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aj heatherly Nov 2016
the chains of our
youth did not exist
as you may recall;
decisions made by
the flip of a switch,
seconds before hands
rose towards the sky.

novel textures fit
between fingers; smooth,
crisp – colors perfected by the
unwieldy and wild.
all a respite for
a world upon which hands
lay straight lines.
see the photos: https://www.instagram.com/ajheatherly/

Copyright 2016 Anthony Heatherly
Mia Kay James Nov 2016
Person #1:
My oddness correlates with your oddness, and it's the most unusual sense of 'home' that I've ever felt.
Because of it, I've found myself quite content when we are in the same room together.
Saying my 'heart skips a beat' when you talk to me sounds so cliché,
but it seems to be true.
I wish I could tell you this in a way that wouldn't make you unsettled,
but alas,
my anxiety tells me you'll be uncomfortable with it no matter how I say it, so
I'll just write it here for now.

Person # 2:
You are a work of art;
are you aware of that?
Your whole aura leaves me
perplexed yet intrigued.
Somehow you are the definition of grace, but in the most unhinged way.
When you look at me,
I feel as though I matter in the world, though your whole personality screams anathema.
You are just a work of art,
and someday I hope to understand every part of you.
Because we are not very close,
it seems odd to tell you this face-to-face. That is why these words will just stay here for the time being.

Person # 3:
My God,
where did we go?
Things were so lovely back in the day,
but everything crumpled before our eyes. When I used to look at you,
I saw hope and someone worth my time. Now when I see you,
I honestly become nauseous.
I am well aware that some of it is my fault- but it's my fault because
I didn't stand up for myself sooner.
Why did it take so long for me to see
how shallow your thoughts really are?
All you were was collateral damage,
and after all this time,
it still affects me,
and it sickens me how
petty I appear to myself.
I don't tell you this because we don't speak, and I'd like to keep it that way.
Speaking is difficult for me. Writing isn't.
Aaron LaLux Nov 2016
I’ll never know why someone Loves me,
even if they tell me in their total truth,
it’s possible that even what they believe,
is not exactly totally true,

so I don’t question Love anymore,
I never ask a Lover if they Love me,
because honestly to me love is a verb,
it’s an action not a title,

when in Love,
or making Love,
or showing Love,
or being Love,
there is no time for questions,
why ruin bliss with curiousity,
why have to know why,
why not just accept and be,

see,

I’ll never know why someone loves me,
even if they tell me in their own total truth,
it’s possible that even what they believe,
is not exactly totally true,

through,
the Night Sky I fly,
on a flight from Athens to Cairo,
I have a date with the Pyramids,

was only in Athens for one night,
en route from Budapest,
and with all this traveling,
one might ask when do I rest,

yes,
good question,
a much better question,
than “Why does she love me?”,

Why does she love me?

I’d only just met her,
and we’d only just made love,
still she looks at me so deep,
that I swear to my soul it seems she speaks,

and I swear she’d leave,
not even pack a bag,
she would just runaway to the airport with me,
and fly away to whatever destination comes next,

in this case the Pyramids,
and I’d take her I really would,
because I’ve loved and lost enough to know,
that her Love for me is genuine forget the questions,

so I ask,
on the couch,
in that living room,
at that house in in Athens,

“Will you come with me to Egypt?”,

I pray She says yes,
and as I’m asking her that question in Athens,
on that layover to Cairo from Budapest,
her hands I’m graspin’ and my heart is hopin’,
I’m open,
as open as my invitation to her is,
and then She replies,
in words so plain and full of pain,

“I would love to come with you,
but I don’t have a passport.”

And then everything hits me instantly,
so many things become clear,
I see how wealthy I’ve become,
and I see my success through her despair,

there,
She is,
on that couch at her friends house,
with nowhere to go,

watching false idols on the internet,
fantasizing about people I’ve actually met,
and I realize in that moment,
that I’m as close asSshe’ll ever get to freedom,
I am what She wishes to be,
so of course She’d run away with me,
of course She’d explore the world and her dreams with me,
but she doesn’t even have a passport,

and I am at a loss for words,
for me She is just a layover,
no pun intended,
but I wrote it so I meant it,
and as amazing as she is,
she’s just a Greek girl,
an Athenian human being,
but not Athena and the days are over for the Byzantines,

so she’s stuck there,
in that city of Yesteryears,
flooded now with refugees,
while I’m about to catch a flight out of there,

and I want to say so much,
but sometimes there’s nothing to say,
sometimes there’s no more questions,
and all the answers are plain,

so I don’t ask a thing,
I just sit there with here and smoke,
I just bare witness to another girl’s empty dreams,
because dreams without reality are just hopes,

nope,

not going to question this,
I’m just going to write it all down,
as I fly south over the Mediterranean,
in time for a feast in Giza,

and I want to give here everything,
not just a passport but a path to freedom,
but I’m just a bad boy with a good heart,
so all I give her are these words in hopes she’ll read them,

Alexia,
I love you and I’m willing to be patient,
and when you if ever get your passport,
come find me for I’ll be here waiting,
and I can’t promise you I’ll be single,
in fact I can’t promise you a thing,
because an honest man makes no promises,
and the true embodiment of freedom wears no rings,

but I will be here,
and I will accept you in all your Midnight Lights,
and I won’t ask you any questions,
and I won’t lie to you and tell you everything’s going to be alright,

but I will accept you,
in all your Midnight Lights,
and we will just let what we don’t know rest,
and attribute those unknowns to the Mystery of Life,

and I,
I,
I,
I,

I’ll never know why someone loves me,
even if they tell me in their total truth,
it’s possible that even what they believe,
is not exactly totally true…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

