Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Emma 4d
white dove sheds feathers,

drifting through the silent dark,

contrast of lost wings.
Yitkbel Feb 10
So you stand in the seam of eternity
A dust in the wind, a speck of dream
What do you see
Oh what do you see
What do you see
At the edge of the sky
Why oh why, the gargantuan wings
Light and light, sweeping in
Stars and stars falling on the plains
Say dove dove, what are you
A harbinger of?

Oh love love, what else but love?
Didn't you see the tender leaves above
The cicadas call with voice so soft
Come with me, fly with the dove
Cause it's time and time and time
To escape time
From endless nights to endless light
To endless light!
Written: December 27, 2024
Emma Dec 2024
The dove lies split open, roadkill on black tar,

its white purity bleeding into the dark,

war has begun where peace once perched,

feathers soaked in oil, the asphalt’s cold hunger,

we name this wreckage progress, and drive on.
Feels like Friday today because it's a short week, tomorrow and Friday off...
Louis Espina Nov 2024
I can't shake off my feeling of the situation we're dealing with.
I can feel our time shatter with each tick of time.

I know it, I just know it.
Our time is fading apart,
losing what we built with our hearts.

Although, like a whispering dove,
you've found to see my heart and love.

I feel enlighten in some ways, in-which others I could not.
The clock continues to tick away as you smile beautifully.

I don't know if I should be anxious.
In the scenario where our facade will last away, you've left me with the only option to memorize the smile you put on my face.
Tyler Mar 2023
you are not under
my wing;    
    you are the wing.
                The wing in which
I fly!          
                                     you are            
                         my
                          beautiful
                          ­          sky.
no, my words                              
don't lie,                      


                     to see you again,
                                 I'd be happy enough
                                       to die.
Zywa Feb 2023
Finally the sun,

in the park a dove flies up --


freed from my pale skin.
After the winter / After the flood (of Noah's ark)

Poem "Een zondag, midden winter" - I ("A Sunday, in the middle of winter" - I, 2008, Lies Van Gasse)

Collection "Mist-I"
I S A A C Dec 2022
wounded by arrows
some missed but some hit
made my heart split
1 half hates, 1 half loves
1 black raven, 1 white dove
balance my mess
balance my loss
painting with the burgundy blood
Teyah Nichole Oct 2022
The handbook of my heart
Is one
For the birds,
As I am
Because I do
When there simply aren’t words.
So Sunday’s swan song
These little loaves
of love—
                    A bread of pray
                    For a safe journey home
                    My sweet turtle dove.
I've developed a habit of baking bread for the birds in my local park. I wrote this poem in honour of the new ritual that's become my raison d'état.
Noah James III Mar 2022
Blind love, gentle dove
I have my heart toward only you.
It beats furiously,
yearning for all of you.
How could I not see
the historical trauma you've had to flee?
You've arrived in front of me to just be,
Wise serpent beautifully.
May the dove have an option to choose.
To gently love or fly free.
A blind love flees; real love sees
your true self is no mystery.
2022 Hello Noah
Next page