Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Yup, you red correctly,
     this noggin must go
     perhaps donated
     to the Salvation Army, or Good Will
cuz, said atrophied cranial
     horridly styled comfortably numb skull,
     the source of immeasurable

     beg hot ten woe, from dawn to dusk
     nothing boot eve ville
hollow cavity mainly comprised
     of wooly webbed weaving waste,
     uber sawdust, sans Schuylkill
     River effluvium and runoff rotten rill
hence, e'en a think tank

     designated as Abby Normal
     formerly atop a body named Phil
lip, or Wright winged Orville
one half brotherly duo,

     the other sibling Wilbur,
     whom both made a mill
yen legends getting airborne their lil
mechanical contraption

     atop Kitty Hawk,
     North Carolina with bi sic ****
mechanical aptitude,
     when born aloft **** Devil Hill

synonymous making fin hushed
     blue prints emulating
     flying fish, whose grill
like cartilage backbone

     precursor to Evil
Knievel, who soared
     on his motorcycle a devil
lush daring stuntman,

     whose helmeted crown
     full pursestrings muted cavil
ling critics with legitimate enterprise
     earning gobs of legal tender,

     whence aye aver
     his mugshot ought to appear
     on common denomination bill
and/or honoring throughout
     the entire month of April.
Amanda Kay Burke May 2018
I wish we lived closer
Talked more than we do
It is hard to find time
To call and speak with you

I am always pleased to hear your voice
It's not the words but the sound I enjoy
A symphony of unconditional love
Echoing comfort and joy

Our calls might be infrequent
Special for that reason
If you need a friend
I will answer any season

Whether you are angry or sad
I will listen with my open heart
I am only a phone call away
If we are near or far apart
For my big brother Michael.
index finger of left hand
     (likened to Michelangelo
meticulously chiseling away
     at marble block), this poe
whit attempts to coax (zealously
     tap into his latent indivisible quo
shunt, sans self imposed

     quotidian literary endeavor slow
lee witnessing, an emergent
     reasonably satisfactory, though
hooping unbeknownst readers
     (perchance even a scribe from Yugo
Slav via) will only resort
     to lard out positive unsolicited feedback,

yet this scrivener well aware
bluntness evokes
     fulfillment loud and clear
inflating jowly machismo thru ether
narcissist quintessential rabid glare
     unpretentious vain warbling yakking

     zither plucking boastful demonstrably
     fatuous haughtily immodest luminaire
dismissively smug,
     sans literary endeavor aye share
thus, tis one objective when attempting
     to corral rampant thoughts,

     (that charge hither and yon, to and fro)
     at pace of greased lightening tear
chasing hash-tagged elusive
     Smokey and the Bandit
imp posse sub bull
     back to the future of 1977 year  

temporarily abandoning awoke
motive, i.e. initial challenge,
     viz going for broke
to sweat blood and tears
     digging deep within noggin, or choke
myself if merely draw blanks

     versus (beginners blind luck), and evoke
accolades accidentally
     tapping into creative
     (qua literary) mother lode
     joining belle lettres authored folk,
whose metier comprises compendium

     of alphabetized words
     receiving surprising windfall
     asper pig in a poke,
novel idea after nostrils emit smoke
the amazing dragon
     within (sol fully bellows)  
     finding me to feign taking a smoke

aware fame and fortune,
     where a written best seller brings renown
can essentially only be verbalized
     as a pipe dream from this clown,
who best **** sitter
     living hard scrapple

     (scrabble playing) hand to mouth shuffling
     along (the littered boulevard
     of rejection slips)
     wearing out one after
     another of me buster brown

shoes, perhaps posthumously
     gleaning raving reviews,
where famous names
     amidst cadre (espousing
     wife fours smiting
     social injustices extant loose

zing potential harmonic convergence,
     whether gentiles or Jews
throughout all foursquare corners
     of the world wide web
an economic eclectic diaspora,
     where underbelly of civilization
     pay heaviest ****** dues!
Srijani Sarkar Apr 2018
What do you feel
after losing this particular battle?
Sitting in an empty farmland,
a speechless sky.
Get up now.
Home is far,
your mother is dead.
You only want water right now,
not love not memories.
In this moment
air is existing better than you
the horizon is more depressed than you because it knows home is beyond
and others are dying
others will die before you
Home is far
the distance is not the issue,
realisation of stars in a lonely night sky is.
Who wants to walk miles
after killing thousands of bad monsters in real life?
Home is far, I know.
Home is believable.
Home is the light you see
everytime you blink.
Allyssa Apr 2018
It’s been a while,
A long while,
Since I’ve said hello.
I’m sorry to disappoint,
I’m not making much of a point,
If the word is no.
it doesn’t make sense,
But you’ll get it,
If you even check and print.
I’m sorry I’ve disappeared,
A state not so near,
For you to see even me.
I stress over it,
The life you live,
The choices you make without me.
Don’t get me wrong,
I’ve waited long,
To hear your voice again.
I wish I could see you,
From a state so clear,
That I could hug you one last time.
I’m sorry I don’t make sense but I’m hurt you don’t need me anymore.
NURUL AMALIA Apr 2018
i never want to kiss the moon
even when i am falling in love with it
that light,
making me fall more deep
it is so far than i thought before
even we can not touch each other
can you see me from your height?
no, you can't recognise me
even you can't say hello to me
but I can see you
because you are the one
Alex Apr 2018
My arms are jello and my face is red,
I feel so weak and my legs are lead.
Because I've seen she's just walked in.
I can't explain- I can't even begin.

With eyes that sparkle like the moon,
She seems to come close much too soon.
I fluster and laugh and get all confused,
because with her I always lose.

I never know what to do,
Except to scrape the floor with my shoe.
What to do and what to say
To hide from her my ecstasy?

I love it when she's next to me.
Anything else I cannot see.
An invisible spotlight- and a wall
which is thick and impossibly tall.

I like her.
I'm sure.
I know it's true.
You know it, too.

But I can't tell her.
Not today, no sir.
I'm too afraid of denial
And to lose that beautiful smile.
So close but so far.
Gale L Mccoy Apr 2018
you messed up
you gave in
accept it
accept it
but stop it
please stop it
you wont ever forget this
itll be so clear to see forever on
the harder and father you go
Next page