before the good news.

In the middle of the storm, even though it was hard to see, and after, when the raging winds had settled on a breeze

before the rising sun turned the sky pretty colors and after it flickered out and faded away into the dark

Underneath the stars that their love had been etched into

There was no love until death for them, because it would never stop

I love you beyond
Next page