Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Some friendships never die—
& others simmer softly
In a boiling kettle of
Misty potential.
Theanm Ankh Apr 26
Haven't seen him smile right in
Quite the while but I know
He's a smart boy, so he must know
How to escape his little slump.

Peter does not know
The true size of his slump.
Only that She's got
A soft, pooling belly under
Plumes of purple smoke
Floating over her wax *******;
Perfect for forgetting.

He's trying to breathe through cold drizzle
Photosynthesize through linen tarp
I say he chooses not to leave the rain
And he nods.
I live on the edge of a chair
Tethered to the rafters
everyday I dream of slipping
Testing this potential energy

My toes curl around the wood
My heels lift me up
My fingers trace the rope
I am potential energy

My feet ache
My legs ache
My body aches
One day I’ll collapse

I live my life on the edge of a chair
tethered to the rafters
one of these days I will slip
I will be born kinetic.
I’m taunted by my very own
kinetic energy
Melody Mann Apr 5
The vessel that is set to carry out its mission,
Is the very utensil the architect uses to craft the map,
My the courses it charts with swift motions and firm strokes,
It dispenses the virtue of possibilities onto the surface,
Opening doors to a world beyond comprehension,
How the mind wanders to conceive dreams the heart can only fathom,
Endless is its creation aiding all who heed its call.
SomaSonata Mar 27
Left me high and dry
With no room to spare inside
Consolation prize

There's no end in sight
Your favorite *******
Returns the favor

Supernova explodes
Into a spectrum of light
The colors bleeding

Gone without a trace
Absorbed into outer space
Totally consumed

Beings of light
Trapped in material form
Roses which adorn

Untapped potential
Systematically reformed
Laokos Feb 28
patterned love responses
spiraling outward from
the chest in search
of hearth and
hemlock to
soothe the brittle
bones of a
generation lost
to time.

I remember a feeling
once felt in
the spacious quality
of my life
in its infancy.

a 'coo' to my
mother--her face
beaming through
the unknown
harshness of life
yet to touch me.

father was out
working, adding
more and more
points of stress to
his life to provide
for the seeds
he sewed in the
soil of his youthful

adulthood snuck
up on me too and
now its too late to
go back.

these days
the only coup
that will save me
is the one
I perpetrate
against myself.
the one that
corrodes my beliefs
and illuminates
the extent of their
misconceptions about
the world and
what it means
to be me.

loyal are the lashes
that lick my flesh
serving the blood
that drips and
flows to the
soil of my own
wasted youth.

all I can do now
is look forward
to the unknown
that looms ahead;
terrifying and promising
failure and change

pray to your altars
and cry to the
invisible mute gods;

they will answer
in kind in the
laughter of children
playing upon
your spent life.

and so it goes--
life eats life
and mother's die

use your voice
while you have
it--speak of clouds
and storms that
broke you, of winter
and the living
silence you've endured.

praise be to the
broken and the
weary of heart, for
in the breaking is
the great gift
of life

and what you
become after each
shattering is nothing
short of your
endless potential.
mark soltero Dec 2020
we always look for ways to save ourselves
but not to shelter the miseries of others

empathy is dead in this modern age
fragile labels aren’t made for people

what’s unspoken of in the darkness
keeps us from our true potential

devastated with life
we push through until we die

in the circle of life
survival is never an option
Maria Etre Nov 2020
is        ^                  
     when it is abused.
Andrew Layman Oct 2020
A call to brokenness
A call to arms

Recall our love
Recall our charms

We are not done
We are not through

I bleed for us
I bleed for you.
Next page