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Out of nowhere
a thought of you
will hit my mind,
like a poison dart.
I don't know what
triggers it.
Tonight, I think it's
the cold wind blowing
outside my window.
Or, it could be the
tangerine I just ate.
That sweet juice.
It doesn't last
though.
Gone in a flash.
Too small for a
lifetime together.
And I'm alone with
this bright orange pain,
vowing never to write
about you again.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICWIGqf62Kw
Here is a link to my YouTube channel where I read my poetry from my recently published books.

It's Just a Hop, Skip, and Jump to the Madhouse, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.

www.thomaswcase.com
It's such a cold feeling
Turning around to show you something
Excited to make you smile, to share with you
Only to remember, embarrassingly so
That I still have that bad habit
Of turning towards someone who isn't there anymore
Elo 1d
tawny leaf-littered
autumn's cold chill
amber sun, filtered
one tree, one hill

smoky-water rains
water scented earth
heart-loss pains
worms unearth'd

bristled seeds drift
sunset winds, rest
fluff and dust admidst
a heaving chest

sun-warmth falter
cloud coats gold
body upon an altar
everything turns cold
The pond by your father's place always froze over
The ice always reaching no matter whether the weather was freezing or not.
The silence on either side of the window panes killed you, you said.
You told me the patterns on the glass reminded you of bleeding.

You used to have donkeys, and they always loved you.
Bringing them pears and soft touches behind ears.

I was a boy, still, but it all made sense.
The way that your mouth moved
when whispering memories to me.
I remember that Spring that we fell through the ice.
Jangled nerve endings felt stabbing. Cold knives.
Wet hair. Lucky to make it out.

The last time you saw me you told me, "You're bleeding..."
I smiled and spat once and said I was fine.
I'd tripped on your driveway whilst walking to see you
and busted my lips on your mailbox.
You wiped one ring finger, stilled my moving mouth.
It was only a little. (Blood, that is.)

You wiped it again on my shirt.
You ***!

I wish we'd drawn pictures in the snow with it.

The Winter has claimed me, I think, since then.
Blizzards well up in the corners of my eyes from time to time.
Snowbanks form on my brows when I furrow.
I furrow a lot now.

The wasps in the tree at the edge of your father's place
Stung up your back and neck that Summer. Remember?
Calamine smile, you had me pull out the stingers.
Your dad's debit card, wiped across your back.
"Declined," I said.
You laughed.
And the pond, in my memory, still looks iced over
Even though that was July.
Right after my birthday.

Last month, saw the sign, said your father had sold
          his place. Our place.
             He misses you too.

I wish you here now.

We're all getting old, but I can't let myself grow.
I'm not any smarter, I'm just clothed in cold
And I forgot how to feel the way we did then.

I'd like another plunge, through thin ice, I think.
Anyway, I hate the Summer time.
The heat's too mean.
You know that about me.
lunch break  fire escape                  
   seagulls hover  far below              
rattled  by stern winds          
  thoughts battle  their own nature    
no progress  in their flight      
.
tanka style
original notes :my high perch on ninth /fire escape /the backs of gulls below /flight   rattled with wind /no forward progress in flight
It's a good place,
The place we are.
Even in the cold weather,
I know I have your warmth to hold me over.
Because after all the freezing winds,
Comes the happy days of spring,
And this spring, I'll be happy with you.
So won't you get your converse on,
To come flower picking with me.
We can skip down flower fields,
Picking plenty of rosy red poppies.
Love grows with the seasons
neth jones Mar 25
applause of pigeons lifting   a cluttered company
they high circle hurt  between winter stark          
apartments brittle      and settle in braver             
perch and concrete sill
 frosted  but in the sun
17/03/25 (aprox date of original observation and notes)
NF Mar 19
White fur glistens under moonlight,
Where there was strength, now weariness—
The old creature bows to time,
Elegance remains still—

Cold month, frozen love,
Drowning in white—
Pink blossom on the other side,
A voice is calling me to where I cannot go.

I leave the shade open,
Praying for a glimpse—
Silver light, keep me safe—
Under Her spell, protect my dreams.
Ekphrastic poem about the painting by Shunei Nishida
greatsloth Mar 19
This moment is just a dream,
An illusion of a greater being
And once the cold death
Gave us it's warm embrace
We will fall into silence
As we wake up to see the reality.

If so, then why plague your mind with worry?
If this is just a dream, then why are you experiencing it in tragedy
When you can easily make it into comedy.
I'm airing out these poems, they went unuploaded for a year lol
Faith Cubitt Mar 16
Blue is how I feel about you....
Blue is how cold my blood runs whenever I think about you.
Blue and black is the colour of the sky and rain the night you told me you were leaving, the night you chose to not be with me.
Blue were your eyes that I so willingly drowned in.
Blue is now my only emotion.
when I think about you, my eyes flash with blue.... when the sky so bright and beautiful crowds over me.
Blue is how I die, remembering you.
Blue is somehow always going to be you....
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