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Shofi Ahmed Jun 16
Leaning into the bud of the night
                      the moon is still wake
                           tonight sleep no one!

Ask me not why?
     Narrative is the tuberose's
                             and the fireflies'
                                    me too is wake!
s1mpl3po3t May 30
Out of an abundance of caution
We shelter in place,
And if you try to leave your house
You get sprayed with mace.

Active shooter situations
Only to discover that  nobody is home,
Locking down an entire neighborhood
Now that’s some crazy foam.

A lot of terms of our times
Are all about control,
Contain the population and the narrative
Then hide it in a hole.

We’re all in this together
If we each play our part,
That rarely works out……...
Because one bad apple
Can upset the apple cart.

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel
Yes, things are on the mend,
The narrative is under control
Until the last page; “The End”.
Kool-Aid and calculated risk taking,

A brisk walk on the mild side

Has left you wanting more.

The line is breaking,

But be careful what you fish for.

There’s a knock on the door

And it’s for you,

Yeah, so it’s for you.




I remember stepping into the brine

As you tip tapped the tick tock

To keep it in line.

It was running out of rhyme and time

Was set to trickling

And tickling from inside.




Doris day and Doris night!

The stars about won’t start a fight

If you talk to them like that,

My dear.

Celestial bodies are not fans

Of blood,

And blood breeds bad seeds

That shoot at the moon

Like thieves.




The gull are shook,

Rattling frigid looks,

And the crooks are creeping

Up the hall.

Oh, Doris,

I can see them all,

And they call like crows

In a catered carrion free for all.




As the sun fades

Into its aquatic grave,

I save a test from the ******* past

And, Doris,

You have loaned stones to my

House of glass.

You’ve crashed,

And you’ve bashed,

And you’ve lashed yourself

To a mast

That you aren’t willing to steer.

In this instance,

I can still hear the bruising pier,

Cheering and jeering,

Until it believed its last.
This is part one in a ten part narrative poem. The whole thing tells the story of some unidentified incident, a nasty time in an unknown person's life. Doris may be many things. Doris may be nothing.
PearPoetry Mar 19
I don’t think it was ever supposed to happen this way. We met at the same time as the world started to go insane.

I don’t remember giving you permission to rummage though my brain until you found the light and switched it off. You were never supposed to do that X, you were never supposed to light a fire inside my stomach. I am burning, I am burning, and I was never meant to be burnt. You went John Darrel on me, and now I don’t know where to hide. X, you were supposed to share the flowers in my garden, but I guess you never understood what that meant. It makes sense, because even when I was hungry, you took away the scraps. You found home in my sadness, and X you know that’s not right, you know.

X, I am burning, I am burning and you’re supposed to put me out, where is the hose X? Where is the extinguisher? Did you swallow all the water to quench your thirst, did you drain the dams into your blue water bottle for your walk back home? And leave me here, burning?

At this point, I’m unsure of what to think. I am scared of being this alone, yet I am more scared of being by your side and loosing you at the same time.

Is this who you are? Jumping into peoples arms until the weight has pushed them into the ground, stuck. I never saw you as an acrobat but it seems like you never want to come down and touch ground.

But X, love, you might jump fast, you might even learn how to fly. But fire spreads, and I am burning, and everyone knows what happens to a forest when the flint is hit – it becomes wildfire.
Extract from a my journal - Narrative approach which I really enjoy.
Jessica Mar 15
There’s nothing left here for me
Rose petals
Fall across my path
Crushed underfoot
My view
In sepia tones
An old song plays
It rattles
The passer-bys bones
And make believe smiles
As we cross
I walk through rice
Laid on the ground
Never seeing the groom
I turn around
Darkness cast across my eyes
And I’m sullen
Only the spent love left
Of the fallen
Angels
Who also ask me
When?
jia Mar 10
as mysterious as the moon
you're a moment that ends so soon
still waiting even at noon
in that summer at june

your shadow upon the night
blinded my very sight
and in return i gave my light
though i know its quite not right

in dim light they both embraced
like it's their last, like they're in haste
the moon which the light chased
in this moment, they both graced
lune et lumière
Austin Reed Feb 27
I walked past your old house.
I stared at the dark windows,
wishing I could turn back time.

Your bedroom light would flick on and I’d call you.
Asking you out for ice cream.
You’d run to the window and there I’d be.
You’d run out of that house all giddy like,
wearing an old flannel of mine.
We’d hold hands as we walked down the block.
You’d start to ramble on about nothing.
We’d admire our neighborhood
as the leaves rustle across the street.
admitting this was our favorite time of year.

You’d find us a table while I stood in line
I’d ask for two Oreo shakes.
Your eyes getting big when I brought them over.
We’d sip away and talk more about nothing
and I’d be so happy.

The night would get cooler
And we’d snuggle each other walking back.
Squeezing me tighter
the closer you were from home.
We’d stand under that light
in your front yard.
Saying nothing but
feeling everything.
Both tired and cold,
refusing to let go.

Tonight, I stood there again.
Crying,
begging to be that kid again.
Inspired By Kacey Johansing
“Let Me Walk Right In”
This wind whistles a sad song
As it rumbles through baron trees
No humans left to sing along
No animals left to enjoy her breeze

It just blows around in the dust
People destroyed themselves for greed
Mother Nature finally had enough
"They loved money more than me"

"Humans polluted my waters
They kept poisoning my air
I warned them over and over
But they just didn't seem to care"

She tried to comfort the wind
Who's moans fell upon no one's ears
The wind is crying and lonely
There's no people left to hear

Dear Mother tried hard to explain
But the wind just blew harder
Trying to drowned out all the pain
Not believing that life was over

"Who will I cool in the hot summer?
Why did you do this, Dear Mother?
Who will play with me in the winter?
My breath will never be felt by another"

The angry wind was weeping
As her tears flooded the land
"Dear Wind, they did it to themselves
It was all done by their own hand"

She knew mother's words were true
But her rain continued to flow
The sky had never glowed so blue
As the healing began to show

The smog cleared from the skies
As the earth was again turning green
The wind had no more reason to cry
While Mother Nature continued to clean

The wind still missed the wildlife
As polluted oceans were now pristine
This has happened before in time
When dinosaurs were roaming free

"New life will soon return again"
This is my promise to thee"
Mother told the excited wind
My words are true, just wait and see"

The wind howled in pure delight
"Mother,  will you have to do this again?"
Mother Nature just answered in a sigh
"It all depends on them, my dearest wind"


© 2021 Michael Messinger(All rights reserved)
Narrative Poetry
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