Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
rowdy lee May 11
I'll look at a kid girl across the bar
and will fall in love with her -

what's that
in her eyes
*******
what's that? -

at that moment

there is a new order in the printer

and I have to make a drink
Butterfly Dec 2019
I want those late nights, staring at your ******* smile.
You're making me fall harder than the first time.

Whisper in my ear:
"I'll never lose you."
Iewh another love poem
lovelywildflower Oct 2019
god must have taken his time on you because he made you so ******* beautiful.
Muneer Nov 2017
Her worth is not defined by by wealth or fame
She is simply a priceless work of art
A beautiful masterpiece that leaves you captivated by it's beauty
A beauty brighter than the sun,
Lighting up everyone around her
The way her lips curve when she smiles
Leaves me tamed like a kitten
The sound of her voice ricochets inside my head
Like ripples in water, spreading through inside me
Her eyes, so captivating
Draws you into its abyss
Her hair, reflects the sun's light as if they were her own
This little witch has me spellbound from miles away
Resistance is futile
You will only be drawn further
By the time you realise
You have already fallen to far below that you can't see the light around you
Now my heart ticks like a clock
Tick tock tick tock it goes
Counting days instead of seconds
Till it goes back home, to her
So that it can shine in her light,
Feel her love coursing through its arteries
And beat to the melodies of her heartbeat again.
- ©M
kneedleknees Jul 2015
cankerous open mouths.
dead breath like exhaust.
this is your world,
you who would not have it.
pockmarked by age
and pockmarked by plague
and a palpitating heart.
repeating pleasure as if it were a litany.
a cowl to wrap yourself in
and create a new identity.
and it's the weight of your heart
that matters
no matter how small.
and with pooling abscesses
and with enough drained blood
you could fill a new world.
cd Mar 2015
the grapefruit i ate this morning was entirely too sweet.  there was too much sugar in the cells of its meat and each one hugged and dripped down my throat as if i were swallowing pieces of honeycomb minus the bees.  oddly enough, as i sit here recalling the events of the day, of my eating a grapefruit this morning that was entirely too sweet, entirely too sweet for its own good, might i add, i am met with the fear that my use of 'minus' in the context of this recollection conveys my intention in an improper, imprecise manner, for it was not used to suggest an elimination or a deletion of the bees, rather, a relocation of them to some other part of the body maybe, like the nose post a sneeze, or to a field somewhere else all together, existing as integral parts of a network of cells and cycles upon which life's delicate frame hinges upon.  i suppose it makes no difference where the bees relocated to in the larger context of my eating a grapefruit that was entirely too sweet this morning, but i feel obliged to address the matter nevertheless.
third piece inspired by the writing style of Ror Wolf....
Eric Nov 2014
I think I won't ever cry again
I've grown older, wiser, maybe a bit colder
Kid drama is all over
I already cried at all the real good stuff

Every time I'm proven wrong I can't help but think
   for just a second
How nice it is to feel so powerfully:
   succumb completely to rage
   give deep love over to deep loss
   take pride in having shame
   be brought to my knees in awe
or
pluck that ******* ******* nose hair
Ray Sep 2014
All I want to do is sit and write anything like before
cheesy romance ******* about how your touch makes me feel
or the way your eyes change from hazel to green
depending on how the sunlight hits it
but
nothings coming out
nothings making sense
everything you've done to me is too good for my words
too good for their ears
even though every ******* moment is engraved into my eyes
and replayed every second I catch my breath
or loose the butterflies.

Two hours I've sat perched on my bench,
my family waiting to drown out the inevitable
click clack of my typewriter
because with a smile like mine they know the writing never stops
but this time it never comes
you just have to experience it for yourself.

come sit in the booth with us at the bar
watch us nod and bob and weave to each others voices
or one anothers favourite songs played on cheap guitars
by singers that are sub par.
Experience whatever we should call this,
an amazing friendship with the added bonus of benefits
the beginning stages of what I hope isn't love but dare I deny it
the one person who might end up destroying me
but for now he's just the reason for my torturous
writers block.
Austin Heath Apr 2014
You were throwing up uncontrollably into the toilet,
and I cleaned up all the chunks of *****,
although it was mostly water, but bile now.
I've seen more sickness in the past week than I'd care for.
I panicked at the pharmacy while the pharmacist
shadily spoke over various aisles to me.
I sat on the tub while you threw up the medicine he recommended.
I sat there while you laid still at my feet.
I sat by your bed when you could make it back there.
I'm slowly going broke. I'm slowly going insane.
My head is in too many places to sleep next to
you tonight. So I'm here while you sleep.
You keep apologizing, and
I just don't know what to do
to make my head want to go to sleep too.
No rush of words.
No pearls of wisdom.
No moral to these stories.
Marly Apr 2014
"I am not as sincere or nice as I seem so yeah don't get on the wrong train because of me."
Foreshadowing, much?
Next page