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Noel Billiter Sep 2018
Mr. handsome stranger
He’s coming after
Desperate like a last request
Frantic delusional lunatic
Unhinged fragile losing what’s left
Self serving sadomasochistic
Easy on the eyes but doesn’t quite fit in
Playing it cool in social situations
His intelligent banter he claims as his own
With somewhat smart comebacks he practiced at home

Trying so hard that the sweat beads down
Onto his stressed wrinkled furrowed brow
the stories he skillfully misdirected  
Carefully darting  unwanted questions
Mr. Indiscreet can’t blow his cover
Disarm the girl of his unrealistic dreams
How quite average and normal he can be

Mr. Stalker walks over to the Girl
works up the courage and talks to her
Strikes up a witty conversation
With his movie star smile and education
Using the words that he pre rehearsed
Says all the right things and compliments her
Looking past his rather peculiar behavior
And when politely asked gives up her number

He rings her up the very next day
With a romantic scenic picnic date
Under the shade of a lush green tree
Upon a blanket with wine and cheese
Playing the part of the handsome boyfriend
Gains her full trust and faith in him

Joking in a effort to make her laugh
To put her at ease and follow his plan
Jealous of her ex boyfriends
Knowing their names and full address
And when he drops her off at home
Tracks and follows her every move
Knows all her weekly kept routines
Threatens and blackmails all her friends
Studies everyday mundane errands
Unaware of his decent into madness
Cné  Aug 2017
the fall
Cné Aug 2017
when i fall,
i don't just fall in love.
clumsily, i stumble
down and then i land

awkwardly and graceless,
stuttering utterly at the foot
of a handsome man,

blundering an apology
out of breath, ineptly
embarrassed about
my shaky hands,

clambering
to dust myself off,
all the while, i try,
desperately, to stand

wishing i could disappear,
i rise as quickly as i can
waving off any helping hand

so he doesn't see
how incredibly ******
i must be
Doh
She told me
I was young, handsome,tall,
well sculpted and brave,
She worshipped  me,
She had blinds over her eyes,
She was not my Aphrodite.
I was not her Adonis,
I fled.
I am lazy,
I am afraid of cockroaches,
I snore a lot,
I love to watch football on T.V,
I sometimes forget to leave the toilet sit up,
In short, I  have flaws,
I am human, not a God.
Cné  Dec 2017
the waiter
Cné Dec 2017
she dragged me out of the house
knowing i was feeling down
not allowing me to wallow
in my self pity,

she dressed me,
        painted my face
               fashioned my hair,
that’s my girl friend

at Juliana’s,
small family owned Italian restaurant,
a gem of a find, she said,
Lorenzo, greeted her with familiarity
(she leaves a memorable impression)

she introduced me as her bestie
with a twinkle in her eye
young (as all under 30 people are to me)
handsome, dark thick curly haired,
with dancing eyes,
a serving towel over his left arm
nodded with a genuine smile

i smiled back despite my mood

wine was swirled, smelled,
sampled and selected
a captivating performance,
executed expertly

she watched me
watching him
describe the specials  
with a melodic Italian accent
transforming my mood

garlic knots wafting with his stride,
placed on the table
with a small bowl of marinara sauce
still hovering
in his long lean fingers
it slipped,
splattering red stain
on the pristine white cloth

without skipping a beat
his eyes poured into mine
words emerged
forgive me, your beauty made me nervous
True story,
and yes I left a fat tip!
Best line ever
Woody Aug 2018
Do not listen to hunting dogs
baying in dark woods, or the black
flies buzzing around in your head
remembering long dead friends

Poets have done this before
and they’ve wandered off
alone and unheard of to bury
the caul of their own stillborn

Every time I open a bottle
of red wine, the bad Moon
dowses blood from the ******’s
stone thighs and I think I am
handsome, young and drunk
again, eternal as a ****

Poets have made love and gathered
at the cheap joints, cutting their fingers
toasting one another, curse words
hidden deep beneath low breaths
and the noise of a singer’s raspy voice

They’ve gotten cold feet
at the crucial moments when
left alone with the student
that had the saddest blue eyes

Poets have done this before,
I assure you, my friends

Every time I see a young man
tucking a gun in the back of his pants
I want to say forget it and drink
or have a seat, my brother, let’s rap

Poets have done this before,
I seen it behind dark eyes at night

We are but dust under the hooves
of horses running side by side
with the fog, thinking all that moves
us to write is something new, like light
that shines for the lonely bone moth

Poets have done this before

I know it like the cigarette holes
she burned through my tablecloth
on those cold nights she spent writing,
like her cough I could hear, so long
a time ago, I’d rather not remember.
interesting. Those disappearing downward thumbs skurrying away like rats.
when i see my handsome crush
he makes me giggle, makes me blush,
i get so extremely flustered,
it's almost as if i turn to custard,
i melt away at his gorgeous glance,
i look at him and know there's no chance,
how does he do this, i turn to mush,
my god, how my handsome crush is so lush!
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