Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
My Haseena

late night
pillow fights
watching stars
airplane flights
Wow’ babe come see the morning clouds
With peaceful doves
Flying above
Wet kisses
Like a special dishes
Sweat on yo breast
Di* grew stronger
Felt the touch of your hand on my hair
And the other romancing my back
just me and you
After waiting for so long
Oh my gosh
Yo high heels tinkling my legs
Night gown wet
I’m ready and set
***** shaved clean, nuh hair.
My dear queen can I come in ?
No! Not what you think
I mean can I **** it ?
Let me give you the legendary of me
I love you phypsyyor
Bethie Nov 2018
I said this year I'm done with boys
I'm done with all this emo noise
And let's just say it worked quite well
But now it won't, as I will tell

I gave up all my childish loves
I set them free like they were doves
They flew away and left me here
I was content in this past year

The ones I liked became estranged
But now it seems the times have changed
For even as I left them be
They now come running up to ME

They cower under my commands
Do all my freaking dumb demands
I hate the every part of it
And now I think I'm going to quit

Before I go I have to say
If you want boys near you to beg
Just give up all your previous loves-
They'll fly right back like ****** doves
The irony isn't funny one bit
Faith Nov 2018
WE
It's hard to see
Goodness
It's easy to hear the
Bad
We each fight our own
Battles
But why don't we walk hand in
Hand
It seems like we only
Hurt
But there is so much
Love
The light is just inside
Us
And together we'll fly like
Doves
The waves
crash on
the shore
of the eyes,
I wished
to create
worlds with
my mind
that the
lips fail
to convey,
I observe
the drifting
journey,
as the mind
wanders to
the paintings
of metaphysic
nature, where
everlasting
stories are
found, as
I am lost
perpetually
in wonder,
on and on,
I will live
through
another,
as the dew
caressing
the endless
being of now,
the world I
had known
once cursed
me for being
a dreamer,
though I
feared not,
for the heart
of mine,
possessor
of truth,
was never
vulnerable,
tears created
the clouds
I held within
my chest,
where I
float
as the
wings of
thousand
white doves,
the cage has
fallen, I have
risen as the
one who
saw the
light in
others
when they
failed to
have seen
it within
their own
chests,
I am the
bringer
in the
garden
of words,
I am aware of
the unavowed
lost ways of
conversation,
where the
cherry
blossoms
seek the
surrender
of the leaves
within the
deepest parts
of the beautiful
mind, elusive
as the reflection,
wavering as a
chameleon,
even though,
the heaven in
my breath
will never
fade, as the
grace of the
delicate ones,
hidden to them
was the nature
of the imperfections,
forming something
so untouchably
incandescent,
I had seen
the truth,
and soon,
they shall
see it too,
I and them
shall walk
the earth,
soaring
from our
fingertips,
I will hope
they look to
the skies,
and find this
reminiscence,
where the
clouds
ripple,
angels
are near,
I will wish
for them
to see how
these words
I have written
are sacred,
for beauty
lies in
secrecy,
waiting
for you.
Feathers form to dust,
Its white now to a gray,
I wish I'd grown my trust,
Before it broke in days.
Peace flies past my windows,
What I wish I could've become,
Instead; I melted in my pillows,
And missed the migration of the Doves.
Soaring fragments to recovery,
Yet I clipped my wings,
Died in winter too suddenly,
I forgot how my ears would ring.
Don't confuse my plucked torture,
With choices led to this,
I couldn't choose; nor move further,
As I dropped towards the abyss.
Don't confuse my voice with pity,
As it folds under tormented sedation,
My feet seem to be slipping.....
What happened to the migration?
-----------------------------------
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!:)
I oddly enough did some research just for this poem, so the doves (and migration thing) would be somewhat accurate.
It's about a person who forgets happiness all their life, and the sadness takes over.
gabriela Jan 2014
death can be the happiest thing,
though not thought *** nor won
to drum the drums made for the king
and to listen to the doves

as I thought of death before I died
not once was it glad or glee
and most of us fear and dread that moment
our souls are finally free
Toni Lane Feb 2018
The doves, the doves
they fall from the heavens
for you, love

The doves, the doves
at your feet
they bow and kiss
your sores
heal your wounds

The doves, the doves
in your locks of brown and bark
they tangle
bring flowers for you
sprinkle their petals into your strands

The doves, the doves
they breathe your scent
lavender incense,
the first snow of winter,
trees and moss

The doves, the doves
lost in your eyes,
agleam, a striking color
mimicking the forests,  
soft,
kind

The doves, the doves
they melt
at the chime of your voice
you laugh
you sing
like jingling bells
riding the winds

The doves, the doves
they worship your compassion,
the way you ****** their necks
and kiss their beaks
with such ****** touches,
absolutely mesmerizing,
ruffling their feathers

The doves, the doves
will follow you
until their wings
no longer sprout feathers
they will raise generations
to fill their spaces
to continue their love
for as long as you live
they will love you
your children
and your children’s children

The doves, the doves
will cry tears
of sunflowers
when you pass
and will scorn the Gods
when they take you
from them.
A poem I wrote my partner for Valentine's day
Megan Parson Feb 2018
With a letter to my love,
Flies away my pet dove,
Unbiased by what it contains,
Or by the ink blots and stains,
Concerned only of her kin,
Lest she be doomed to a bin.

So is my lover and I,
As we stare up at the night sky,
No wall nor vault can keep us apart,
Live only to love, until you depart.

Live for me, you may say,
But not one day will I lay,
Alone sans your sweet embrace,
I, your steps shall retrace,
And live and love you till eternity,
Ends its days of bliss serenity.
Envisaging lovers in the 18th Century. Hope we all find our Romeos and Juliets, Happy Valentine's Day !!
Seema Aug 2017
Two grey spotted doves,
Pick on the sprinkled rice grains.
Splash and drink water,
Cool off on the water spurts.
Wild doves fly in everyday.

©sim
Tanka
5-7-5-7-7 syllables
Chris Neilson Apr 2017
A diminutive multi-talent
came to this world to rock it
from planet Paisley Park
a purple pocket rocket

A Hendrix-esque guitarist
his voice forever chimes
a colourful dancing maelstrom
his lyrics a sign o the times

Million selling songs given away
on any selected fun day
nothing compared to him
even on a Manic Monday

A deeply flawed genius
damaged by his childhood
the doves cried on that April day
when the world never understood

We hope he found peace at last
living on through spirituality
his music his life's legacy
still lives and breathes vitality
Close to a year since the passing of Prince. I was never actually his biggest fan but never questioned his talent
Next page