Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kamblamian Oct 2016
Its what I want

To hide in darkness veil
Cloaked in this blanket
That has never felt more comfortable
And
Irresposible
As the choices that should not be
Made on this Day
Lost in a transition
Tiffany Moton Oct 2016
on October mornings
when the world outside my window
is lost in a pale fog
& faint white light slips between
the spaces in my blinds but spares
me, cloaked in shade & free
to sleep a little longer (if i could)

when the cozy scent of coffee
drifts upstairs, through the chilly air
& kisses me awake
how to savor a stillness so delicate?
threatened by little more
than the **** creaky floor

on October mornings
born mild & undisturbed
i tiptoe through the quiet
vacant rooms that smell of
spice & stale smoke
all is as i left it.
(draped in loneliness)

when i've accidentally made
one too many pancakes
& the wind's whistle haunts me like
a distant friendly ghost
it seems to always be
on these October mornings
that i wish you were here

the most
Breeze-Mist Sep 2016
Wakey wakey
Big mistakey
This is a direct quote from my friend, whom I am calling H.
Breeze-Mist Sep 2016
You know a day will
Be stranger than can be said
If, upon waking, you think
"Do I have a slinky on my head?"
b e mccomb Aug 2016
did you hear
the news?
they've
discontinued
mornings


now all we have
is nights
stretched out
too late and
the worst coffee
you've ever tasted.

(put on your
warpaint
or just your
eyeliner
nobody is actually
looking)


now we're all
s c r e a m i n g
before the sun
has even risen.

they've
discontinued
mornings

how does that
make you feel?


(it makes me feel
like absolute ****)


error
error
caffeine
not found

pile your
triangles and
terror into a
text box

the margins are
glaring
your coworkers
sleeping

error
error
**mornings are
discontinued
Copyright 7/24/16 by B. E. McComb
Anna Mosca May 2016


early morning
every one works

to make the land
more beautiful

sprinklers sing
water jumping

up in the air
birds grooming

their songs
elderly women

with rolls walking
their poodles

old pick up trucks
filled with new

flowers to plant
slowly driving by
www.annamosca.com

From the collection California Notebooks 01
jamie May 2016
I remember the mornings,
Where I'd wake early.

I remember the days,
Hot with the sun's rays.

I remember the evenings,
Catching fireflies in mason jars.

I remember the nights,
Crisp and clear. Stars shining beautifully.

Oh how I wish I can remember when I was happy.
When will I be able to go back to the simpler days?
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
A-Ooga Tioga
Sky, mountain and mist rise

with morning breath
It’s crisp until coffee goes in
but no bother for that
instead, searching for sun, kept out of sight
figuring which way is east
Which way is yonder?
still, more you might ponder

As you sink into the lap of Tioga valleys
cradled by ash and oaks
fields of daisy mixed with rye and wheat
spread at your feet
like  wedding dress of Mother Nature herself

She says softly:

“Pssst, hey you
Don’t put on those shoes
tiptoe way across my seedy crinolines
lie upon me
Sink in insubstantiality with me
as I draw
rays and beams, beyond
some twenty rolling hills

In our for all future time horizon
you may still be dreaming
indulge yourself in my verdant fantasies
**** up this morning with me

This is Appalachian reverie
hear me like little turkey gobbling
dance with doe and fawn
chase jackrabbit
round and round
Why, even the silos are singing
“Pour me a cup” ”
Written at Mikey's cabin in the Tioga Hills of Pennsylvania, near Mansfield. You'd really like it there. Anyone would.
Next page