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when the earth settled
i would feel the horse  
by the side of empty roads
walking behind hills of weak grass
and every time i would catch a glimpse of its eyes
it would shatter into a million smooth pieces of metallic light
and as i looked through and into the empty spaces around it
it would return to form
as if nothing happened
like how a tyrant pretends to be an innocent man
for his infant daughter

holy Icelandic horse of heart
oh how you defy my line of sight
and catch off guard
my mental stride
on highways and on silky main roads
you make me paralysed
underneath those power lines
that the birds always seem to find
horses have beautiful eyes, i always think about them when i imagine visceral beauty, they are strong, beautiful creatures and i just love them. They are amazing creatures that are simply stunning to just gaze at for hours. Wanted to write a poem about one, was feeling inspired for some reason...
Sean Devlin Oct 26
I was sitting at my desk when a bird flies through the screen, straight at my face. I smack it away from me and it bounces off the wall and onto my bed where it starts flapping around. I look back to the window and see another bird heading straight for me, so I slide it shut just before its body slams into the glass and then flops to the garden bellow. The bird on the bed is tangled in my sheets and is madly trying to free itself.

From then on my life was madness. Birds were slamming into my house and trying to break in and **** me constantly. The police and then the FBI and soon all organizations were involved, trying to figure out what was drawing these murderous animals to me. At first they had moved me around the state, then the country, yet no matter where I went it made no difference.  Day in and day out birds would pile up outside wherever I was 'hiding', killing themselves from slamming into the buildings. Eventually they brought me deep into a mountain but even still, this didn’t slow them down. As the weeks passed it was obvious that soon there would be no birds left on the planet. Winged demons from all over the world were flying to wherever I happened to be, all bent on trying to **** me. So many birds slammed into that mountainside that it changed the way it looked.

Once all the birds had died I was finally able to leave the mountain and live a relatively normal life, though quite a few people were upset about the situation. I was reminded constantly of what happened and the world felt different for a while, quieter, and cleaner. You wouldn’t think so but living in a city without any pigeons or bird **** makes quite a difference!

Eventually I settled into a career and had children and forgot all about it, as my days are now preoccupied with thoughts of suicide.
marianne Oct 25
When yes is a gift
wrapped in love wrapped in
reason wrapped
in daydream wrapped in
self doubt wrapped
in pain wrapped in    
it is likely no, wrapped
in bitterness

When no is a gift
wrapped in love wrapped in
insight wrapped    
in waking wrapped in
bloom wrapped
in shelter wrapped in
truth spoken—
it is yes,
Because saying your truth is always better than not.
Izzy Aghahowa Oct 22
i went on a hunt
as i dreamt of a song
and of words that took me away
into a body
that felt airwaves unknown

that made dreams my mind
could only create through daydreams
that played like heartbreak
on lonely Friday nights and on fragile Sunday

where it felt like the world stood still
and i existed on another plane
where i could create
unparalleled beauty
Ikaw ang iniisip bago pumikit
Kaya pati sa panaginip ika’y sumisilip
Ang hirap palang umibig
Yung di lumilipas ang araw na hindi ka naiisip
Kaya natutulala nalang bigla sa gilid
At iniisip na maging tayo kahit lamang sa panaginip
Merwin Nikad Oct 16
No one
Would think less of you
If you did not know
He cries every night
For the universe rests in his hands
The sounds and colors
The people the feelings
So many images all right there
In the palm of his hands
Yet no words do it justice
He can try
But he only feels failure
He can see it all in a second
Its all so real
He can almost touch it
In his mind
He practices
Holding an apple in his hand
He turns it green
And blue
He gives it wings
Throwing it
With all his force
All his anger
Every bit of firey passion be has
He throws it
And watches it float down golden hills
Into a chasam
Then gliding up mountain winds
Meeting each cloud
With the kiss
Only an apple could give
Sweet and sharp
Crisp, clean and pure
Despite all this
Despite seeing the apple
And its winged journey
All he feels is failure
He has failed to truly show you
The beauty of the apples colors
The shine of the golden fields
The drop of the chasam
And the rise of the mountains
The glorius meeting
Of apple and cloud
A sight deserving of scripture
But a sight only he can see
No one would blame you
If you did not know
He cries every night
I have constant intense daydreams and being unable to express these images i see through visual art feels quite painful
But i try my best with my words
As I lay... ever so awake
Hours long before the sun ascents
In bed with you is where I want to be
Watch you sleep and smile at the thought
That here, my dear is where I want to be
Baby, even though you’ll never know
The daydream of this - imagined scene

As hour of the bright draws near
I’ll drift further from the truth of you
Into rain and melancholy shades of blue
Makeup of my fake placed smile
Gives way through my dappled mind
The sun is peeking through the cracks
As rays of light eliminate obscurity of
My self delusion thoughts...
Saw my ex the other day and my thoughts of “what if” came to play...
Rose Brown Sep 28
I dreamt up a world,
Full of bright lights and warm nights.
Beacons amongst blue oceans and green fields.
I dream of you, stranger.
I dream of the day you will hold me in painted hands and smear your love down my body.
I would be so young- so impossible- but still waiting for you by the beach.
If I pour my future away waiting to be whisked into my fairy tale,
You would never even know.
I have only seen you through glass, through bright blinking lights and colourful screams.
You say you always fall in love, I need it to be me next time.

This dream carries on, and I fall into my routine of boredom and heavy eyes before I see you.
The blinding purple, the glowing blue under desert skies, the neon pink that lights up my heart.
Yet I am just a schoolgirl, staring at cloudy skies in the early morning, imagining my impossible world where all I want comes to be.
The pain carries on, and you with it.
I fell in love with someone I will never meet a while ago.
Madisen Kuhn Sep 18
i could be that girl
whose voice is low and melodic
and coats your mouth with
acacia honey
whose eyes are the color
and depth of
whose presence is thick like
new york summers
rosy like
los angeles in early spring
if i braid flowers into my hair
if i write enough poems
if i learn to show the skin of my essence
but remain an abyss—
i will stop making art
when i become it
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