Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Caitlin Roberts Dec 2020
Pieces of paranoia
Placed properly,
in parts of my brain

We're all the same

Noises ,are noted as loud
Not , nothing or quiet ;
Like a race car
Driving on a highway

You can't act calm
Nor contently
Mostly on crack ,
You're crazy

It's an escape from events
And/or our ethnicity
To be or not to be just
Another soul

It's bonkers our minds ,
Blasts , such wild
Imagination beyond our

A plant so potent
Rich in poison
It breaks away
The pain

Masks the broken
And enhances the

We're all the same.
Hemang Dani Jul 2020
Me, my wife and our married life

I got married in 2003
Life was young and free
I was 26
and I took the risk

I belong to a joint family
she grew in a nuclear family
Our thoughts were a mismatch
conversations were out of catch

She liked to have an open talk
I was a reserved lot
Her expectations were different
my ideologies were repellent

she was a career woman
I an ambitious man
I persuaded on my own business
her career was left in a mess  

slowly I started understanding
life started turning
she became my good friend
our conversations are in blend

Now our marriage is in teen
Life looks all young and green
With my kids, my dear
Thank you God, my eyes in tear.

Hemang Dani
I penned this poem on completion of 16 years if my marriage. It is one of the prized gift for my wife and me.
nick armbrister May 2020

90 degrees today
Crazy mood & happy
Ready to test out my brand new Audi
Down this bumpy road

The best time's right now
German made quality car
Aircon & tunes are on
You smile & we are complete.
Mayara Giorno May 2020
Preachers in another storm

‘STAY’ whispers Mother

Followed by another joint

hands are met

and with him I crash

My bloodstained shadow


thrashed onto the walls

Cray-Cray Calling

Dos Tres – Another! Better!

Quatro Cinco – What a disaster!

T’was never my intention

But I succeed at my own failures

for there has always been a reward after my tormented failure.


But You can’t say I left you empty handed

you can’t say I didn’t offer you all I had

I just left

for I found better.

I know – What a ***!
Bardo Feb 2020
All I wanted to do
Was go to the Moon
It's where they all said, it was at
"Why, it was amazing up there!"
It was the place to go
The place to be
You just had to go there
It just had to be seen.

So! So I went to the Moon
And they all smiled at me
And nodded their heads
"Isn't it beautiful ?", they all said
Yes, I replied, it's... it's beautiful
It's just like... like a great big
A great big...... Quarry!!!
Lots of rocks and shale and dust and

About as empty as my soul
And empty as yours as well I fear.


(Maybe I could set up a hamburger
   stall there
Sell Moonburgers and nice crispy
   Saturn onion rings
At least least then they'd be filled with something).
I was reading somewhere where some celebrities wanted to be the first to book their flights to go to the moon. Someone was planning one day to have a commercial route to the Moon. Now I'm a big Sci-fi fan (what would have become of us without Captain Kirk & Mr. Spock when we were growing up). But I wouldn't cross the road to go to the moon LOL.
A bone meets another bone
And you have a joint !
Joints are allright !
Cartilage !
Without them you couldn't possibly dance !
Imagine only your sacrum and your ilium
and no sacro-iliac joint
And no innominate bones
Imagine just a second a pelvis without coccyx
And your seven cervical
Your twelve thoracic
And your five lumbar vertebrae
Hanging loose !
How could you possibly swing your pelvis
From one side to the other
Without your pelvic floor ?
No more grand plié
No more passé développé à la seconde
No more attitude en avant on pointe
Farewell penché
Farewell attitude derrière !
See what I mean !
That's why I always say
I'd rather be with no bone
No skull no heart
Ï 'd rather be a hurricane
Wind has no skeleton
Wind needs no joint
Wind goes naked
No shoes, no underwear
And despite of all that
Wind is a ballet dancer, a danseur étoile
With no dimples in the back.
Wind can lie supine and stand upright
Feet parallel, legs stretched
Wind has no greater nor lesser trochanter
Wind has no right gluteus maximus muscle
No feet flexed, no ****** femoris muscle
Wind never gets pinched, stuck nor jammed
Wind is constant ricochet, yo-yo, meanders
Gulf Stream !
Wind is a catwalk model
Dancing its swinging walk
The wind whistling, through the trees,
Your face tingling, in the sun beams,
The glimmer of raindrops, on wildflowers,
Beautiful clouds, filling the empty hours,
Grains of sand, trickling down,
to the bottom of the glass,
The scratch of the lighter, as you light your smoke,
and prepare to pass,
The longing desire, for the next inhale,
Keep the lighter ready, if the joint is stale,
Simple pleasures, fulfilling empty desire,
Twinkling eyes, gaze at the fire,
The weight has lifted,
it’s never been so light,
Another deep breath,
watch the joint glow bright,
The air has never, smelled so sweet,
This pine forest, is your new retreat,
Steady yourself, at the base of a tree,
For the first time, you are free.
"Grains of sand trickling down, to the bottom of the glass" the "glass" is an hourglass referencing to time which is mentioned more than one in this poem. It is a play on how we all are so worried about time and it going by too fast or too slow, but with one cloudy inhale we can stop worrying about it all together, and truly appreciate the little things. Little things like the sound of wind, the smell of trees, the glimmer of raindrops on flower petals.
Kellin Sep 2018
But find no comfort
in its feathers and patchwork.
despite the wine and rich
food, breaking down into calories,
i feel cold, way deep inside,
and it’s the kind of cold
that can’t be fought

with Hollandaise or alcohol
or a pile of quilts. i wish i had
a joint. a big, fat, stinky j to slide
me into sleep. but no, all i
can do is lie here, brain
turning summersaults.
it’s nights

these when memories
stir, whipping themselves
into stiff peaks of pain. here
comes one now, materializing
like Daddy did that night.
the night he came to
me, crossed
the final line.
Next page