Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Left To Rot Jun 10
I'm being slowly pulled away,
half unconscious, astray.
My morals converted to lust,
certainly lost in those lips,
on those hips, on those thrusts.
Drop by drop I fade,
reducted to dust,
your eyes on mine,
those sighs,
never out of my mind,
a ***** heavenly sight.
She pushed the last button through, her fingers dallying over her heavy wool coat before she swept her hair and tucked it under her collar.

She rapped on the door. Twice.

She brought her other hand behind her back, the one holding the humble bouquet of flowers, the small bunch purchased minutes before from the sidewalk vendor three stories below.

Does he even like flowers?

The door swung open. She smiled briefly, her gift coming round.

These are for you.

Her gray eyes flashed with delight as his hand took hold of them.

She dashed from the landing without another word.

Who are you? he called from the railing.

Only the echo of his voice returned from the stairwell, and another smile.
Moe Jan 11
A faint tiny tear
Can feel like a replacement arm
Leg or eye
Skye Jan 10
In the beginning, there was a box,
Filled with tiny wax figurines.
In it, there were me and you,
Eclectic velleities, forgotten dreams,
Sparks that lit the world alight.
Now your heart was content, but mine
Wanted more.
Flying becomes soaring,
Asking to imploring-
Reaching to seizing,
Sparkling to burning
Until all the stars in the night sky
Are gone
Until all the fire burns away our
Perfect world
I hold onto you tighter than I’ve ever had before,
Because
You’re the only thing
That I needed
Since the beginning.

Then your flame began quivering,
Perspiration dripping down
Your half-melting face, and I
Realise too late what I had done
And then suddenly
Without warning, without goodbye
You’re drowning within yourself,
And on impulse,
I fist my hand and crush your flame,
And it dies. You die.

I'm left kneeling
by a pool of you
by a pile of ashes,
and dancing smoke
back to where we started,
back to where we ended.
don't burn out
illume forever
◊ ◊ ◊
© Cori
John McCafferty Sep 2020
Our systems show myopic woes
Foresight floats instilled in days
Who gains the most from short term aims
So easy to consume at pace
Routine breaks what hunger takes
Dilated weight from piled plates
To run on empty drives our kind
Spurred on by impulse
Mind caked in space

Clear your clutter on our way
Can shortcuts passed inhibit growth
Will we endure effective change
Sustain slower long term flows
To enter a fairer age
Filled with wisdom of younger days
Which ambitions reign supreme
When the state of fullness is temporary
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Dante Rocío Jun 2020
In seclusion and focus
long enough to settle in,
every word or phrase
becomes an understatement
with a greater pause
and reflection to it,
whether we sense it
or not
Of hanging unfinished or dubious words
Dante Rocío Jun 2020
You shall know thereby
a word or message’s
been right
if your Bowel Heart
trembles at it
whilst Mind can’t wrap its head
around it
(pun intended,
as they say)
Hit the top notch
Dante Rocío Jun 2020
Words like
“Syria”,
“Arabia”
or
“Aleppo”
somehow as beautiful sound
like oil pastels
on beige
found
Quick call of Pastel Heart
rose Apr 2020
there are many sparks
that burn out way too easily

an interest I become obsessed with

it fills up my head
with thoughts
I haven't even thought through

it leads me to feel this massive pain,
guilt, and unrest

those emotions trap me
leaving me behind
to hold my head in my hands
cringing, and regretting
wondering
"why the hell did I do that?"
Mark Toney Dec 2019
Walk by
Wok buy
6/27/2018 - Poetry form: Footle - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
Next page