Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I haven’t done this in a while
Is it silly to be nervous?

My door bell rings
My heart speeds
Mother calls “Daisy!”
And I realize she means me

I haven’t done this in a while
Is it foolish to be restless?

I take the steps one by one
Being sure not to topple down
The door creaks open and
I can see him standing there now.

I haven’t done this in a while
Is it odd to jump into his arms?

He smiles at me and my mother
He answers questions from my father
Everything is perfect
But I can’t help but fidget.

I haven’t done this in a while
Is it wrong to want to run?

We leave the house and walk down
A path of many flowers
I’m unsure what to think
But I find myself counting the hours.

I haven’t done this in a while
Is it childish to hold his hand?

I get into his car
Smoothing my skirt and catching breaths
He pulls out something for me now
And my heart takes a rest.

I haven’t done this in a while
Is it alright to try to kiss him?

I smell the Daisies, white and lush
Loyally loving and so gentle
Does he know I cherish them such?

Not just for the name we share
Or the thorns they lack unlike roses
Not for the simplicity of their petals so fair
But for the meaning behind them

Loving, loyal; so gentle, so innocent

I haven’t done this in a while
But I think I can handle it now.
Sara L Russell, 17/5/14 00:29am*

I speak, therefore I ****.
Complacent in my seat of ancient learning,
  I can and will
undo your fragile notions,
your vapid little dreams;
I'll pierce your ego with a word.
  Your ego is absurd.

I sleep in blameless peace.
Reclining on my cloud of contemplation,
  I can and do
lampoon your trite devotions,
tug on their fraying seams;
I'll take your confidence away
  with everything I say.

You're weaker than I am,
Regurgitated clichés haunt your writing,
  you know it's true
You wear the same emotions;
no common sense redeems
the foolish things you write
- till I slay them with spite.
Inspired by a war of words between an editor and ex-co-editor of an anthology of poetry. The editor who was dismissed from co-editing wrote a very damning review of said anthology on amazon(dot)com. The original editor was very upset by his words and a battle of counter-reviews began. This poem is a satire of critics in general, especially self-styled poetry critics.
They call me blood when I **** the silence
I got a pen on paper and a flow like violence
I am so ill, I think I have a virus.
I need to blow these spineless rappers out of my sinus

Then I ate a sexist for breakfast
and I got so sick I spit gay rights into texas.
Rest in peace to all my ex's
I've got em stacked like 20's
in the trunk of my lexus.

-r0
to be continued...
Hello World,

If you could ******* isolation
you would ***** fifty shades
of I wish I were as easily pleased
as you.

If I could be happy with simplicity
and the birds and the bees
and the SNL and cable
and the drone, drone, drone.

commercial break
I have no channels left
all flowing into the image
of the ******* I hold
to the past.

you will know me
as the disaster
who tried.

I will throne above
the artificial sunshine
coming through
the window of your
domestic screens.  

-r0
 May 2014 SKelly Woz
Sean Banks
The baseline throbbed
And the chorus echoed
With liquid confidence
And a substance filled mind
As I approached from behind

I put my right hand on her hip
My left hand clinching my pabst
She turn around and said,
“I thought you were going grab my ***”

I spoke no words, just grinned
She smiled
I hadn’t had this much confidence
in a long while.
She whipped her hair and my heart went wild

“Do you want do dance with me?”
She whispered in my ear
I placed my other hand on her hip
My beer hit the floor
I whispered back
“That and so much more”

“I want to move
And make time stand still
I want you to whimper at my will
And rise to my roar”


“I want to show you how good I am with
My words
And my hands
And my tongue
And my lungs”


“I want to show you the world
I want to paint portraits of mountains
Before climbing them
And from mountain tops I want to
Draw the sky
I want our eyes
To gaze at the stars within us”


“I want to learn everything about you
As I show you everything I am”


“I want to dance for you
As you dance for me”


We danced all evening

And due to my success on this night
It was the highest I had ever been.
 Apr 2014 SKelly Woz
Liam
they say a watched *** never boils
but my mind certainly does
and i watch it all the time
it's never out of my sight
yet it's constantly spilling its contents
in a roiled turmoil
all over my consciousness

the result is a reduction
of my state of mind
of my perspective
either a concentrated awareness
or a flavorless sludge of grey matter
it all depends on the heat applied
it all depends on evaporation

a proper chef would be attentive
a saucier of good stock
choosing quality ingredients
maintaining a simmer
avoiding a seethe
controlling condensation
distilling even pabulum to perfection
 Feb 2013 SKelly Woz
Anne M
My memories of you are wires
crossed with the stories
I’ve so often heard.
Dates and certain traits
are now blurred
and faded.
I can’t remember your voice.
It’s been years since I could,
but I remember
how it rumbled.

I do remember your arms—stalwart
and freckled so deeply they looked
tanned—the same arms that gave blood
in the name of each
of your grandchildren.
Your arms were my first charitable act.

When I would wake at four
and stumble sleepily into the living room
to find you watching the news
on mute
in that old battered recliner,
your arms were my rocking chair.

When you marshaled your parade
of capped grandchildren
across the street
to the park that will forever be yours,
your arms were a force of nature,
sending multiple swings soaring
into the air
in a complex rhythm
only you
could comprehend.

I remember your chest—barrel-shaped
and strong—creating a whistle
more powerful than I could fathom.
I still think of you
each time
I manage to carry a tune.

I remember your hands
picking me up and dusting me off
when I jumped
too soon.
The selfsame hands
that gathered up all the caps we strew
carelessly in the grass and mulch
balancing them one by one
atop your head
when the sun was setting
and it was time to leave.

I can remember
that lovely rumble
leading one final rendition
of “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot”
as you marched us
safely home.
BCM
Clear off the bed
and come lie next to me
or lie with me
or crawl under these sheets
and die with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clear out your mind
and sink down low with me
or get high with me
or hold my hand
and lose some time with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clean up your act
and fall apart with me
or fall, apart from me
or fall, a part of me
and take some time to cry with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clean out your car
and run away with me
or run to me
or put it in reverse
and go back to the start with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Cleanse your spirit
and embrace this pain with me
or brace for pain with me
or take a moment to put me back together
and just be with me, with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could still get used to this
© 2012 Jene'e Patitucci
 Nov 2012 SKelly Woz
Jim Morrison
Thoughts in time and out of season
The Hitchhiker stood by the side of the road
And leveled his thumb
In the calm calculus of reason.

Hi. How you doin’?

I just got back into town,

L.A.

I was out in the desert for awhile

“Riders on the storm”

Yeah. In the middle of it

“Riders on the storm”

Right…

“Into this world we’re born”

Hey, listen, man, I really got a problem

“Into this world we’re thrown”

When I was out on the desert, ya know

“Like a dog without a bone
An actor out on loan”

I don’t know how to tell you

“Riders on the storm”

but, ah, I killed somebody

“There’s a killer on the road”

No…

“His brain is squirming like a toad”

It’s no big deal, ya know

I don’t think anybody will find out about it, but…

“take a long holiday”

just, ah…

“Let your children play”

this guy gave me a ride, and ah…

“If you give this man a ride”

started giving me a lot of trouble

“Sweet family will die”

and I just couldn’t take it, ya know

“Killer on the road”

And I wasted him

Yeah.
Next page