rose Apr 11

dried up skulls
with motionless eyes
pulled out of their sockets
lie about on forgotten land
as more are placed in
the jars, already filled with other
dusty, dirt covered eyeballs.
the strangely clean glass containers
in which the eyes are placed
stand on wood shelves,
calling,
              b e g g i n g,
to be set free
from the trap of the elderly,
blind man's clutches.

Fact: My sister is a wonderful human being.


After hearing about the tragedies happening around us, she decides to make paper stars. Lots and lots of stars.

She asks for empty bottles from the neighbours and her friends. She fills the bottles with these stars, folding away all her problems into glass bottles and jars of all shapes and sizes. After she fills the bottles and jars she hands them to her friends and family.

She gives one to me.

The paper stars in a rainbow pattern, they seem so full of wonder. Even if they are nothing more than paper encased in glass.

I take the glass jar and place it on the top shelf of my school locker. Reminding me that I can keep a piece of home and happiness close to me.

But it didn't last.

After I made some mistakes I didn't feel as though I wanted any happiness near me. I wanted to take every bit of hope and hide it away.

I took the jar of paper stars out of my locker 2 days ago.

Holding it close to my chest as I walked down the halls of my school.

My head hanging.
Eyes glued to the floor.

Walking away from everything.

But still sort of hopeful...
Wishing for a bit more optimism.

A shining star.

My sister will always be one of my biggest inspirations.

Today without question
I placed myself in a glass jar filled with you.
With no way of closing the jar I left the lid undone,
Already beginning to sink
I watched you ooze out, spilling against the sides.
I sat puzzled as I sunk to the bottom.
Reaching watching those familiar parts of you slip through my fingers.
There was no way I could recover the parts of you dripping to the outer bottom of the jar.
Never once did I think to breathe

Lindsay Leigh Feb 2016

Whimsical jars, glowing in the night.
Red is for anger,
Green is jealousy,
Blue is sadness.
Through a window, on a shelf,
In a cabin, in the woods.

A little girl, filling up,
From her toes to her chin.
Her lip quivers,
From the pain of a skinned knee,
From a joke that went too far.

Older now, stumbling out of bed at 3a.m,
Lying upon the floor,
As her chest heaves up and down.
Feeling like this is the end.

You can still find that cabin.
Stand up for yourself,
Ask for help, express your love.
Go ahead and twist the lids,
Let it out.

Karen Astrid Mar 2015

Never keep a jar of hearts
They can easily be used,
broken, and
discarded as one would please.

But instead keep a bottle of stars,
you can have as many as you wish,
pluck them at anytime, and
watch them shine brighter than the sun.

In this jar,
take a look please.
It's full of the tears
you caused me.

In this jar,
the crimson looks black.
It's full of the blood
you shed from my back.

In this jar,
the creature is alive.
It contains a demon,
and that demon shall thrive as long as you're here.

Blackbird Nov 2014

The stars are caught in his eyes tonight,
lets capture them in glass jars
and hang them on our peeling wall
as reminder and a promise
of the taste of your laughter and mine.
It hums in our mouths
as we travel the world together
within our thoughts and words
spreading the warmth that lingers at
the latest of hours of the darkest night.
So pick a jar, my love, and open it,
plant the seed of our hopes and dreams,
water it within your deepest soils,
an exposed soul to a harsh reality.
Lets watch it survive the elements
within its protective crown of thorns
and grow into something
truly extraordinary.

I collect the stars
and drop them into mason jars
that once were home to
my honeysuckle jam

Suns  Suns  Suns
One by One
I use their lantern's glow
to light up my universe

Ahhh . . . , the universe is black
without it's light
And I pause in my gathering
to comtemplate

The sky is blue
A sea of blue
as far as I can see
A sea of blue without mermaids

Oh , that feeling
as I turn into blue
A lingering
A disintegration

A chorus of crickets
are singing ,
"Here Comes the Sun King"
he is one and done

Yeah !
I need a jar
to start collecting
all the lightning bolts

Didn't anybody tell you
that touching a bolt of lightning
was so much hotter
than kissing the sun

pause for reflection . . . . .

I opened all my jars of restraint
and freed the Suns
They fled smiling
glowing with joy

I contemplated
smashing all my  jars
but I made scupernong
wine instead .

William A Poppen Aug 2014

Any brighter and
streams in the ditches
would look like Cuyahoga River
across Cleveland during the 1960's

There is no fire, only flies
who make bright their bellies
and flash for show like the perverts
in metropolitan inner city parks

Enticed to the flies, like moths
to the ceiling globes,
we gather jars and lids
with air holes hammered hard

No walking as we streak
along gravel roads built after WWII
when rationing was lifted
and road speeds jumped

Flies caught one by one
are smashed on white tees,
luminous signals for drivers
alert to the folly of our play

Our madness endures
until Ball  jars become
dim lanterns of joy for us and jail
for the bugs doomed


to die before daybreak
until swept from the garage
floor as we plot our assault
on airborne glimmers along
tonight's roadsides

unwritten Jun 2014

the way that alcohol
f  l  o  o  d  e  d
her veins
was almost like
the way in which
stars
flood a night sky.

and her eyes,
were black holes:
empty
and dark.

she left all her cares behind
a long time ago,
on a shelf
in a jar,
sitting right next to two others, labeled
"happiness"
and
"trust."

you might ask what happened to her love.

she left that with me,
and said,
"do with it what you wish,"
for she hadn't the trust
to expect me to keep it safe,
nor the happiness
to keep it for herself.

i never saw her again after that,
but i still have her love.

and to this day,
here it sits.

on a shelf,
in a jar,
right next to two others, labeled
"memories of you"
and
"hope for the future."

though i must say,
each of these jars
is growing emptier
each day.

(a.m.)

okay so i don't really know what inspired me to write this so yeah it's really random but i kinda like it.
Next page