Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Seranaea Jones Nov 2020

A displacement exists,
yet specifics defy the
scope of my radar,

sensing amiss like a
fellow would perceive
an absent billfold or

the way a hen may
feel one egg less
in her nest.

A lack exists for detection,
whether it be far away
or way too close,

it's gravity pulling me
toward the last glimpse
of it before fading into black.

Not so obvious as a
matador might lose
his cape to the bull


somehow i just Know,
with question marks
drizzling about—

sweating beneath the
skeletal remains
of my umbrella...

s jones
© 2020

sorry about the note, it was a
story fragment pasted there
by mistake
ji Feb 2017
On the claw of daybreak is a bridge, they say
     that extends to an everlasting sunrise foray,

     where every morning glory is at the cliff—
     whether they're climbing or descending is a riff—

     of muddied quagmires where a slew
     of sunflowers that on the talons of radiance either died or grew.
SassyJ Mar 2016
A vacant elation evades
Lease of folded escapes
Throned with indecision

Stringed unmatched links
Short lived escapades rides
A honey, a cute,fille de joie

Mismatch patterns traced
Transcendence aides fade
The sunken days embrace

A song of love ever delayed
A search of magic evasive
Cherished moments destroy

Another brief scripted page
An eon touch dilutes in age
Adventures transpire space

A heartfelt continuum shakes
A novel paste in fined tastes
A long to prolong penmanship
We write short stories in life by having short lived experiences. To write a novel one needs a long-lived adventure.
Anthony Williams Jul 2014
You're the answer I hear
when learning misbehaves
friendship running off around hedges
with rounded edges
calling me to figure out the facts
behind neatly pruned leaves
learning what is covered
when they cease
to scatter and dodge

I follow the delectable hints
to where the giggles grow
louder now I'm led toward
your near indecent scent
the flowers in the borders
wriggle with unbound glee
whilst love hides with held breath
in hidden indents

you dare to press up close
against an idle post
where radiance warms
to a chance find in prospect
expectant that your dalliance
will escape my notice
but I see it blooming in pupils
where love's not faked

I find you on a hunch
in the midst of hesitations
when I tease the bush
apart like two explaining pages
opening answering lips
brimming with wild questions
each kiss a knowing release
to lush and flowing fields

that day that friendship faced
the truth of love's sweet tutelage
by Anthony Williams

— The End —