Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I lie here completely open.
Drinking anything you pour in.
Anything is better than nothing.
I'm resting at the church steps every day.
Of a religion I hadn't heard of before.
The one that seems to fit me.
Right now that I learned the lessons that brought me to the next step.
Tomorrow I'm moving again...
Fheyra 3d
Kingdoms more,
Kingdoms sore
Passing the guards—
Like busting bars
Riddles compact— From the numbers,— Etched in Hollow Blocks
The fact of goners—
Hit the doors,— and punch the backs— In hied, to navigate the tracks—
To boost out— Parts.

Steep lands embed this twisted wanderer—
Aches the leaves and humps— Pushing to slouch
As I beg the ground— Not to pound—
For the planes to switch rounds.

Offsprings declined the measures— of luxuriant wands
The caverns feed the infant's boredom
Does hold the dome—
For loitering dogs
An insatiable ****—
That climbs for ripe fruits—
And wildly shouts— The beggar's principles
Here and there— Values— Then eats apples.

The weathering turned the rocks to dust
I must— crumple my tasks
Ah, the shallows..
On search for walloped hearts— Of shortened wage;— Of weak grips
Oh, I thirst for distance
Lay down barks! Lay down!
**** the shallows!
God, oh God,—
Is this the penalty for swindling clemency?—
Just crumbs..
Just crumbs..
For open mouths..
Oh, why they broke it?

Face down,— I crawl to this warmth
They fade..
So I kneel for a while— With curved points— To the unknown shore
What beauty relies from there?
I am bandaged by whipped words
Tell the pending men— Of my bare tense..

Sigh and sigh..
The sand and seaweeds
Caressing the voyager's rest
Refresh the bonds of East and West—
From the rise and fall— Of Sailors' flow
Collide the surfers— With tentacles of Immortality!
The commands of Tides—
Emerge a Hurricane— to blow its treasures— with the Strakes!

Alas, the whales jump—
Splashing with the crystals
I know now..
The vast,— This is my Wealth— My True Luxury
My Kingdom calls me..
I shall embrace my prize..
I swim the bottomless Abyss..

They landed on my spot—
With only slacks on sand—
And the surface reads—
"Hah, I'm Rich Now!"
There are outrageous things they do to feed themselves in scarcity. They have morals, but alongisde, they need to stay alive.
Sheila Greene May 19
Asked, questioned
can I love
My Amber

When, what
point I realized
I wanted

How, whence
genetic girl
so accepting be

Who, why
how could I not?

Judge, absolve
Don't cast stones
Everyone lives in glass houses.

© sd greene  7/6/17
We should all be so accepting of each other.
Iwan Glyn May 15
Blistered through

Waves of silver,
foxes crossing roads,
Passing through.

Excited toads.
Spalding Lovers.
Latch eyes;

Across wide open fields.
Barren desert towers,
are with them.

Open again,
Open again
lay out your map to me
unfolded, unrolled, exposed

i'll climb your high mountains
all the bumps, the rise and fall

i'll swim thru your ocean
thru quiescent bodies of water
thru unrelenting waves

my fingers, they'd venture
thru lands, unsullied
and thru those, besmirched
this is a metaphor comparing a map to the exploration of your partner's body and soul. but u can have your own interpretation. 😊
this is poetry, anyway.
aurelia May 6
and for so long I hid

                      my fingertips

                 stained by the ashes

           you hold them with yours, anyway.
Rhiannon Apr 30
To comprehend the idea of freedom,
Thrown around me in retort,
Goes along the path of reason,
The very thing that I was taught.

Unbeknownst to me this beginning,
Built up of loss and flames,
Brings me courage to carry on winning,
Lifes ever changing games.

I bring you chance of please and pardon,
A route not yet walked by,
Snakes slither round you in this garden,
But you do not flinch or cry.

From broken bones and desperate illusions,
To a place to rest and drink,
We open our minds to other conclusions,
The worlds bigger than we think.
Tony Tweedy Apr 29
I came upon the page and thought to write of who I am and who I was.
I thought it best to explain the things that people saw when they looked my way.
How I came to be what I see in my own reflection.
I gave benefit of doubt that they would or could then have some understanding. Perhaps naivety was my flaw?
The more I wrote the fewer looked.
Is it simply me or the openness that makes it so?
Is it what they see or the not wanting to really know?
Could it be that honesty is a frightening thing?
Am I better off to keep secrets and carry a facade?
Would then perhaps more be interested in who I am?
Would they then have the time to stop a while?
Or is it simply having seen they see no value?
And yet it is that I still need to fill the page...
and to hope someone will see me and stop a while.
To be noticed. To be known. To connect. Not by some pretence... but for who you are... not what they gain.
Michelle Apr 26
I lay,
Soft head in soft pillow.
Fabric against porcelain skin.
Heart spread wide open.
Gentle stream filled with warmth,
The hush of one thousand voices
in my mind,
And even through the ceiling is dark,
I can feel the gentle warmth of the
You know the feeling ;)
Next page