Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Logan Robertson Apr 2017
He stopped at her rose garden to explore
Beckoning rose petals awed of colorful lore
With pillow eyes so soft
He's invited into her loft
She raced fast as he kept banging at her door

LR-4/26/17
Limerick
hello,
first thing,
I wanted to say I am sorry I couldn't
read between the lines
to save both of us
from my cowardly, drawn out,
self care of my so called
ambitious future
that taunted us so
and made you pick up
your love,
and walk away
and me, like the coward I was,
just sitting there
listening to your resounding footsteps
then turning back to
work on my
pathetic, lonely script of life

hello,
I'm sorry
I didn't smile at you
the last time that day
when it rained
and the sky
was the color of a
gray heartache
spilling out silver, translucent
tears for both of us
to soak up,
and the concrete was slick with
shattered memories
of warm hugs
and shared mugs of coffee
and the air was
heavy with unspoken words
and your withdrawn sighs

hello,
How have you been?
I know I don't have
the right to say this
but my god, you still look
like life when it's in a
great mood,
still sound like a voice
singing in the shower
I remember waking up to
with a smile
you still feel like
that moment when you wrestled
the long settled rose colored glasses
off my face
and made me see everything,
made me see you,
yeah, you could say
I took your moments for granted,
every laugh,
every smile,
every honest, caring word
I haven't worn the glasses
since then

hello,
I know it's not fair
for me to call you
after all this time, but I am
falling apart
and the only thing
I can recall in color
is the memory of you
sitting with me on the bleachers
watching the sunrise
warm up the cold, windy day
and paint golden our
intertwined hands

hello,
my name is sorrow and regret
and I like coffee
and everything else that reminds me of you
I've lost track of how old
the days are, but I know
there's an infinite number
of seconds and sky
between you and me
but, anyways after all this time
it's quite ironic to say,
but, I still have a dream
except this time, it's changed
it's now a dream where I
wake up to a world
where you are in my life (arms)
again

hello,
I swear I wouldn't take
anything (you) for granted again.
I'd answer every time,
any day,
any second,
any moment
you call.....
just maybe one day
you'll answer mine.
just maybe one day,
I won't have to listen
to a dial
and pretend that I can hear
you
say all the same things
back to me.
01/22/19
If you believe in a literal or
metaphorical 2nd coming then...

Is it an event
Or a process?

What signifies
It has begun?

What marks
It's end?

Will there
Be a 3rd?

Who was
The 1st?
ryn  Jan 2015
Leaf
ryn Jan 2015
•    
i've
   witness-
   ed the others
   fall over several
sets•leaving you alone
shivering on a spindly twig
•the winds of autumn had whis-
pered their threats...•to sweep you
off your perch into the world so big
•the season had almost gone to make
way for another•answering the sum-
mons of winter's call•had anticipated
the coming of your departure•...i had  
sworn to myself to catch you as you'd  
fall•for a brief moment, i had turned  
away•to tend to commitments that  
came with dawn...•i returned to  
stay and wait another day...•  
but the wind had come  
while i was
g
o
n  
e•
    
.
Spenser Bennett May 2016
I've always wanted to be
An astronaut in the deep
Galactic sea where creation wrought
All that is exploding into naught

I know that this could
Not last the empty starlight wood
But I would hope you should ask
To bear the burden of a faceless mask

We could become wild-human-angels
Answering the unending questions
Soul-star-astronauts
But we're not

Leave the grass and the leaves to dust
In search of intergalactic rust
Sink into the ink of darkness perched
Awake from death, supernova rebirthed

All power to the grace of the distant
All glory to the face of singular instant
Bear the weight of tomorrow
Become the force removing sorrow

We could become wild-human-angels
Answering the unending questions
Soul-star-astronauts
But we're not

Such a quiet desperation
Such a dying fascination
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
When I was just a child I went searching for my world,
one of sunlit days, adventure and beauty left unfurled.
Though these days were made to be the a key to set me free
I couldn’t have foreseen the cost that all of this would be.

As I look back on these memories I hoped to have it all,
I believed that love would listen and come answering my call.
I was certain love would find me as I filled my life with song.
Now I’d turn in all these moments for just the promise to belong.

At Oktoberfest with beer halls and the sound of German songs.
The mix of beer and smells of nuts floating through the noisy throngs.
Climbing  on the Untersberg up on Alpines mystic peaks
and attending cocktail parties with Gemany’s elite.

Climbing falls in Ocho Rios with some old and new found friends,
drinking coffee, eating lobster, and enjoying without end.
Driving through the darkened backroads from a day at Negril’s beach,
in a cab with songs of love and Marley counting down the beat.  

In Cancun lagoons were vivid and alive with swarming life,
seas of sergeant majors, parrotfish, and barracuda thrive.
in the Caymans packs of stingrays had become our closest friends,
as we played among them in  a world where the beauty never ends.

The fireworks over Sydney lit the bicentennial sky
while I look upon that moment now with disbelieving eyes.
Waves from the Prince of England as he sat by princess Di
when I left the land down under, well I felt like I would die.

As I watched the sun go down over Uluru’s gold peak,
and the sun rise over Daintree as we picked our morning feast.
digging oysters off the rocks by Nelligan’s foreshores,
I was certain with my best friend that I couldn’t want for more.

Remembering the ocean as I snorkeled though it brief,
in Queensland off the shore on Australia’s barrier reef.
The beauty in Belize nearly took my breath away,
and it seemed to me that God had made this gorgeous land to play.

Camping in the South Pacific beneath the skies and palms.
In the hills of South Dakota we went panning in the calm.
With the Eiffel tower, Louvre and Twilleries rounding out another day
And the visit to the gardens of Monet just made me cry.

It’s surreal to think of all the things I’ve done throughout this life,
and the blessings that I’ve gotten seem enough to make things right.
But the simplest adventure and the one I longed for most
was a man that I could count on and would love and hold me close.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Violet Apr 2017
I always webcam with CJ on Facebook,
since we actually became friends from there!
Everyday, we'd give each other nice look(s),
and sometimes, funnily even just STARE!

While we were talking today with each other,
it'd been, actually, almost past my dinner time!
I heard a strong call from my Daddy, not Mother,
who screamed being downstairs was a full CRIME!

He yelled at me for answering from upstair(s),
telling me I never follow his strict rule(s)!
I guess there're lots that are actually fair,
but I really still do feel like a fool...

That's why I wanted to die.
This poem's in ABAB form (except for that sad, last line - free verse) and, as most of my other writings, has 100 words.
Next page