Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
annh Apr 2021
Frequently, I discover words with hidden meaning, shining like coins in a handful of fluff, apple seeds and other down-the-back-of-the-sofa leavings. Some are too precious to share and I secrete them away. Others I spend cheaply on rigged slot machine verbiage. Mostly they sit waiting to be written usefully. Adding insight, lending moment to my day.


Foraging amongst the dahlias
For Cinderella’s lost slipper,
I am Barbie magic made manifest,
I am Germaine (sodding) Greer’s antifem,
I am Super Mum with gumboots on.


The best nonsense is always spoken in the middle of the afternoon while heading north on a train bound for a smallish beige town, and so it was that the occupants of second-class carriage BG1754 found themselves gripped by a kind of eloquent hysteria as they rattled around the final bend in the tracks before the steep descent to the weatherboard station at Claggy Peat.
‘The lampshade on my head is for my bright ideas. I won't be able to convey them until Monday, when my curtain gets out of the dry cleaners.’
- Bauvard, Some Inspiration for the Overenthusiastic
nicaila Feb 2021
When the clock tick-tocks
It's time to get out of the box
Just as the rooster crows
Gotta make some toasts

When the sun greets the lands
I'll warm your hands
Hold it tightly as possible
Chuckling, hearing your stomach grumble

We'll spend the whole antemeridian
Blissfully, with no plans
Sipping tea with our favorite cups
No distance-no gaps

i ask my classmate to give me topic. she said 'time' so here goes
Remus Johnson Nov 2020
I want to sleep with you

Not in a ****** way, it doesn’t even have to be in a literal way

In a way, I want to be your bed. That one place that is just for you

I want to be what you come home to for comfort, for safety

In another way, I just want to be closer to you

To be so intimate and trusted by you that I’m allowed to be by you even in your most vulnerable state

I’ll be your protection and you can be my comfort and home

So please, won’t you sleep with me?
Summer Oct 2020
Sweetness is —
the sugar cube that glitters
when sun ray kisses the crystalline surface
like a thousand sparkling dots;

It is the strawberries I savor
when you sat across me
smiling softly
and gave me the last one from your basket.

It is the bubbly feeling
when I gazed at you,
playing with our children —
sparks in your eyes,
a laugh leaping out of your throat.

It is the warm sensation
flooding my chest, and
filling every corner of my being,
whenever you tucked me into your arms,
and kissed away my tears,
telling me I am
the best thing that has ever happened to you.
something I wrote a long time ago, a rare, fluffy love poem I guess
Kitty Oct 2020
girls are made of fluff
fluff covered slug covered girl
when is the girl a girl
when she is the fluff on a slug on a girl?
out toward the west
there's a gathering of clouds
which look like fluff *****
Steve Page Mar 2020
Fluffy ain't easy
Fluffy ain't weak
Fluffy is tough
a close-knit physique
Just saw a story of a sheep who got lost in the wild.  After 6 years, growing 60 pounds of wool, it had seen off wolf attacks by having a too impenetrable wool coating.  Great design.
Tate Jan 2020
I've doubted your passion towards me in the past
my faith in the past
my faith in our permanence was dwindling fast
But as days go by,
you drift closer to me
and it's easier to see
how compassionate you truly can be
I'd don't want to have your babies
I'd don't want to get married
but I could see getting a dog with you
I found this poem. I wrote it this summer in a notebook I bought just to wrote it into. I loved that **** individual. But we have gone our own ways, and he never knew I wrote poems about things like this.
Serendipity Oct 2019
He smelled like
and fallen angel dust,

Thera Lance Aug 2019
Snow piles up against the walls, but thin clothes are all they wear
As the boy gardens within the greenhouses behind the school,
Red, bright tomatoes slipping out of his fingers, and popping into his mouth
That grins at the bursts of sweetness.
Inches from him, the man by one month pretends not to glance his way
Instead shifting through the bristling leaves to claim breakfast’s zucchini.

He would complain at the theft if the tomatoes weren’t everywhere
Making bland meals of packaged rice and canned beans a savory impossibility.
It isn’t like little indulgence will take away all of the red little briberies,
The secret keys to a reluctant community spreading its arms wide months after the pair stumbled in.

The man scowls, and the boy glances up
Not hiding his interest like his companion.
The solution to anger is always tomatoes,
So the next slip of fingers is against the man’s lips
As he bites down, the sweetness pops away mild irritation in the flavor of surprise.
Neither gives in to smiles, but their shoulders brush more than once as the tension seeps out with the heat into the snow.
I like tomatoes quite a bit, so of course there would eventually be a little cute moment with cherry tomatoes.
-This poem a part of the "Life Will Bloom in Our Shadows" poetry collection on Wattpad
Next page