Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
I was walking down the steps and before I knew it I fell.
I closed my eyes bracing myself to feel the clang of my face against steel steps.
The thing about anticipation, it seems that it takes longer to happen before it actually does.
Freeing myself in thought I anticipated a hard fall only to open my eyes and
see that I fell right into the palm of your hand
nina babic Dec 2016
i thought i knew about
the waves,

i thought i knew about
the melancholy

of how the moon cycle
did curse the seas to

fold in and fold out
on command until

everything did pour out
onto the beaches;

exhausted.

a slave to cycles, they said!
well, the sea and a woman

they were always equal,
in that respect.

i thought i knew
about the internal

sense, how we do
anticipate tides of

distress to greet us
every so often by moonlight.

i expect it now; to
come home and weep,

but only by harvest moon,
and only by God’s hand.

so, here it comes,
the big one.

hormonal, chemical, awful
sickness; i wait for it.

no surfer skill could keep
me from falling prey to it.

nervous, so nervous
about the sea, pounding.

tricked into thinking,
that foresight was valuable.

that if i knew of its arrival,
i could yield, taste grass

instead of sands, coral
craggy beaches

where i am stranded
until spring rolls in.

so,

here it comes,
the big one.
written on: november 8th, 2016
Nic Sutcliffe Dec 2016
The light tasting air
   Just after the rain
The warm smelling sun
   as it shines once again
The sweet sight of birdsong
   As night starts to wane
I'm going home...

Familiar, the Love
   That Envelopes my Soul
Novel, the desire
   That tailors my goal
Humbling, the sadness
   That makes me feel whole
I'm going home...

No matter how far
  This wanderer goes
Africa is home
  This much he knows
Thoughts of returning
  Excitement, it grows
      
Simply because
I'm going home...
After far too long, returning home even just for a short visit brings joy to this weary traveller. Life is fleeting. Enjoy every moment. Be Love
Francie Lynch Dec 2016
Our Holiday Season's fast upon us,
Ribbons and bows are holding sway,
But I recall all the fuss
When Christmas was two weeks away.

Yes, it's been a year already
Since being swept-up in the frenzy;
Singing Silent Night and Silver Bells,
And awake until the last Noel.

But Yules ago, when just a boy,
Not toying in childish play,
Yet wanting more than I could say;
But Christmas still two weeks away.

You'd think that on the twentieth
I'd get a better sense of it,
But Christmas still two weeks away.

Come December twenty-first,
I felt I was Christmas cursed;
For it didn't matter what who'd say,
Christmas still two weeks away.

At dawn on the twenty-second,
The smell of pine seduced and beckoned;
Beneath the needles I spied presents,
Recognizing a gift-wrapped sleigh,
I cursed, It's still two weeks away.

The day before the twenty-fourth,
I couldn't see the wooden floor,
Gifts were flowing to the door.
I crossed my fingers,
Wished and prayed,
But Christmas still two weeks away.

The twenty-fourth languished
Long and slow,
The light would fade,
The night would show,
Off to Midnight Mass we'd go,
We'd press palms and plead forgiveness,
Then touch wood and beg for snow

Although it's still two weeks away,
I've much to do,
I cannot say,
Thank God tomorrow's not Christmas Day.
*Christmas but two weeks away.
When you're young, time can't move fast enough.
sitting alone
i check my phone
but there's nothing new

waiting for her
but i can't be sure
if she's waiting too

but it's getting late
i should do more than wait
because at this rate
i'll end up frustrated
depleted and blue

but all this, i'm above
i can't help but stare
for it's all out of love
and of genuine care
every moment i spend
i come to depend
on her soul touching mine
we've become intertwined
so perhaps she'll see
what she means to me
and why i long to see her name
grace the glass of my phone
and have hope she feels the same
and forever together be sewn
Angelique Nov 2016
In a new place despite being in an old home
There's pain in a good man's soul, but there is also hope in better dreams
You endure disappointment and subsquent apologies
-in hopes of infinite salvation
Permanently remaining in a state of anticipation destined to an exhausting routine.
Joshua Penrod Nov 2016
Dust by dust and word by word
You formed me from the walk-able earth..
Reforming the wind while turning it into breath
The very first milestone beaten with the very first step..
The garden giving the eyes something to see
Some type of solace born into simple majesty..
Making the ground good for walking
The same way syllables are proving grounds for talking..
Everything new without the need to begin again
And it’s all-overwhelming given the wealth to take in..
A brand new world

"Brand New World" -JP
Katie Murray Oct 2016
Coffee cups and pet canaries
Dog-eared books, soft radio
Piles of pillows and cold kitchen tiles
It’s 6.59; ready, set-
12 / 10 / 16
AfterImage Sep 2016
Anticipation, a frozen breath upon the wind.
Endings beginning where beginning's end.
I am captured in waiting.
Time marches on trading all of our nows for laters.
Deliberate and debate, I delay.
I am captured in waiting.
Vacant visage I sleep away seeking morning’s light.
The next day and still the next, always.
I am captured in waiting.

I am still in waiting.


I am in waiting.



I am waiting.




I’m waiting.





Waiting.






Wait.
Amy H Jul 2016
this limb I’m on
may snap
and from here the ground looks mean.
I didn’t climb here
by myself you know.
but I’m anxious to come down.
if I jump will you duck
or catch me when I fall?
your arms decide my fate.
so how will this go?
my heart has gone ahead.
will you please catch the rest?
these limbs don't bend
to comfort me
but yours could.
the one in power always stands on the ground
Next page