Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dream Fisher Apr 2019
I miss laying in the grass
Even if it made my skin itch,
The freedom was worth the time to pass.
A sun burned face and back
Feels worth a beautiful day turning to night
In a trance where time goes off track.
How I wish I could hold those days so tight.
Gone in an instant, slipping through aged cracks.

If you sing and dance, no matter where you are.
I support you to hell and back.
If you are afraid to ever show your colors
Because people stare and laugh
I hope you take that random chance,
Someone may even start to clap.
Personally, I laugh right back.
Now the same squares are part of the act.
Keep dancing.

Whenever or wherever it rains
I can only promise one thing
I will be found dancing in the street
Even during work hours, I remove my chains
And take a break to get soaked head to feet.
I promise this is a practice I actually do
And you can feel free to do it too.
Be free. Be you.
False Poets Apr 2019
words conveyed with a mutual clarity parity for communication
will end only when the world ends first
and the communitas is no more,and words, exist purposelessly  
for there is no left with whom to communicate, precisely

but now, of this moment,
write words, sentences multiplied but circumscribed,
verses with mystical aura,
whose utility so suspect and multiple meanings hidden within,
taken by you for the specific utility you uncover and create

ah, to write of things clearly visible to all,
but possessed differently, by each reader, this is the greatest commonsensical commonwealth useful
for and of humans indexed by unique word tendons tenderly

when this passes, when literature no longer
can be messengered to 127 Persian provinces,
each the message same,
yet given up in 127 different languages^

when you understand my poems perfectly then,
their utility is inutile,
the usefulness is in the
nth reinterpretation,
a million and still counting,
as long as you must guess at its labyrinth wired inner construct,
being pleasured by the roiled and rolled curves upon your tongue,
a lives paired wine tasting, together believing
in the greatness of joyous frustration

some say, I do, the world is better for the
utility of thine own struggled understanding,
the truest combination of two way communication,
surpassed only by our armed embrace at last




p.s. Pradip, be careful what you wish for....a poet false...


9:15am  April 3, 2019
^ Book of Esther 1:22 For he (the King) sent letters into all the king's 127 provinces, into every province according to the writing thereof, and to every people after their language, that every man should bear rule in his own house, and that it should be published according to the language of every people.
Colm Apr 2019
Jellyfish
How they float and fray and sting at random
A serious catch they are not in any specific way
Sporty or otherwise, directional
You jelly?
You should be
At least the bending spine know it's own winding way
With a dorsal not carried by every tide
Or captivated by the time of day
You jelly?
You should be, hahaha!
Laughing profusely
Next page