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Payton Feb 2021
Rock n’ roll music, Folger’s, and paint-smeared hands.
Dresser drawers filled to the brim with undeveloped camera film.
Blue bonnets and overgrown grass, pecans and crunching fall leaves.
Dirt roads and river-rocks, typewriters, polaroid cameras, and feather-quill pens.
Those hand-me-down blue eyes and brown ones that are “sometimes hazel.”
Crystal clusters and Lord of the Rings.
Countless mosquito bites and play-pretend games in the clubhouse.
Early-birds and night-owls.
Trudy; and Randy Hayes.
“Don’t touch everything you see,” and “If you say you’re bored, I’ll find work for you to do.”
Sweet tea and okra and southern dishes blackened and drenched in cheese or gravy.
Grandma always burned everything to make sure it was fully cooked, and to her, it was never burned, just “well-done.”
Cigarettes and carpentry and cookbooks. Wild blackberries and birthday parties at the lake.
Sleeping in all day and staying up all night and procrastination.  
Shepherd's Pie, potatoes, and four-leaf clovers.
“Nil Desperandum. Never Despairing.”  
I’m from a whole house that eats eggs for breakfast, and I’m allergic to eggs.
And trees as tall as buildings and buildings as tall as trees.
“You should never take the lord’s name in vain,” and “Jesus loves you, so you should love others.”
Day-dreams and stargazing and thunderstorms.
“All or nothing,” and “There is no try, only do.”
Old family pictures in dust-glittered frames.
We are crystals. We have facets, each one makes us who we are.
With only one window of our lives to express, we’d merely be glass.
I am a part of each of these things just as much as they are each a part of me.
This poem was written in 2017.
Chad Young Sep 2020
I used to stay up all night in deep study,
but now my studying is slimmer because I've found more answers.

After an hour or two or rest there is a fresh
ground to plant myself in.

After two or three hours of gardening
in the fertile field, the crop is planted, and
the morning's work is done.

I now need to rest again for new fertile ground,
but also for the night
plants to sprout to cover my tracks.
Why do I sleep all day?
Vampirecadence May 2020
It doesn't feel what's real or unreal
once you lose the control of your breath,
It seems heavier everything inside
and no one to understand what it feels like,  
It's the real mess!
Just someone immersing you with its ******.
and you can't shout or speak out,
all you do is stare but no one look out
when you are trying to breathe,
but inside you are dead.
I wrote this at 3:09 AM. I love writing at night and that's when I feel more me and less the other me which I'm not. I feel peace within me. I had rough days where dark used to feel scary, now I'm loving night.
Sadie Grace Apr 2020
1am thoughts drive me outside to the stars
the wet grass and night breeze remind me
it's not a bad world
it's not a bad life
it's just a bad night to stargaze
clouds litter the sky,
but somehow stars still peek through
clouds roll on
and somehow they unsteady me too
I could lay here for hours
in the uneasy silence of the night
Mike A Eyslee Feb 2020
Every morning a beaming carmine penetrates my brain
unbeknownst to their perilous call
a smiling bird and a white heal all.

Violates me at my eyes
from green chasing lies
from wicked placed disguise.

Pencils of light at three trips
Here's the stalker of stalkers that haunt my pre dream routine.

Every evening a lustrous crimson punctures my lungs
unbeknownst to their unsafe swath
a quiet bird and a paper moth.

Vexes me at my eyes
from yellow following lies
from haughty placed disguise.

Pencils of light at three trips
Here's the lurker of lurkers that submerge my pre dream routine.

Every night a hazy velvet pierces my heart
unbeknownst to their loving provider
a dead bird and a snow drop spider.

Visits me at my eyes
from red moving lies
from stoic placed disguise.

Pencils of light at three trips
the finest sliver of silence you can imagine.
inspired by "All in green went my love riding" by e e cummings for the structure and "Design" by Robert Frost as evident by the allusions.
kaitlyn spence Oct 2019
vibrancy emits amongst the echoes of the night
as slumber casts itself on most these hours, absent light
while some lack productivity, with efforts turned to ruin
my product of activities proves grand by starry lumen
ideas are born, regrets are mourned, and midnight snacks consumed
to moonlit ante meridiem: my fondness, ever true.
Ritz Writes Mar 2019
There was an agony in my voice
Unheard rant and tirade against
The world that couldn't appreciate your sole identity.
Life as we know it!
Trembling in fear, braving the storm not to break down in tears.
When billows of sadness roll
Embracing the state of solitude, no one to call.
Behind the dark circle, hidden with a concealer
Bottled up paranoia and scars
Drowning in a sea of misery.
What could've been done to alleviate this malady
I wish I could crumble into pieces
As ashes of smoke, disappearing into a thin air.
Did I chose this melancholic trail
Unable to succumb myself to death.
A living dead
Leave me alone
I can't handle anymore pain.
allison Mar 2019
cant sleep because
im thinking I'll love you forever
but you can't say the same
because you loved me once
but never again.
just best friends
always & forever
and i guess that's okay.
good night
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