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Raghu Menon Apr 2017
The early days of April
Have started resembling
Those of May and June
For a coastal city like Pondy

It is too dry and hot
It is driving humid
It is too nasty
and....

this pattern is going to stay..
Pondy is the short name for Pondicherry, India. The  weather pattern is changing fast and what are we going to do about this?
Violet Rose Mar 2017
In an airplane on a rainy Tuesday night, you were sitting next to me
I was wearing ripped up tights and stolen jewelry
You took my hand and leaned into me, I saw a lady walk by
She had dark lipstick and green smokey eyes
She was walking fast with her high heeled shoes, slipping off a ring
She threw it down and I heard her say, "I'll never miss a thing."
"Ladies and gentlemen, fasten your seats,"
I run my fingers through your hair, blonde, silk, and soft
I hear the boy behind me, breathing hard, trembling knees
I said "Honey, lean back and close your eyes, listen to the machine sing."
You were falling asleep, I watched the city streets diminish as we flew into the darkening sky and mesmerizing lights
The city was my kingdom and the clouds were my throne
I can be your queen, we'll rule heaven till it falls
Soaring grey machines and ocean's eyes, to the gods' great home
Open up the gates and you can save us all
Listen to the machines sing
The sky will set you free
insomniatrical Mar 2017
I arrive at your doorstep, flowers in hand,
To surprise you on this beautiful day in June.
Your birthday, and the perfect day to take you out,
Could there be nothing more excellent than this?

I ring your doorbell and stand there for a minute,
And then you open the door,
Swollen eyes and a tearstained face.
Darling what's the matter?

I try to console you,
But you only push me away.
Saying that you are sorry.
Whatever you've done, why should I be mad at you?

I attempt to hold you ,
And then you begin to scream
At the top of your lungs.
How long did you say it was since?

I am confused now,
If you say that you eat double now,
And that you and I brought life here,
Then why should you be sad?

I do not understand,
And you begin crying again.
'It is the product of another man!'
And now I wonder why?

I understand now,
And I am frozen dead in my tracks,
I drop the flowers and walk out the door
Do I dare look back?

I can hear you crying behind me and I drop to my knees in your front yard.
For hours I sit as your wails die down,
You bring out a beer for me and a soda for yourself.
And I ask you 'how long?'

You reply with 'only a few weeks'
And to follow I ask who.
Somber, you cannot remember,
Only that you were not willing and could not recall much.

We gaze unto the stars and what a whirlwind these hours have been,
Conversing until dawn.
And everything remains calm as I carry you back inside,
Sleeping in my arms.

On your bed I lay you,
And beside you I stay until you are deep in slumber,
Peaceful and the flowers now in a vase.

I touch your stomach and I can nearly feel the life within.
Life jumps beneath your closed eyelids.

Considering the circumstance, I cannot think of a better way to spend this June day.
I completely get that this is crap, but I wrote it while listening to music and got a little distracted. One of my friends just had an experience like this and I felt I needed to write about it. Thanks for getting two of my poems trending! It seems like they're always the uplifting ones, so I'll try to write more of them. BY THE WAY: If you want to request something for me to write about, feel free to do so. I will also follow back anyone who follows me.
JG Fletcher Jun 2016
A bed is where we lay
Pondering on the separation
And miles we would be apart

A cabin to ourselves
Tending to goats and chickens
Our body temperatures mixing
It won't happen this year

I had too many ties down here
Your family awaited you up north
You'll be returning soon

But that time to ourselves
And the responsibilities of mundane living
Hikes set with foresty fields
Golden glows, meters above sea level
Will not come to fruition this year

It's only been a day
And today I choked up
On the drive back home
You choked up on your way north

I'm decent at letters but this will do.
Te amo, amore
Written during a period of geological separation.
Renie Simone Nov 2016
She thinks he hung the moon.
A princess with her shining knight
In love, she fell, with him so soon.

As he proclaimed her beautiful, she swoons.
He stands in black; she walks in white
She thinks he hung the moon.

Pinot grigio in crystal poured by noon;
He reads to her in the yellow sunlight -
In love, she fell, with him so soon.

By night, he has her wrapped in a cocoon
Fire ablaze, she clenches his arms so tight
She thinks he hung the moon.

By morning, it’s their honeymoon
He kisses her hard with all his might
In love, she fell, with him so soon.

And then, by the end of June,
Inside her something stirs, a delight
She knows he hung the moon,
In love, she fell, strongly with him so soon.
A villanelle (also known as villanesque) is a nineteen-line poetic form consisting of five tercets followed by a quatrain. There are two refrains and two repeating rhymes, with the first and third line of the first tercet repeated alternately until the last stanza, which includes both repeated lines.
Autumn Sep 2016
He looked like a mixture
Of my last ex-boyfriend
And the boy that
Passed my senior year of
High school.

The perfect balance of
One of my mistakes
And
One of God's mistakes.

But the book he was reading screamed
Dan.
And I hadn't thought
About Dan since June
And I had hoped
To keep it that way.

But here I was opening the flood gates.
And I couldn't get a proper grasp on anything.
And my handwriting was so shaky it was almost illegible.
It was the end of May and
My love was in full bloom,
Lush and vibrant and full
Of musical moments of merriment,
Soft and comfortable and
Shining like the Northern Lights,
Beautiful and brash and
Everything I’d ever wanted.

June was taking a bow as
The curtain came to a close,
And my love grew gentler and
Sweeter, lovelier,
If you will,
But the roses wither, the music dies,
Light fades, and
My love was no more.
You can find more of my poetry at caitlincacciatore.wordpress.com
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