Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
daycrow Sep 2020
silver fingers, golden toes
copper wire between my teeth
it shocks, but
i suppose
it itches more,
like tears in your eyes, or dust in your nose
november rises
and though fall is still falling
and desert sands shift slow,
it's getting cold
(and old)
sorry for what i said when i was lonely
Even the shade of my hair changes
Margaret Jean Nov 2019
Like tremulous waves of copper, the sun rises on your face
In the early morning peace
The birds, awakening, sing veraciously to one another, enveloped
In the ambivalence of the falling colors
Blue, yellow, orange, red, and black, all mesh together
In an embossed dew on your cheek
As you part your lips,
Inhaling the fresh taste of the morning air

Belied, you exhale,

Morgan Alexander Sep 2019
Blued, nickel reflecting light,
Shining on the Reaper.
Frosted steel
Longing to swallow
A half-dozen biscuits

1 part Copper,
1 part brass,
2 parts lead,
1 part saltpeter,
1 part charcoal,
1 part sulfur,

The recipe for the dough.

Once masticated
in jaws of tungsten
It spits the metal bolus,
And gives new name to grim.
G Rose Apr 2019
You are a lady of Autumn;
the girl with chestnut hair and
copper eyes
drowned in honey.
Cameron Alix Mar 2019
Faith is a golden coil
That fits so greatly in the binding
Of texts that
Dictate a non-universal
Faith is a silver coil
That wraps around you nicely
When times are hard and
Faith is a copper coil,
Cheap, commonly used and
Slithers, a bronze snaking cloud
Seeping quickly into
Permeable minds
Faith is an aluminum coil,
The easy way out.
Steals from your conscious
What can be found in
Faith is essential
Needed to man
And to man armies
Unable to feel soft,
Cotton-ball faith

Cameron Bell, Copyright © 2019
Feedback, please! I'm trying to develop my own style and eventually want to independently publish my own book. I think that humans have an innate need for a sense of deity; it's a neural pattern that has circulated throughout civilizations and we all still grapple with it individually.
A little copper penny
Lying alone on the sidewalk

Rained on, stepped on, walked right by

No one cares about a penny
What could it possibly buy?
Lynn Dec 2018
Hands covered in copper,
we kissed
down by the staircase
near period 5th.
You held my waist
all thoughts wilted away
hands covered in copper
we kissed the bad memories away.
i had my first kiss the other day
sadgirl Nov 2017
it is not a knife
when you gut the fish,
it's your words.
you live in a cabin,
and when you leave the cabin

everything else becomes
the facade of the forest.
my roots are here, beneath
your words, beneath the wet earth,
i am a tree growing here,

spreading my branches
like a dancer,
i am grateful
for the way you **** me,
i am grateful for the way

i die like a fish,
flopping and gasping
for air. i wait for the fire
to come, it comes ever

and when it comes
i know the prayers
you whisper;

the cabin never
falls, the cabin never
and the river
*never runs dry
Sharon Talbot Sep 2017

Even in my long sleep,
I dreamed of this.
A waking by strangers
A grasping of my wrist
And I wrench it back from them!

My dreams beneath the ice
Were warm, in summer vales,
Where children played
Under my watch, old but hale.
An easy thing, my guard was then.

I tend sore limbs as supper warms,
And aching joints inflamed,
And muscles tough as ibex horn;
For a while I can be lame.
And see my copper ax in the red-gold flame.

I dream of how it came to me,
After vanquishing a headsman.
Intruders fell before me!
And I earned this talisman.
Weapon, scepter, power of my clan!

Then I was sent across the mountain,
A lone journey I knew well.
To trade with kinsmen in a the northern glen,
With gifts, arrow shafts and tales to tell,
Never guessing betrayal that walked behind.

Alone upon the highest peak
I ate my last meal by the fire.
To me the gods seemed trying to speak,
As men I knew climbed higher.
We had words, but they were my kin!

In my long sleep I wonder why
These false friends turned to hate.
I’d watched over them, yet they cried
That my rule was done, and it was too late,
So I turned from them and faced my doom.

I crossed the last protruding rock
And now felt safe from them.
But then a blow, beneath my heart: a shock!
I fell in a soft, snowy glen,
And then a dull pain in my skull…and black.

Beneath me, I can feel the ax;
They’d never take that from me!
Nor my arrows, quivers and packs;
And risk the fury of the gods.
They’d taken my power and left a naked soul.

Five-thousand years I spent beneath the frost,
Until I was found and freed.
My scattered ions watched, angry and lost.
They dragged my body from its bed
And my soul from another life.

Now part of me lies in a crypt
Another frozen tomb.
If only I hadn’t run and slipped,
All those ages ago,
I would now lie in sacred ground,
Back in the earth to which all are bound.
Based on the 5,000 year-old, frozen body of a Neolithic man, called  Ötzi, resting under a glacier on the Austrian/Italian border. He has been widely studied and they theorize that he came from a transitional community at the base of the Alps in Italy, who were early farmers but also hunter-gatherers. When his stomach was finally autopsied, they found a meal of grain, mutton and greens. He was about 45 years old when he was most likely killed by an arrow in the back along with a blow to the head. He fell and bled to death between two large rocks, which kept his body safe from the moving glacier. Two hikers found him and assumed he was a recent ****** victim. The latter is true. His body is now kept in a temperature controlled refrigerator, taken out only briefly for various studies.
Next page