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Yuki Jan 2019
****** were my eyes
and all their blinks
for I missed you
in those seconds
my eyelids kept me
away from the sight
of your beauty.
AAron Roz Jul 2018
I hate being alone.
I start to pull my hair out,
I see things,
I go insane.
Little by little.
Cut by cut.
Blink by blink.
Breath by breath.
Being alone, is my worst fear.
Kewayne Wadley Apr 2018
I caught you in the corner of my eye.
If only you could read my mind.
The sweet notations I selfishly hold.
I'd like to think that I've caught you.
Displacing myself in every other word you say.
If you've ever noticed my eyes as close as they are now.
The intimacy of being held close.
Secret longing.
The swift pace that eyes move.
Catching you in the corner of my eye.
On the border of each blink.
Temptation, the watering of eyes.
Terrified to close.
Terrified that when they open you'll be gone.
Having to chase and catch you all over again
when another (anointed as lady lucky)
   resident renter bequeathed her bed
prior to that good samaritan deed thyself and spouse
   slept on the floor like dogs dead
tired from another day acclimatizing ourselves,

   especially when tummies got well fed
and grudging adjustment lying
   supine upon the carpet

   did upon arising found aches and pains from head
to toes, yet financial shortcomings disallowed this Jed
eye wannabe to defer attending domestic chores,
   cuz ma whole body felt like a Led
Zeppelin, and matter of fact oft times,

   thy body electric, though lacked
   no evidence of disease NED
for short, I near felt a need to relearn basic motor skills,
   gingerly, and eagerly reached for performance
   enhancing drug i.e. PED

which coded identification exemplified the a rich color of red
this (and other) prescription medication
   (about a half dozen total found me to sleep akin to a Ted
dee bear, many instances of snoring  
   thine wife claimed emanated –
   probably no more than when we wed

if memory serves me correctly
   twenty plus years a husband aye attest
and find peace of body, mind and spirit most exuberant and best
cherished, when hen pecking wife (yup, this husband

   got pecking, pock, puck size marks to vouchsafe
   his sworn statement)
   some visible on my slightly flabby and hairless chest
and if traced with a ball point pen, the shape
   loosely resembles mount Everest

with evidence of what appears to be erosion,
   but actually evidence of wifely cannibalism –
   viz zit on par as with an unwanted guest
which at first found this pop (sic) hull averse
   to share the same firm mattress lest
she arise like a flesh eating zombie during
   wee ***** weber hours of the morning and taking nest
ling to another level, whereby teeth and scratch marks
   sure testament asper a pest

stiff ferrous mate, this husband would sooner bid adieu,
   letting fate guide  terrestrial quest
that might incorporate undergoing the
   electric kool aid acid test

perhaps buffeting this corporeal essence north west
or maybe the unforeseen sojourn would spirit thyself
   to a distant alien nation
one where each day of soundness of mental, physical
   and spiritual growth will be reason enough
   to celebrate with élan and zest.

Now tis one upside to this stroke when with restfulness
   awake after nocturnally conjuring sheep and lil bo beep
yet, no ambition exists to get down and out
   from this posh plush place to sleep
even wild horses cant drag me away, lest hie weep.
Alice Wilde Sep 2017
Slips through fingers
Like moon-silk threads
Waiting to be drawn out
Into something beautiful
Äŧül Feb 2017
The right eye I avoid blinkin',
There is a new irritant therein,
But harmless compared to the killer,
The killer roamin' here an' there,
Thousands of faces she always had,
And she dons one or the other,
Kills by the name of the lover.
My HP Poem #1415
©Atul Kaushal
Joyce Jan 2016
Trying to understand it all.
Always looking for answers.
In your head you keep thinking.
Staring without blinking.
Making choices.
Hear good and bad voices.
Finding peace in your heart.
Let your soul unwind.
Only the hardest prison
to escape is in your mind.

— The End —