Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
neth jones Feb 2022
attendance                                                  
fumb­ling my entrance               array                                      
passionately late            i pull off my tie          
               and crashing      here without apology
                 all-ready     a crowd sweated room
                                  low ceiling   candy glass munching underfoot          
the senses are rushed upon   fuming                                          
                ­          lit up and strobing    with the chaotic humour                
                                     and tumorous smells
furious ingestion                                            
     swellings       and releases    
  pelling and girling     with the dances         
hectic music    making hero's of uz all
a steaming sot lady  lands before me laughing
        she climbs me  till her bare feet find ground
      naked   from the waist up  
her dress has fallen  into a trampled magpie tail      
         doughy  features unfocused
    my heart is gurning with ruckus      
                installed with an addicts engine      
   it caves and puffs for attention
   these are my people  
these are my people                                                
                                now that they're reached their peak
of ******* inebriation          
     and raving chorus
i am drawn imediate     into the density
Anais Vionet Feb 2022
It’s finally Friday night
there’s not a professor in sight.

If you think I’m happy - you’re right!

My homework assignment is light,
I just have an essay to write.

We and our sister suite will unite,
dragging a couch over, so the seating is right.

We’ll binge on Ozark most of the night,
‘cause we’re all Justin Bateman acolytes.

Pizza and ice cream will be a highlight,
in an evening of lazy delights.

I wish you could join us on-site,
but a quarantine prevents the invite.
Hus J Jan 2022
Do you fancy
A lollipop feast
Salivary glands over productive

Just one day of sweetness
Wouldn’t ruin much perhaps

After party was tasteful
Lingering longer than it should

Picking up a lollipop after some time
Unwrapping took forever
Hesitated to shove right into
The colour appear rather surreal
Was it used to be?

Second thoughts always ****
Stood still with a unwrapped lollipop
Thinking if We should
Nigdaw Dec 2021
somewhere there's a party
you're not invited to
but the little red dress
will gate-crash the venue
desperately trying to cover
more than it reveals
it will have a better time
than ever you can imagine
until disappointment reveals
it clothes a mere mortal
not some Hellenic goddess
a mirage of alcohol
a signal of distress
somewhere there's a party
you shouldn't be invited to
full of danger, anguish
and an end to innocence
Anais Vionet Dec 2021
I’m spending the Christmas holiday with Lisa and her family in NYC.

My parents are finishing 2021 in Africa, with “Doctors Without Borders.” “Step” (my step father) is a heart surgeon and my mom is an anesthesiologist, so they’re a traveling, self contained, double-dutch, operating theater. Yep, now that they’ve shuffled-off the dead weight of their children - they can finally have some FUN.

Here, in NYC we’re back in restrictive spaces as we face-down Omicron this holiday - but I still feel free. Our course work’s been dumb, but now we’ve escaped the strangling, slavery of tedious days - forget hours of reading, fact-sheets, writing essays, and solving chemistry equations - we’ve got 25 days of Christmas vacation!

Lisa’s having a sleepover tonight, friends Will and Karen are coming up (Lisa lives on the 50th floor, they live on the 46th) and we have every distraction known to man.

Tonight was supposed to be the building (220) Christmas party - a formal wear Christmas ball - with a live orchestra - but now (thanks Omicron) it’s an elevator party - we’ll go up to the 70th floor, pick up goodie bags and dinners then return yo-yo like, to Lisa’s.

We can escape our interior habitat to a large balcony where it’s windy and 34 degrees. The sky is a clear black, like an inverted cup of coffee and the stars look French. The city lights dazzle like a billion stars surrounding the black hole of Central Park.

Lisa’s dad is explaining to Karen (10), in some detail, how his shiny,  deluxe, outdoor barbeque - with it’s lid open like a radar dish, can detect reindeer and send updates to his phone in real-time - but Karen looks skeptical.

I hope you all have a wonderful, safe, Christmas and that the reindeer find you wherever you are.
Merry Christmas!
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2021
The life of a party that never ends,
rest your eyes far off from tomorrow.

Youth seem not keen to live on.

As for my youth, I rest childish antics,
placing them all into their bed.

Blow out the voices to a song.

The brown bottles are so heavy,
mostly to the worries of my eyes.

I've partied my heart too long.

Spending the little pay I had,
to buy my cares of their plenty.

And so ends the nights of fun.

Shall I go on to find myself,
just as a dream finds tomorrow?

As the time of partying is gone.

All of the good fortune did allow.
I've spent out all of my wealth.

                                        Soon the party ends
Zywa Dec 2021
A big party, we

laugh and sing, louder, wilder,


and more and more -- free.
"Bella la vita" ("How beautiful is life", 2020, Roderik de Man), played on mechanical ***** (musix box) The Busy Drone (December 1st, 2021) and on spinet (Ere Lievonen, December 2nd, 2021)

Collection "org anp ark" #185
Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2021
I hate social events,
but I'm in the club,
Where they're filling cups,
and throwing up,
Picking up,
and throwing love.
               Who had enough?

While I'm just sitting
talking to nobody,
Feeling like nobody,
drinking until I can't
feel my body,
My eyes are looking
for somebody,
to make me feel like
something,
When I'm feeling nothing.
              Small talk, has me rushing.

Everyone feels like a model,
holding an empty bottle,
With gas in their lungs,
about to hit the throttle,
Kissing their friends,
and fighting couples.
                      I'm about to *****.

I'm feeling extra single,
don't know how to mingle,
with sharp words at the,
Tip of my tongue like a needle.
                  Turned off by a lot of people.

Smiling for my friends,
the one's who misbehave,
Going on a rave,
wanting to go to jail,
Drinking below our age.
                   We're not the same.

Lord forgive us,
for one night stands,
Breaking heart shells
like these peanuts,
We know a lot of those girls,
might actually deceive us,
It won't matter when she's
getting the business.
               Just to feed a *****.

I'm still antisocial for the event,
dragged in by my friends,
When the party began,
God, I wish it would just end,
Spending our weekday bread,
I just want to go home to eat,
and watch some series on my bed.
                      But I'm out here instead.

So if you see the tear
in my red eye,
I'm sad and really tired,
waiting for someone to,
bring up their violence.

Conversation,
are my greatest fear,
I seem to know how,
to only sigh,
Just as,
I've always been wired,
Quietly,
watching you,
Driving the night crazy,
without a licence.

                               And I'm just antisocial.
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2021
~
The quest for invisibility
Leads them here

Your ***** little secrets
Venture out at night
To drink and dance
Into thin air

Your snow melts
Your stars flicker out

But they're not
Beyond detection
When the party's
Not over yet

~
Next page