Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Dec 2012 Samuel
Madeline
i can't leave my bed -
not with your imprint there.
 Dec 2012 Samuel
Sunny Snow
You
 Dec 2012 Samuel
Sunny Snow
You
I can't sleep alone because of you.    
Cause having you by my side,
Is something I value most right now.
You and I have only been,
For roughly one month...
Still I trust you with,
My heart, my mind, my soul...
My true self.
God, you're making me fall in love.
You're holding my heart in your hands,
I'm letting you inside,
For you I promise not to hide.
But I'm also crossing my fingers 
Hoping I'm not dreaming.
See your pure touch 
Leaves me screaming 
Wanting nothing but more,
Of you...
Just having you,
Even for just a moment,
Is enough...
Cause when I'm with you
I am happiest.
Unravel the night as it nods off
to become a wall of darkness
until the sun looks into your eyes
once again
and you feel the pain of truth.  
Then tell me what is real
among the promises we have made
and why the blood running through our veins
speaks of us,
as our hearts are seduced.

How can we continue to live on the edge
where each breath we take
challenges our bodies to become
victoriously in control?  
When our hearts' wish to speak
of the need to see each other's face
and how love's flame  burns
within our eyes then moves
inward to the depth
of our souls.
Copyright @2012 - Neva Flores-Changefulstorm
 Dec 2012 Samuel
Lucky Queue
I think I figured out why I don't like pencils
They have advantages, I admit
I draw a hundred times better with them
And write fifty times neater than with
My usual plethora of pens
The colors and textures of the ink
Only a small part of my reason
I think I don't like pencils because they are
Impermanent
And smudge too easily
Ink only smudges when wet, and soft
Then it bleeds color all over the white expanse
It is set on
Inks and graphite, they don't mix in my head
The graphite is always too grey for me
Too dull when I use it
The inks give me the paint of gods
To shower in bold all that I deign to
And then pencils wear down,
Far too quickly for my hand
I need to scribble fast and hard
The pen stands much more solidly
And for me the pencil is too subtle and gentle
Not nearly enough vivacity
 Dec 2012 Samuel
K Mae
Do not say that I'll depart tomorrow
because even today I still arrive.

Look deeply: I arrive in every second
to be a bud on a spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
in order to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and
death of all that are alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river,
and I am the bird which, when spring comes, arrives in time
to eat the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily in the clear pond,
and I am also the grass-snake who, approaching in silence,
feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks,
and I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to
Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean after being ***** by a sea
pirate,
and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and
loving.

I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my
hands,
and I am the man who has to pay his "debt of blood" to, my
people,
dying slowly in a forced labor camp.

My joy is like spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom in all
walks of life.
My pain is like a river of tears, so full it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughs at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion.

Thich Nhat Hanh
This poem I remember often in my attempt to make sense of this world.
 Dec 2012 Samuel
Aaron McDaniel
Show me a rock, I'll show you a rose
Show me a model, I'll show you a small town girl
She has a beautiful mind
Seeing the face value of the color in your eyes
I want to know you deeper than you know yourself
Let my body be your canvas
Carve your secrets into me with an ink-less fountain pen, filled with your fiery soul
For I am the mighty oak
My bark will scar over
Your secrets safe for the keeping
I want you to always be there for you, as you have been for me
 Dec 2012 Samuel
L Curley
I wish we lived in the city,
So your voice could answer, ‘I’ll be there soon,’
Struggling with the other sleeve
Coming home to me

You can end my painful introspection,  no prescriptions –
You give me a look, that lets me know  
How it’s okay
To laugh
At it all

If we weren't miles apart, I wouldn't be putting up walls,
I wouldn't find myself running in and out
Of stronger arms and weaker hearts,
Clinging on, trying to feel like I belong.
**The same city.**
 Dec 2012 Samuel
Amanda Cooper
Blur
 Dec 2012 Samuel
Amanda Cooper
Time goes by so quickly
You blink,
The moment’s gone
Constantly moving on a high speed carousel
Around and Around
Eventually it all becomes a blur
Streaks of color, nothing more
Next page