The Holy Trilogy Vol. 1; Masonic Psalms from Holy Lands
available worldwide 11/11/16
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N3QR3E4
True Story?
Sarah Steck Nov 2016
Some times when I cannot sleep at night,
I imagine all the people of the world and
Wonder how they came to be.
You and I are on the same planet,
Spinning ever so closer to our deminse
And some times I wonder
How that came to be.
When the brain that is in my head
will not stop thinking,
I wonder existentially
About how things came to be.
Then I become very concious of the things
That never came to be, or in fact, cease to be.
The ones that lie in their graves
So cold and old and only bones.
And then I remember that one day,
That will be you and me.
Jellyfish Oct 2016
13
I'm wondering what will happen.
Vamika Sinha Sep 2016
their spines are straight -
two different trees in two different woods.
people like them are not meant
to come face to face.
is this the first time the distance between them is silent?
emptied of political din, hoarse
shouts of protest in market squares,
flags unfurled not in love for a country
but in hate for the other.

are enemies still enemies when they are of the same space?

the two girls recognize
that their hair curls in the same way.
they don't reach out to touch
but a curiosity forms a thread between them.
a thread. their fingers tingle, flutter
spooling and unspooling
this new connection, this new thread.
their eyes swing like pendulums.
how new, how strange to breathe
in air that is clean of artificial hate.

they are curious, spooling and unspooling.
what will happen to this thread?
for threads are too easy to break.
and each knows the power of governments,
their ability to dangle them
then break
and break and break.

the two girls wonder. the two girls stare.
they look. they look and look.

but their spines are straight -
two different trees in two different woods.
I wrote this poem in a class that has a heavy theatre component. The exercise was to watch two people stare at each for a couple of minutes, observe this interaction and write a scenario prompted by what we saw. I imagined the two girls I was observing as people from two politically opposed countries, meeting for the first time.
gabriela Sep 2016
let's talk about curiosity.* let's talk about gas burners and sidewalk cracks and how there are french towns in canada where people who don't know each other greet each other with a kiss on each cheek. this is a collection of all the things you knew would hurt and then did them anyways but made sure i was looking. like all those kisses and trips to petco and looking at me from the drivers side-- don't take your eyes off the road, you'll end up like the rest of them did. let me tell you about how my favorite sounds include the following: crickets, gas burners lighting, coffee brewing, and you on the last train to god knows where but the train is coming soon. i can hear the trembling carts on the railway and i can hear you and your voice sounds like getting drunk off wine and witty jokes, sounds like the mantra of "temptation" but in the most subtle way as if i'd mistake it for something holy just to see if you'd notice, sounds like an epiphany i've waited too long to hear, sounds like every "let's talk about it" and "you look alluring" and "i just couldn't help myself" put into one. but mostly. this is what you're going to have to sit down for, because i won't repeat it. does perpetual comfort exist at your train seat? even when i'm not there? does she sit next to you? or is all the spilled tea pooling at my feet explanation enough?  i won't repeat it. not even to the sidewalk cracks or the broken compasses or the birds or the torn down bus seat behind ours or into your voicemail. i won't. especially not into your voicemail. *because here it is:
he makes me feel a little too much
Selena Brianna Sep 2016
Note to self:
When you see a narrow path that looks rough and a field with an infinite amount of space, do not (under any circumstance) let temptation drive you away from the well-lit path, into some dimly lit field.
When you see love standing alone in the rain, bring it inside of your home.
Take it in and make it your own.
This is how you will not fail in letting your troubles slowly glide down a well to where they can no longer be seen.
If you do not see them then you will not know them like the back of your hand any longer.
The moment you adopt the kind of love that you once thought was far too distant and incredibly somber, you will find change, hiding in a corner waiting to be found.
Do not look past this change, it will run and hide somewhere else like a child, if you choose to deny its presence.
Listen to me when I say that change can come in different forms so you must not be so set in your ways that accepting something completely out of the ordinary, clouds your thoughts and puts you in some sort of a daze where you cannot take a breath and just accept things as they come to you.
Love and change will send you on your way to happiness, but you are going to hit some pebbles every now and then. This is how you grow.

Remember to always indulge in curiosity.

Let the ideas of the world flow all around your roots as you shed and become anew. You will always continue to grow, even on the days where your sun is not shining as bright or even at all. You must not let those days fade your love and make you seem like you have lost change forever.
Storms of rage are bound to pound at your door, especially whenever love has become you. In these times, stand with truth by your side, love in your heart, and mighty strength in your fists. When the door swings, you swing back.
This is how you live whenever you think you cannot live any longer.
This is how the fury of the darkness receives some of your light in order to create a balance in your life.
Note to self: You are not made to live easy, but it is true that you are made from the stars to create a significant mark in the universe and that is far more beautiful and far more important than the tiny troubles that you allowed once to wind around your body and pull you back into the ground from which you rose from long ago.
Finally, if you see hope fleeting high above you, climb a mountain to reach it. Do not ever let it go.
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