Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aquila 32m
I am on to bigger
and better
and she will stay in
       and one day it will burn.
and I won't care
oh how far i have
let myself go

i have forgotten
how it feels
how the words

no more

i need to express
how i feel
and i have never learned
how to be vocal

its been about five years since i last wrote a poem.
Dog not a human
Didn't go
Veterinary College
Yet know it
Great depth of knowledge
Dog not a human
More than a human
Humans turn rogues
A dog doesn't
Dog not a human
More than a human
Dogs are most intelligent, innocent and loyal species in the world. The sense of smell of a dog is extraordinarily brilliant. A dog can distinguish around thirty thousand scents.
Well-spoken, well-written
Talented, gifted
Driven and willing
Broken but healing
Confident, capable
Ambitious and able
Beautiful, striking
Uniquely enticing
Mind full of brilliance
Strong and resilient
Kind and persistent
Bright and ebullient
Selfless, joyful
Trusting and loyal

A masterpiece the world adores
For she is everything I'm not and more
each moment that you survive
takes you one step closer
to the time when
things will be better.

it might still be far away.
it might not be an easy journey.

but right now,
you are reading this

which means you are awake

which means you are alive

which means that
you have survived
every single moment
up to this point.

you have survived
every heartbreak

every loss

every laugh

every smile


you have survived
through times where
you weren’t sure you could do it.
but you did.

and now, you are done reading.
now, you are a few minutes
and 127 words closer
to seeing better days.
better days are coming.
just keep reading.
just keep breathing.

keep breathing…
keep breathing…
keep breathing…
Politics and religion are all I wish to talk about.
Define your terms in balance with mine
and we may converse on equal points
where such delicate touch means
balancing seen and hoped for
reality in times of
such interesting
side realities,
-- screentimes, verily virtually real at the level
of sub-myelinated signals from old

layers of visionary invariables sift us to this

appearing as real as walled people in the
memory damning days, as paper was
seen to burn at Fahrenheit 451,
and we all saw The Tattooed Man
had the Pawnbroker's face and hands.

What forms the mob, if radio were never real.
How would we agree we know one thing
alike as an overture, or a rag-time blue
feeling story from both sides
in one song, y'know?
Am I lyin?

Tell a story like Micaiah?
Eh, lead a king astray by leaving him believe all he wishes
were true? Long live the lie, must I say, in silence,

to what effect?
How great a fire can one tongue kindle?
Can a tongue tamed and reined, rule itself,
perse, make a word
power. See said is seeing read, hearing read,
being told to see said things as the sayer said,

read, the words we say we write informing awe
one we, away…
--- every story has an arrow in time, the archer aims,
the arrow flies, see
silver bullets are useful when wooden stakes
seem as splinters of truth repulsed in ***** efforts
to remain un impierced…
at the appointed time…

-- it sounds like science fiction, and that is normal now.

Hiyo, Silver…
how deep do radio waving ripples go,
in shaping a child born down wind of Nevada…
sleep learning seems to
have evolved evil in to a state
of being where nothing good can ever happen,
- dreams cease and deep sleep ensues
so we wake to find, just as we expected, sufficient evil
to force our hands to clap,
our fingers to flex, and our will to see goodwill be done,
one day, at least,
I made may my word, and I noticed your reading
gave my may to you.
Peace out, we yoostasay.
May your best you rule
this day.
Have your own way. Remember:
Doing evil makes your self disappear.
All innovative players are given that one clue as a rule.
In my game of life, I never tire of testing for sanity. Who cares if this means nothing and nothing is something that never makes things worse?
When I look forward I see you, my past
But I’m not looking back
So that shouldn’t be possible
There you are in my mind, a fossil
a pure figment I’ve tried to bury
The weak dirt just flows away all weary
an iceberg with your face just floats there
That I’ve tried to drown
The water always fails to suffice
so it still drifts around
Maybe one day
my conscience won’t be so conscious of you
Maybe someday
Somebody else will replace what you left
Somebody will sweep you away
Maybe it will be a better you instead
So when I look forward, it’s clear
Maybe a better you will be you
Beauty is my witness
To the better things to come
Rachel Rae Oct 9
Sweet Magnolia
Born in dead winter
Wouldn't have stood a chance
Even had Lady Luck pitied her
Too sweet for this world
Allesha Eman Oct 7
Although moments are fleeting,
so are worries,
Even summer’s goodbye,
Is a mosaic of pigments
That one can not help but stare
In absolute admiration

Good things end,
and better things begin.
Next page