Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Owen Cafe Jul 15
Meaningful connection.

5 seconds for thought.

Don't rush.

5 seconds for thought.


5 seconds for thought.

Speak. Express. Connect from the soul.

5 seconds for thought.

We are more than words.
Overwhelmed by the colloquial nuance of society.
Speak from your core.
Passion is the foundation of human existence.
Brent Kincaid Mar 2017
They’s times when I
Jess cain’t say it good
And times when I am
Jess plain amazing;
Then teachers and snobs
Seem to all agree and
Subject whut I say to
Harsh degrees of hazing.

It seems like they ain’t never
Said the wrong word before
Whatever, they jess don’t
Seem to put me on ignore
And move to importanter things
Than grammarical stuff;
As fer me, I’m jess turnin’ them off
‘Cause I have had me enough.

I only had me an education
Up to the eleventh grade or so
A whole buncht of that silly stuff
I got told  but I still don’t know.
My dad and my mom too
They got taught just like me.
And I talk good enough for them.
Change my perfectly acceptable talk?
Really now, the chances are slim.

We say ain’t and cain’t and acrost
And other such acceptable words.
And some of the more ‘proper’ things
Ain’t nothin’ but jess plain absurd.
Like widdershins and tatterdemalion,
Sequipedalian, octogenarian as well.
If I’m expected to talk like that
Y’all can just go straight to hell.
Eric Martin Dec 2016
There is not much people fear But I you will tell you here
That every one in this mortal world
Are all scared of dying without their loved ones near
Or simply just getting old
But I tell you here there is nothing to fear
Because Death isn't that cold

Now my story starts with what I hold close to my heart, See there is nothing more important then my loved ones to me
But I am a broke slob without a job and can't even feed my family
My wife would ***** while I snored and we would never let are children see
But finally one day I got fronted pay to set sail on the sea

It was long days for not much pay to hunt something under the waters hid
The men would tell tales that it was a monsteress whale but others said it was a giant squid
The one thing every one did know is this wasn't a trip for rich to go because there wasn't a single night
That we all didn't miss our wife's or fear for our lives that we weren't going to make it back alright

On one cold night under the stale moon light the monster every one did see
But I was last to know because for my last shift I didn't show and no body awoke me
As I snored inside water poured and in my dream I thought a giant was taking a ***
But as I awoke I knew this was no joke so I began to flea

I climbed up rail and felt the hard rocks hail as I saw the most grizzly sight
The ship was red, every one was mutilated and dead; I couldn't help but go white
All that was left was me but in the water a shadow I did see and in my soul there was still lots of fight
I set set sail threw a harpoon in the monsters tail as I promised the crew I would make things right

Before I knew what to do the horrid creator had turned around
As he hit our load our ship did explode but I wasn't going to drowned
I pulled out my knife, fought within and inch of my life and stabbed it in the heart
As it sank my mind went blank but I knew going after this monster wasn't smart

On top of the waters sea there was a man walking toward me as I took my last breath
I was in a trance and ****** my pants as I saw it was Death
He pulled me out as I began to shout begaing him for one last chance
Life is tough but I haven't had enough, at least let my give my family one last glance

Behind his cloak I saw a smile that made me choke and caused me lost of stress
He said "buddy this is my job I am just a working slob and that monster caused quite allot of distress
You don't have to cry I wont make you die because I still have to clean up this mess
Even though I will let you go I still have to reap the rest

Heres a life boat, oar and that way leads to shore but just know there is nothing special about being alive
One day you will see, you will be doing this job like me; working your 9 to 5
You shouldn't care because eventually your family will also be there and your life again will be stable
You can still have fun even if there is always a job to be done but at least you will be able to put food on the table"

