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David Adamson Aug 2021
Dance is the shape that body gives to music.
As your dream unfolds, words fly backwards at the speed of sleep.
He disliked the word “stalker.” He preferred “scientist of solitude.”
Leaving a message to his former self, written in pills.
His muse turned out to be mere longing in ordinary darkness.
This was the choice:  hear the music or feel the cold at the base of your spine.
I asked your heart, “Sit next to me?” You apostrophized to a tree.
Order cannot contain itself. There is always remainder. Flecks float in sunlight.
Stop laughing at my jokes and let me get on with this suicide note.
You stared at a white index card, waiting for a prayer to appear
A rhetoric of purpose is a philosophy of decay.
Keeping darkness at bay with the failing light of poetry.
Pockets Aug 2020
It'll be alright
It'll be okay
Little white lies I tell every single day

Well, that is if you believe what Doug has to say
I believe they’re true
It’s not a platitude
It's an attitude
If you want to be a schmuck, that's up to you
But me… I ain't got time to feel blue
Sally A Bayan Aug 2019
On starry nights,
i think of the comets and meteors
that graced the starlit skies of past nights,
of falling stars i chased, as i uttered my wishes
before they disappeared at the far end
and somewhere out there....exploded

all these...were mine...they used to be mine
to hear you say, i was your rainbow...was divine
i was your sun, your source of light,
your moon...your accompanying glow at night...

.............you said..................

day or night, it wouldn't matter...
nothing could shield my glitter
we were bound by long strings of glowers,
ties.....that could never be severed

for, i.....was your universe.

yet....the moon, the sea and the tides,
the wind and the rain.....all connived,
all decided: for now, things musn't jibe
all worked together...to create space
all made the earth move, on a different pace.

we used to be rich with all the things,
.....suddenly, we ran out of everything.

our world...slowly crumbled
our paths followed suit, and swerved
yes, we were clearly breathing
but, WE....had stopped existing,

promises, declarations, then uttered,
became platitudes...stale, and dead.

i am now,
my own Universe.



Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
June 3, 2016
The monsoon season is truly affecting my poetry,
this is an old,  super sad, yet, silly love poem:)
Thank you, dear ones, for bearing with me.
Ylzm Aug 2019
i live an aimless life
no goals no ambitions
just wandering here and there
always on a journey

from somewhere to anywhere
going everywhere getting nowhere
with lots of money and time
life then only truly lived

always on a journey
to the moon from the deep
to the east from the west
to the poles from dancing poles

from hedonistic feasts to orgiastic flesh
from serene silence in the highest coldest peaks
to traitorous tyrant in murderous boardroom bloodbathing takeover
life's a journey and I'm loving it

only fools believe and excuse failures as a journey
they say that
the centre will hold;
it's a pity
i'm not
centred
at all
Scarlet McCall Nov 2016
Age ain’t nuthin' but a number, they said.
Only each of those numbers
means you’re one step closer to being dead.
Sure, I can still wear a short dress.
But why would I—
there’s no need to impress.
The hormones have fled, and in their stead
I have wisdom and serenity. I’ve said goodbye
to the burning desire to coax someone into bed.
Yes, I could hike the Himalayas, if I try;
but my arthritis means
every step of the way, I’d cry.
I play the guitar, but don’t get too far,
before I feel it in my elbow.
Didja notice Jimmy Page
rubs his arm?I guess he didn’t get the memo--
the one that says it’s just a number, your age.

I’m here to tell you age makes you humbler.
NO ONE my age says “age is nothing but a number.”
Numbers mean something, they add and subtract;
by the time you’re my age, you’re in your second act.
In fact the second act is closing, I’m moving on to the third—
the final act--where you’ve got to sum it all up, but, rest assured:
I’m not pining for my lost youth,
when I had better health,
but less truth.
PR re-post from a couple years ago.
Ma Cherie Sep 2016
I don't know why
you say these platitudes of goodness

Simply repeating the same thing
over and over
broken, scratching records
skipping needles
and hearts

You're not coming from a place of a pure soul and a beautiful spirit
I don't know what it is
if it's indifference,
jealousy, envy...
wishful thinking?

Well our boat is sinking
A perfect cliche
"say what you mean and mean what you say"
I can't do ambiguous

I hope you find peace with your demons
angry, gutteral enemies
dragging you to hell
at night
not kicking and screaming
you cannot find the light
from a place of selfish
egotistical narcissism and intentions to only help yourself
Good luck Chuck.

Cherie Nolan© 2016
Life and people are confusing.it
Julie Grenness Aug 2015
Nurses know best,
Better than the rest,
Nurses do the basics,
Drugs for all,
Including Lasix,
Never mind, they'll say,
Better tomorrow than today,
You'll improve each day,
Never mind, be home soon,
That's their daily tune,
Never mind, never mind,
Words fixed firmly in time,
Better than the rest---
Nurses know best!!
A tribute to the nursing profession.
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