Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Viktoriia May 13
a paradigm of solitude,
a monotone reprise.
she's desperate for a little break
to stop and shut her eyes.
a symphony of tragedy,
a prayer in disguise.
she walks her path so stoically,
but all their hymns are lies.
a disbelieving audience,
a concert of goodbyes.
she's desperate for a little break
to stop and shut her eyes.
Stalwart Dull Apr 20
They're attractive to see
long, thin, sharp as nails
they grow slow like snails
its life is one long jubilee

Butterfly is not a meal
but when they flew in your stomach, it felt surreal
is something that you cannot steal
a hunger that is hard to fulfill

As when thorns and butterflies collide,
You wouldn't even know how to survive
Thorns will **** you for a while
The worst feeling that you cannot hide

Thorns will pierce you and the pain is mild
Butterflies will die, even if they go wild.
ChinHooi Ng Apr 6
A girl with a crush
every pure thought in her heart
she buries deep
until she misses
the warmth of spring
the romance in the summer
and the fall season comes
only to realize that love is gone
the days
when she didn't have the courage
to say
the words
bloom in regret
black blue grenade
shrapnel wound
seems an eternity
when she carefully peels back memories
wrapped so tightly in time
she starts to see
a scintilla
pink and odd
a clutch of stars
dark red and blinking
every bit as pellucid
as the teardrop coalesced
in her eyes.
Bambi Apr 1
You were my favourite smell for a while.
I inhaled you like you were the nicotine I so desperately needed to stay sane.
I came close to your body to smell the summer breeze, to feel like I am once again a free child walking along the shore.

On a sad afternoon, I spend the whole day browsing the drugstore, searching for a perfume that would even slightly resemble you. I can’t find it.
The next day, I smell something rotten. Something must have turned sour.
I turn around to see what it is. It was you.
Caosín Dec 2023
My heart is made of bone
and lungs are made of pomegranates
My eyes are dull with stars
And my mouth is rough as apricots.
Angela Rose Nov 2023
Being the sun in your misery is dimming me
It’s parasitic
I used to see us symbiotically, I used to think we balanced each others sadness to reach mutual happiness
I was incorrect

Being the blood to your vampiric nature is draining me
It’s bloodsucking
I used to see us as co-unit, I used to think we were an equal part to each others madness and in turn we could reach sanity
I was mistaken

Being the floating device to your endless ocean is sinking me
It’s so heavy
I used to see us a lifeboat, I used to think we were carrying each other through the sea to reach the shore
You’re drowning me
Odd Odyssey Poet Sep 2023
Can I ask for a little more action,
with out really asking
Sounds a bit passive, so I try to
ask in a past tense
And this time around really *****,
so turn around so I can pass the time
******* on your front

"Okay," that last line was kind of dull,
and no excuse for me being so blunt
But could I still ***** a little thought,
and plant a bit of that seed, and see how that story grows,
And take you on a tasty journey; you'll be my main course

"*******," wait no, it's actually a golf course;
looking for a perfect stroke to get it into that hole
My little birdie; let's play, as we pave our way
into a concrete conversation before we go

Lead the way, and I'll chase your ideas like a plan in motion
Press into you, to prove yourself in an interview,
and I'm the one doing all of the reporting
As they say love can sometimes feel like it's getting old,
but I'm sorry, that's still old news to me

So we could chain each other up, but you're free
to do whatever you want to me
I'll be your memory form bed,
and remember all of the best positions
And you could leave the rest to me, and if I did it wrong,
you wouldn't waste your time to lie to me

I know, every expression of your feelings; reading
your body language- as you're my beautiful love poem
And in a spoken word of desire; what's there more of me
to say; to any kind of performance leaving a bang,
Let's make a little slam poetry

It's in this next stanza, I'll tell you of how
I'll dig into you; and thankfully it won't get so boring
As I'm feeling like a power tool, drilling a little pleasure,
to an eventual release, and to ease off the day's pressure

I turn you on; no not as a light, but let me see the light
in your eyes, taken so lightly by other guys
They couldn't see that glorious sight, that acts so bright,
a movie star, as all of the stars start to align tonight

"I'll give it to you straight,"
put a little heavy ecstasy, as you had so long wait
Put this love in a few shreds; a few times I had to grate,
yet it somehow ends up so **** great
I'm just trying to score, and if it feels extra great,
feel free to rate

I just need a place to begin, and the final
destination is how you and I will feel at the very end.
ShFR Jun 2013
I wasn't always good with words
until I learn they can be manipulated
stripped for parts,
reworded and planted as if sod,
sound the same,
rebuilt like a cars:
thesauruses are essentially junk yards,
they allow you to play tennis with your mind
they can replace signs,
are intimidated by the weak
yet rejoiced by the blind,
and --
in the end
I know words can do more than just rhyme
they chime in during chimes and relate simple parking tickets
to fines,
politicians use them as smoke screens
with words
I can metaphorically call them ninja’s
the way they evade questions and attack with their sharp tongues
so I won
well -- I'm winning the battle with words,
just know I can curse you now
without saying a curse
© 2013 by S Fraz All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of S Fraz
Next page