There is not much people fear But I you will tell you here
That every one in this mortal world
Are all scared of dying without their loved ones near
Or simply just getting old
But I tell you here there is nothing to fear
Because Death isn't that cold
Wow this is starting to climb up their fast as one of my more popular poems. If people see this can you comment Y OR N if you Finished It Or  NOT
Ma Cherie Sep 2016
Well, I'd woke up early
**** rooster
just about  the crack of dawn
last crickets chirping loudly
heavy dew carpetin' the lawn
cold air, ya know
can see my breath that time of mornin'
as the tired furnace is  a kickin' in


Emmmm hmmm, well dat'
woodstove she's a squirmin' with anticipation!
Yes sir,
smell of the incomin' weather
fresh cut and stacked Maple, except them box elder type you know gettin'
Oak too, yut
some Birch ...burns real pretty

I hear them pumpkin patches callin'
eager to win those hearts
and the children
funny duffers in costumes

Ya, beckonin' a reckonin' they are
to become silky pies in their namesake
a big ol' mess left in that wake
from jack-o-lanterns,
& roasted an toasted
seeds of joy we use all win'ter 'round here

Kinda like the sound of them tires on the pavement ya know?
Warm hummin',
they're rustlin' down asphalt
with the leaves
visitors headed home again
will give way to the sloshin' of sleet, freezin' rain
whata' pain

Well here comes the ol' horses
and a wooden cart
to collect the trash
17 years
Percheron prizes them beauties
I really like that sound too
hoves clunkin' in perfect harmony

Yut, agreed,
love this place indeed
clip clopin' along with jinglin' bells soon
straight outta' Robert Frost he is

A symphony of smells
the ringin' of the church bells
time to eat

"Well...take a seat
Mornin' boys"

Oh Momma's up
Fill up her cup!

Oh thank you kindly
Well, we got some perfectly cooked hickr'y smoked local bacon
Scrambled eggs so beautiful and fluffy they look like clouds of clear yellow sunshine on that plate
those girls did well this year
Maple yogurt I insist on
with that crunchy homemade
sweet n' salty nut Granola
Don't forget some fresh fruit salad
stuff goin' on now
rest been reserved for winter days
Can't say that I'm not lookin' forward
to some wild blueberry pancakes
and that beautiful amber
Vermont maple syrup"

was a lotta' work drainin' those sleepin' veins of golden sugar
Is a great mornin'

"Good to savor the wonderful gifts the seasons bring, share and enjoy "

We certainly are grateful ma'am.

Take Your Hat Off What's The Hurry?
Just because...some people say "Yut" silencing the T here not everyone of course, I love old time Vermonter's they know everyone and everything!
Chris Neilson Aug 2016
I noticed blackberries in my hedge
juicy, ripe and ready for picking 'em
ran for something to put 'em in
don't want anyone else nicking 'em

Washed 'em, rinsed 'em, put 'em in a bag
had a notion to freeze 'em
sealed 'em in a freezer bag
labelled 'em and dated 'em

When my mam next makes a pie
she'll have 'em then defrost 'em
no one makes blackberry pie as good as my mam
when she bakes 'em, she should sell 'em

We sloppily drop our "th's" round our way
if you see other poets, don't tell 'em
Where I live in Northern England, people don't live in our neighbourhood, they live "round our way". i,e "yes, I know Dave Smith, he lives round our way"
Evangeline Ashe Aug 2015
Fahnd 'im lyin' int middle o' t'street
bruised an' battered from t'tramplin' feet.
Ee'd crawled aht from some gutter
an' them cries tha' ee did utter
almost like a knife through butter
cut mi quick an' deep.

'Is broken wings ah tried to treat
gently praying that ee'd be reyt.
But when 'is cry became a stutter
t'world rolled dahn its shutters
an' rahnd mi someone muttered:
" 'is prospects ain't 'alf bleak".

An' that poor lost little 'eap
ah cradled but coun't weep,
til mi arms discerned a flutter.
So in mi chest ee'll see the summer
from that 'ollow haven like no other
where ee can safely sleep.

— The End —