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Cyan Aug 6
Liken lichen to a chimera.
Made one is multiple fungus in the forest.
Take a snapshot with your camera
Of the photosynthetic lycan that crawled
Up the bark of the dogwood flora.
Ahmed Herrou May 29
What's your name?
You're a so so-so so-and-so.
For reasons you say you don't know,
you'd always find me feeling so low.
Is it you? Or my love for you?
In the morning, I'm mourning.
Wondering if something
would change.
My sorrow's soaring,
hovering till the end;
my doom.
Won't you you save me
from this gloom?
My heart has no room
for it but you.
Is it you or my love for you?
Rebecca Bates Feb 26
Standing on the shoreline of a smooth unmoving pond
Stars mirrored in deep silver, serenely desolate
Venus cupped exactly in the waxing crescent’s core
The water, black and soundless, boundless, starkly infinite
Inseparable, we watched entranced. Together on the shore.

We stepped into the cool smooth water, calmly, hand in hand
Effortlessly sliding in the soundless silver pond
And underneath that water, silent, absolutely still
Our desires were extinguished. Our aching hearts erased
In the utter quiet comfort of the water's cool embrace

... This I do remember. The rest, you know by heart
How this ever spinning world will in due time, illuminate
What the dark had hidden. The white hot stone within
The deepest core of dreaming. And all our days defined
By desire. Our hearts clamour. But we're never satisfied.

And I wonder, does it matter, in the gritty dragging days
Boredom laced from time to time by yearning, sharp and hot
Does it matter to distinguish what's illusion and what's not?
If I can summon back a single flash of that dark water
Why not **** time in trying? I'd rather love than not.

And you, of course. Unshocking, that swift flicker of surprise
The striking disappointment as precisely, midnight chimes.
And the masks are lifted. So I ask you, what’s the difference
If I’m entranced by man or mask? Illusion or existance?
Wherever pleasure’s sought is for the seeker to decide.

When my heart’s unquiet, loud with longing and desire,
Defiantly I seek you. Not vanquished, not quite yet
Tick by tick receding. But I insist on keeping this:
Inseparate underwater, serenely intertwined
A distant hint of feeling. Thus is my keen heart satisfied.
Filomena Nov 2018
it feels pretty strange
being called by a phrase
that isn't my name
Filomena Nov 2018
My mind is a prison.
I can read the sign, but it wasn't mentioned in the manual.
Just sigh and move on.
Paul Butters Oct 2017
Alliteration and assonance
Are what we need to make words dance.
Pretty poetic practices percolate the page,
As apples happily meet our approval and appreciation.
Words have music
As surely as the sun
Gives light.
And all these things
Are older than the hills.

Paul Butters
First 2 lines were writen 10\10\2013, so I just carried on......
Julia Aug 2017
My knuckles look like coke and roses
The winter bit them hard; they cracked
I **** on them; they bleed their noses
I fear they are forever chapped

My knuckles look like milk and lipstick
Dressed in cream and Vaseline
I'm oiled up so says the dipstick
With pink supreme silk gasoline

My knuckles look like wine and diamonds
I deck them out most everyday
They never mind the crime and violence
I keep them moist with Tanqueray

My knuckles look like snow and crowbar
They finally just had enough
I tried to run; I didn't go far
My knuckles, unlike me, are rough
I got into a fight with the curb on which I cry.
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