Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
svdgrl May 2019
Just a minute left before I should pinball out of my building doors
and speed over past the new high riser,
gust of wind pushing against my little body,
tiny amongst these buildings going up.
My eyes switch between the time and the streets,
My feet fall soft and I’m safe.
The trains not here yet and then it is,
and then I sit and I rip my book out of
my lunch bag, ticket tucked under my bookmark
In case the conductor don’t see me
I’ve been reading about the golden state killer.
Rye’s a five minute warning and then
I’m speeding out of another door down
the stairs past the elderly,
across one of the many ****** Port Chester
streets difficult to cross but I’m walking
my legs dart fast past the head shop and the bread shop
and my nose is filled with sweet and sour.
I walk faster- avoiding the CEO
he rides the same train and I don’t want to talk.
So I march forward and don’t look back.
I get closer and mentally flip off the line of five short men
catcalling me in Spanish, all the while peeking in to the brisa marina window
to see if there’s anything my herbivorous mouth could swallow,
but i don’t break my stride.
They’re practically a butcher anyway.
I climb the stairs to the entrance, stepping beyond the dead baby bird carcass
I was hoping some other animal would consume yesterday
and the avocado shell that would have been good to bury it with.
I try to shake the thought of impending doom as I swipe myself in
Still going as fast as i can so that I don’t have to hold the door open for the CEO
Call me petty, but I do enough of his bidding on a day to day
And I ascend to age 5 years for 10 hours.
And then I run home just to do it all over again the next morning.
Donward Bughaw Apr 2019
Anong galak sa mukha
ang masabitan ng gintong medalya
at mabigyan ng sertipiko
habang ang pangalan ay tinatawag
sa sira-sirang mikroponong ibig tumutol
sa pagkilala
ng mga huwad na gurong
karamihan ay alipin
nang bulok na sistema ng paaralang
pinanahanan ng mahika-
ng mga baboy at buwaya!


© 2019
Masarap mabuhay nang puno ng mga pagkilala. Subalit, deserve mo ba talaga? O isa na naman itong ilusyong bunga lamang ng mahika.
George Morales Mar 2019
It's 4:50pm.
The second hand ticks through the numbers.
Nobody stirs in the office.
Just heads behind computer screens.
I think about my daughter.
She must be starting to work up an appetite for dinner.
The manager sneaks out earlier than usual.
I think about my wife.
She's probably cooking up something delicious.
I stare at the screen. A new email.
The subject line becomes blurry as I stare back at the clock.
It's 4:51pm.
Allen James Mar 2019
I have been offered the position of a Poet,
In the office high above the fields
where my ripe and naked heart
has labored carelessly,
And the daily quotas of insecurity
were nowhere to be met.

I've worked hard for this promotion,
And even harder to decline it.
Juhlhaus Feb 2019
Outside two squirrels foraging
Inside one hundred and one keys tapping
Three buttons clicking and one wheel spinning
Eight hours a day sitting badly
In an ergonomic desk chair
Soft fingers tap on plastic and glass
Weak muscle memory of calluses and splinters
And sunburn blisters from another life
Outside the old prairie wind howls like a phantom
Lost in urban canyons buffets the panes
Drives the torrents of freezing rain
Hard droplets tap on metal and glass
While inside our high-rise terrariums we sit
Generating transient value that flits
Up into the clouds till whenever
You tap plastic to trade your invisible worth
For a hot meal in a disposable bowl
Ponder and sip in another life you could be
Spending all day in the freezing rain
Hunting squirrels for soup
A whimsical corollary to my previous poem, Soup for Squirrels.
Andrew Rueter Jan 2019
I’m starting employment
And ending enjoyment
To pay a boy’s rent
Despite annoyance

I’m a lowly novice
Taking the oath of office
With a loathing toxic
Making me noxious

My paperwork
Pays for dirt
Removing smirks
Where I lurk

Their affidavit
Clearly stated
I’d be slated
To be deflated
And degraded
While placated

It taunts me
With the daunting
And haunting
Task of bonding

Floor tiles
And files
Drain smiles
Until I’m defiled

In a complete trance
I stare at sterile plants
And dance a feral dance
With a domestication chance

The trite lights
Are quite bright
And smite kites
To fight flight

They know how to handle a vandal
Just make him wear sandals
To discourage scandals
And extinguish his candle

The timeless
Shineless
Sign says
Clear your table before you leave
To keep the cafeteria clean
So garbage remains unseen
In this horribly sanitized dream

I’d like coffee
But that’s not me
I’ve become Ghandi
A passive zombie

Eventually I figure let
Me have a cigarette
Waiting in the bigger net
Until the trigger sets

They steal my soul
Once I’m told
I’ll get gold
If I fold

Stuck in the clutch
Of a financial crutch
Without any touch
It becomes too much

The walls are caving in
This place I’m slaving in
To avoid my lazy kin
Becoming a crazy djinn
Conjuring sin
So evil wins

I can’t pass this test
At my desk
When the best
Bet on themselves
Putting products on shelves
While I’m stuck in this cell
Of an office hell
Due dates;
Schedules;
Deadlines;
Dates,
A revolving strain on time,
A resulting
Pressure
For proven effort;
Will
Our productivity
Decide
Our professional fate?
We look inward,
And contemplate,
And find
Our update
Is late
A M Ryder Dec 2018
We aren't on the playground anymore
There are new rules
We have to be mature but
Mustn't lose the spirit of childlike wonder
What is love anyways?
Maybe it's supposed to break all the rules
Life is short
When two people find each other
What should stand in their way?
I think we love who we love and
There just isn't a **** thing that can be done about it
Zywa Dec 2018
He is in the hallway. Shall I
touch him, let my fingers run

through his hair, play with his shirt
tickle his body, shall I

arouse him and give the finest?
Cheerfully I say good morning, walk on

close my door, my eyes, him
in my arms on the edge

of my bed, to feel
what I would do if he ever

should take the step to unfasten
hooks with me and
Collection “Webgarden”
Connor Nov 2018
The metro station caged the slumbering metropolis
From this dingy mid-March town fridged in January wind
A ******* clad explorer marches in mellow strides
All the way to you
To back the lover's whisper spoken by static selfies
With fleshy whiffs, a borrowed jacket and a gawky face
Blind to but maybe fiddly pepples on the ground.

Down at a backstreet diner, its locked out doorstep,
A hygge cover made for two,
Humming low is the city's nocturnal remains' dubstep
Coming from an illuminating exit,
Luring the busy hands and buckled excitement, whereto ----

Whereto the vacant main street glides them
With the at ease traffic,
Down loops of everextending branches
I followed you
To the roundabout between
two surrounding glassware towers
Where gleaming sparks ***** on each other's windows
Divining themselves by lighting up pavements, entrance signs
and glooming heavens.

Corridors, lawned with clutters from refurbishments,
Lead to glassrooms of suspended business meetings,
And that cozy cavern,
Where you flump into a swivel chair.
Your inhibited expression unwinds
As my curious caress explores
The damp torso slumping deeper into the pliable seat.
And a devoted twitch of ecstasy, blossom unexpectedly
On your face,
Which already shied itself away from its audience,
Doubtlessly, for way too many times ----
A candid sight I could only cache from you,
Because I intend to see it again, your effortless reaction.
The sarcoma-like lump left uncut at the bottom,
Wrinkled like wind waves in a Ukiyo-e drawing.
I scoop the saline ripple, so you can taste it beforehand.
Our bodies started gravitating
onto each other or all over the place.
And lips, they startlingly perched,
out of wills, like magnets
For the very first time.

I've been feeling patient.
And I love taking my time with you
Next page