There is a glass box in the ocean
Invisible to the nautical eye

How it hides beneath the subtle waves
As the breakers and boats berate the tempest skies

For amidst the ocean of unending salt
Amidst the darkness of the currents below

There is only this
An ounce of freshwater in a box of glass

Unfound, both in and of itself
How it will ever preserve and still outlast

I'm tired.... (:

I never expected to be the woman cauled in grace,
the tall beauty who caught herself in movement
elegant enough to make her a force of nature.
I drift through life like a leaf on water,
aimless and carefree. Words of ruth
tumble from me like a wolf howling in vain,
desperate to be heard. My youth has stained
the derailed girl I was when I was old.
Those crumbling bones were wrapped up
in an unexpected life - bones growing
into momentous trees, dancing
among the clouds like skyscrapers. I am
the floating girl wearing red in a sea
of black, melding and merging with the world
like the ever-changing depth of dappling light.
I am the beauty in a whirlpool of chaos, floating
out into the ocean, washing out to sea,
leaving only my handprints in the dust
and a train of thought woven
with the realisation of who I truly am.

~~ Somewhere along the line I stopped being the storm and became the blue of the sky. ~~

Your hurricane heart blew into my life at an outrageous speed.

At the rate of 26 years per kiss, you blasted through my walls
and wiped out all previous heartaches
I'd ever sought shelter from.

Your wind uprooted all I have known as typical of boys
and planted the seeds of men
to show me that to love is to have true strength.

My shingles were weathered, claimed to be made
to withstand someone like you,
but at the first sight of you I ripped the nails out myself.

After a long, dreadful winter
filled with sadness and despair,
it is quite nice to see the sun
and have it kiss your cheek
once more.
And awaking every morning
to the sound of small birds
singing out to you
has a way of putting a smile
to your face.
And the feeling of fresh air
filling your lungs with each breath
let's you know that good times
are coming your way.

originally written 1/25/17
Hac Himel Apr 22

I have been out of this website
To get some focus on my goal
Now I have returned to this platform
The look is changed, with the same soul
*
I love to spend my time on this club,
Full of really special bunch of poem makers
You can now start a conversation with anyone
This poem will help you as the ice breakers

I like to know your comments.

A poet's supposed to only post poetry
     If I try to do anything different under a pseudonym
They'd know it's me
               They're not too dim
  To shine a light on similarity
             Between two varying laugh tracks despite all the hilarity
        Been getting down to brass tax with a microscope
       I could read the fine print even if both my eyes were closed
     So tie the rope tightly around your own necks
                          As I work far outside of my trajectory from how I make the bow flex
         If I was Archie mixed with Cupid
          I would
    Follow an arrows arc like an archery marksman whose targets are Betty and Veronica's beating hearts
    And when they get hit,
        They both fall pretty hard
      And meet me in my back yard where I get their backs archin'
         Point is, I've got precision aim
    When I'm shooting for emotions
            Make you never feel a thing
      Make you clear minded and focused
             Let you all in on my pain
   Have you buzzin' like a locust

Raghu Menon Apr 11

Some times
Some thoughts
Are like as if
It had occurred to us
Before... Forcing us
To think
Haven't I had this before?
Aren't they familiar?


Or
Is life a repeating
Cycle of thoughts
Some forgotten
Some so fresh
Some having
A bit of taste as we
Have tasted before
Some times
Some where
in the past


Or
in any other lives??

Jay Lewis Apr 6

Can we be strangers again?
Can we start over?
Let me introduce myself perhaps not so awkward this time.
We can laugh and talk and cry at the same things.
And relearn what we already know.
And create new memories.
And give each other
A second chance.
A chance to forgive, forget.
And a chance to love again.

Where I met allure
she was my craft inured  

that round my futon
when her neck was born

ready her an all nighter
with vita relinquished

uproariously keen in swelter
but really resurrected platitude

a scorcher for sure
and dreams whetted with desire

while attire was crumpling
here round my dumpling

the weather most attested her rap
that I'd relish her bare

much than sympathy again
always tile her spree.

Zan Balmore Mar 28

That feel when
re-burn fills bowl
Queen/King
out of gold
No clean smoke
No hairy rip
I scavenge
for oasis in glass
ash trays
Expect the soft
kiss and faint
sex sweat of old dreams
but the smoke
blows out and once
more the world shifts
For free

...
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