Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dess Ander Nov 2017
Serene
Looking at you takes me back
To that paradisal garden
Where we used to pick roses

Roses are the colour of blood.

Petal by petal, life fell apart
Until there was nothing
But a thorny stem

No one wants to help you
When you are the cause of scars

So you pretend
Pretend like nothing happened
Pretend that you have no negative emotions
Pretend that Eden hasn't turned to Hell...

Until the only evidence of your soul
Lies in your eyes behind each iris
Morgan Mercury Nov 2017
It's the morning once again.
I feel the sun on my skin as it shines in.
The sound of today's birds are chirping inside my head.
I can feel your breath on my neck.
I soak in the moment,
because the world is so quiet at this time.
We're the only one's alive right now,
I'm so glad you're mine.

So open up the windows as it starts to rain.
Let the rain calm you.
Let my touch soothe you.
No need to think about the day and the hours,
just let them linger.
Let your stress melt in our heat,
as we lay next to each other
filling all the gaps.
I can not tell a lie,
this is my paradise.
Angela Rose Nov 2017
I want to write about the sunset, how the rays hit the ocean and it was so beautiful that I could almost shed a tear
But all that I can write about is how handsome you looked with your back to me as you stared at that same exact sunset
And all I can write about is how much I loved you at that exact moment and the sun could have fallen down and I probably would not have noticed

I want to write about how melancholy the rainstorms make me and how I get so lonely and depressed each and every time the sky cries
But all I can write about is how your eyes are the same exact color as the night sky right before a rain storm in the middle of July
And all I can write about is even when the sky was having a mental breakdown full of rain all I could think about was how content I was being wrapped in your embrace

I want to write about how genuinely happy and bright I feel once the Birds of Paradise start to bloom in the spring
But all I can write about is how they are the flower I could see from the porch swing at my mother's house where we talked about our future children
And all I can write about is how much I miss talking to you at four in the morning when the rest of the world was asleep, everyone except for us and those Birds of Paradise

I want to write about nature and beauty and the weather and happiness and I don't want to keep writing about you
But it's you.
It's never anyone or anything else, but you
Brent Kincaid Nov 2017
I saw a man fishing today
Trying to catch is daily meal.
He pulled up a triggerfish
But I was the one to squeal!
“How wonderful!” I said to him
“You like have?” I heard him ask.
I said, “No, I am not the kind
Trained to the fish cleaning task.

“But what about your family?”
I asked him as he toiled.
“I gonna catch another one!
Nothin’ gonna be spoiled.
I go fish every single day
Right here from the sea.
Kauai treats us very nice
She always good to me.”

He said he would clean it
And then he did just that,
Right **** then and there,
While I just watched and sat.
And I took that fish home
To share with my family.
It was a real Hawaiian miracle,
Or seemed that way to me.

It amazes me at this stage,
After living in such big cities,
That I felt little aloha there,
And that is a major pity.
For here in these islands
The concept of love and sharing
Replaced what I saw mainland side,
Hostility and suspicious staring.

People seem happier here
Now I’ve been here fifteen years.
Maybe it’s the lovely weather
Or maybe my lack of fear
That someone will make me
Move away from paradise.
Nobody better try it because
I won’t think that’s very nice.
CallMeVenus Oct 2017
You told me all poetry is about *** or God
Because you know that I have a map of your body well memorized in my mind
And I touch your hands like I'm turning the pages of a Bible
A bookmark I forgot about from the chapter in my life when I believed without reservations
But I love you like a sinner because it seems
you are my last chance of paradise
Artyprose Oct 2017
She’s the angel
I never asked for
But here she is anyway.
Being so effortlessly angelic
Making me believe love
was never been tragic
And while my mortal life
is firmly stock on earth
Her soul is so perfect
Like she’s a magic hurled
by the hidden paradise
and the mysterious universe.
Seema Sep 2017
A place to spend your holiday
A place of peace and getaway
Pack your bags and grab a flight
For Fiji is awaiting your atmost sight
Early sunrise, cool sea breeze
Waterfall wonders, you'll surely freeze
Hikes like no other, activities you'll enjoy
No dangers, no creatures no forest toy
No roaring lions, no slithering snakes
No bears of any kind that awakes
Just wild birds chattering their plea
"Come on humans, why do you flee"
People friendly of all races
Sometimes its hard to tell their origin by faces
Food of great delicacy on a bed of island chill
You'll not be disappointed when you'll get your bill
White sandy beaches open to all
Bonfire activities often on a roll
Special island dances and firewalking by natives
So much to do, plan your island motives
Just now I see a big cruise ship docked at sea
Why not come down and enjoy
A small piece of heaven, my Fiji can be...


©sim
A Henslo Sep 2017
What antiquated tongue as such
Hissed Eden's serpent to get in touch?
Angelic would probably not be true
Possibly Arabic or perhaps Hebrew
But almost certainly it wasn't Dutch

What dikes would Noah's land comprise
If these polder pros had been about
And the deluge struck fields fitted out
With some deft water controlling device?
Would we have preserved our paradise?
First illustrated publication Dec. 6, 2016 www.facebook.com/a.henslo.poetry/posts/1797306240533810
sophia sacal Sep 2017
Your voice was the poetry
My ears were longing to hear,
The soft-spoken words my heart
Ached to read.

It was the lullaby
That sang me to sleep,
The sound that carried me
Into the idyllic grounds of dreams.
Kurt Carman Sep 2017
As I drifted off last evening, I had no idea I’d see you again.
But there you were in my dream and it was wonderful to see you again my friend.
You made your way through this celestial space to meet me at the roily water’s edge,
And a smile came upon your face and it illuminated the skies.
….”and in the distance, I could hear Wolfgangs “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” playing”

“How are you John?” I asked.
“I couldn’t be better Kurt because this Kingdom is so special” he replied.
And we tarried there awhile and shared memories with one another,
We reminisced of our childhood, growing up, and our happiest moments in life.
….“I felt as though something in my life had prepared me for this time with him”

As the clouds sped above us, you told me how much you missed your wife and children,
and how much you looked forward to helping them cross this river one day.
More than anything I needed John's help with this question... "If you see my Mom, would you tell her I love her and that I miss her every day?”
He assured me he would do his best to give her the message.
…”And just then, a quote appeared and it read “the smallest deed is better than the greatest intention”

And as I stood on one side of the river and you the other,
I flashed John the live long and prosper gesture and he to me.
He began playing one of my favorites on his Sax, and he disappeared into the clouds above me.
I awoke, still hearing his parting words resonating in my head….
**….Don’t cry because I’m gone, smile because I live on”
This poem is about a dream I had last evening. Its written exactly how it was presented. John died last year at 66 and honestly I have not thought about him. We were good friends in the 60's and then faded apart to raise our families. I love you John and I know this is a message from you.
Next page