Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Srishty Mittal Nov 2014
At the break of dawn,
I turn, mumble, wake and yawn;
And turn to see
You, in our blanket castle.

The dainty sunshine bathes your face;
Of your matted hair, the breeze makes a menace.
I play with shadows of you-
And them I hold captive, in our blanket castle.

Now, the garden swallows twitter on the sill
A familiar longing, in me they instill.
The pillow feathers, the tickling toes, the warm giggles-
I realize- are but memories of you- in our blanket castle.
Suggestions are welcome!
Poetic T Oct 2014
Angel you were once so
Pure,
On earth you looked
Over us all, but temptation
Was your downfall
*******
Crack,
Crystal,
Stardust,
Was your sinful choice,
It took you to the heavens
But with every comedown
The higher did you fall,
With every injection,  feathers did
Wilt,
Diminish,
Wither,
Till white turned black
Upon the wet mudded floor,
You were one of the many
Who had succumb to human
Desires,
Sins,
Pleasures,
That were the failings of
Mankind, but even the
Highest morals can falter
Before they fall,  
Angel upon high
The last feather did fall,
And in to the arm injected
Pure white heaven
That turned you angel of white wings,
To a ****** human how far did you fall..
kelia Sep 2014
after a drunken fifteen minute walk home
you discovered me in my bed
like dinosaur bones
dusted off the feathers and white house paint
we made love after two years
‘my god you’re a saint’
you tasted and felt as good as i’ve dreamed
your name on my breath,
you ripped all of my seams
morning light and we talked about being sad
put my hair behind my ear,
'sometimes loneliness isn’t that bad'
i don’t know if it will happen again
but i’m not ready to let our sweet rendezvous end
DAEJR Aug 2014
You see, I know this guy,
with bright and gentle eyes—
sunflowers against blue skies . . .
A true angel in disguise.

He’s known since before he could fly
that he wasn’t like the other guys,
or the him in their minds, that decoy,
that never dreams of kissing a boy
for the purest joy. . .

No, he’d have to strengthen those wings
not to tangle in the strings
that sting, and cling, and sling,
to save his prince—
his king.

A feathered, armored knight,
he soars with grace and might.
In a weary world of fright,
he’d invite any height –
loyal beyond first light.

And you see, there I was, drowned in muddy water,
with gills choked on death’s slobber,
****** by the wave’s merciless slaughter
of hope, that bled and foamed atop the marauder,
and lost like the sea king’s youngest daughter,
I, a merman bobbed below the knight’s shadow.

He saw the faintest blush
of my lost soul and rushed
to grace me from my grave, flushed
and bathed me amid the rainbows in the waterfall, hushed
my toxic tears, that cursed and gushed,
and pecked my lips, as sweetly as a thrush.

His feathers fluffed, my scales standing on edge.
I nested in the angel’s white down hedge
till my heart and soul was nursed to fledge.
Our skin taught with tingly warm bumps, an intimate pledge.
I a he fell in love with he a him, and love became our kedge.

So you see, while my worries ebb and flow like the moon’s tide,
bringing questions of where a bird and fish can reside,
I trust in him I can confide, never to hide, but cast my fears aside.
We’ve already broken the surface where the air and water collide,
we need not the world far and wide,
we need only to carry each other inside
our arms, and together glide,
feathers and scales side by side.
A tale of feathers and scales.
S Jul 2014
Feathers dance across my vision, and I want to gather them all up and store them inside of me.

Maybe they will make me float.
Poetic T Jul 2014
The thoughts crowd me
Scratch at my mind,
A thousand crows fly around
It rains black,
Feathers float down
In slow motion like snow
Each different, unique,
They continue to fall.
My mind confused the feathers
Bloat out light of thought
Confusion,
Disorientation,
Am I losing my mind
I see a mirror dive though
Serine,
Calm,
Like after a storm,
The thoughts that scratched
Now flown away,
All that is left is a single feather,
A reminder that thoughts
Can claw, scratch at your mind
Consume you in darkness,
But wash it away,
And all that is left is you and a clam mind.
Martin Narrod Jun 2014
Most peculiarly of most things was that I thought all of this very fishy, daudry, drab, and boresome. This is where I turn on the second table lamp...

In a muster I arrived to the home of my aunt, where at once she drew me into the back of the house, down a flight of stairs made of tusk and bone into a catacomb where she kept a alive collection of wooly mammoths. She said the upkeep wasn't awfully horrendous as she had an invisible backdrop which led to a lion, a witch, and a wardrobe sort of thing. I stood in the gangway behind 10 foot high thigh bones waiting for one of the monstrous red beasts to come greet me, but what arrived was a very large elephant with longer tusks than usual. None of the red sillyness which I had dreamt of seeing in my previous years.

She could see I was not that impressed, and so I was led to another part of her home. Around the corner walked in my uncle in is superb and luxurious dress, reminiscent of 18th century British military fatigues. He said, "I bought the E.T. ride from Universal Studios, but as bringing the whole ride to my home I had them adapt a more suitable version to fit the property. A hangar opened and inside there were four chariots of orange and blue, diamond shaped school buses with their undersides aimed at withholding a V-shaped street. Then in two and two single file order all the classmates of my K-12 years arrived and took seat into the strappings of this 'ride' we were to take. Music played, John Williams even was produced by hologram, and after the ups and downs for several minutes we arrived to what I thought would inevitably be the forest, but rather was what I perceived was a Finnish town. The chariot I was in was stuck in the street, mud, rain, and soot entrenched us. I unbuckled the polyester straps and when I stood I realized that though the seats had built in urinals and toilets they were utterly noiseome to the senses. I followed a local girl to a food mart where I asked how I could find where I was but no one spoke a drop of English.

I corraled the group and told them to wait for me. I followed this girl who seemed quite younger than I to a small apartment in the uppermost floor of a very unsturdy chapel-like home several suburban blocks from our ride. She immediately removed her pants and I saw with my very own eyes that she was hairless and nubile. She insisted that we have a ****, and after I caressed her and complained too that she was far too young, she insisted that the age of consent in Germany was actually 13 yet she was 16. I remember it clearly. The most gigantuous feelings of pleasure as I mended a studio closet for my dining room furniture inside her ripening channel. Eventually after an hour we finished, she offered me a towel and some biscuits, which I consumed joyously.

Upon leaving her home I remembered that she had said we were in Germany, and so I produced a measure of Deutsch that I had been saving in my repetoir for the right moment. As Finnish is not my strongest language I was pleased of this and became instantly popular among the other candidates of our journey. This  E.T. ride is far different than  I remember it having been. Moments later I awoke quickly, a tuft of her black hair on my eiderdown comforter and a veil of tears from the merriment of glee shrouded over my face. After I rolled and balled into the soft feathers of my bedding, I twisted myself again into a knot, and allowed myself to rejoin the soporific treatice I was aiming for.

This is now where I turn off both lamps and go on watching films of a similar style.

Wishing You The Very Best,

Sir Martin Narrod

I keep my family of conscience
I shred my folly of heir
In case of torment or fondness
I never wear underwear.
JoBe Arenas May 2014
A little bird told me
That one day I'll be
Free to fly
To touch the heavens

Another little bird told me
That I'll still be
Bound and caged
To dream of the sky

We are birds
Destined to fail or fly
Let not the sky be the limit
But the weight of feathers

Tell all the other birds
The wings of our destiny
just a random idea on people as birds
Next page