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Bhill 7d
We were expecting so much more
The weather report said it would just pour
The clouds came in and it started to roar
The winds followed next and left it's own score
The thunder made due as it rolled out its snore
The storm was here and it wanted much more

It wasn't as bad as the weather report
The storm sort of fizzled and ran a bit short
It laid down some snow with a hint of haze
It could have been worse as the report displayed
The scare was gone as the storm blew out
Back to clear weather without any doubt...

Brian Hill - 2019 # 298
A scary storm report gone wrong..
Alex Smith Jan 17
A mind full of patterns
In every which way.
And cycling
On my walls.
Waves of colors burst
And I forget myself.
Fly into my spiritual dimension
And ascend.
Then it ends.
And I feel some clarity
And comfort
Wash over me.
aj Dec 2018
I experienced
and I wrote:

When I think of you I feel like I am going to cry.
Well, I don't cry
but my stomach decides to cave in and collide with some sort of fluttering that feeds into my lungs
my heartbeat turns into more of a tick

into my stomach a small rock is dropped
it rolls around at the bottom
slowly it gets hot
the heat spreads up my throat and across my chest radiating down to where my elbows meet the inside of my forearms
from there, the energy pulses to my fingertips
its like buzzing but with the addition of tiny little ******
I feel that in my wrists

The heat grows heavier on my chest
now I feel it a bit behind my eyes
my hands that pulsed now throb along with my thighs
now the rock in my stomach decides to put press up on my spine
it tickles in a way that makes me want to laugh to relieve the pressure

I laugh but laughing leaves me feeling winded
my esophagus now thinly coated with a foggy thickness
the word that comes to mind when I think of it is dread

my spine is now a magnet that my ribs want to meet
I breathe out
they sink back towards my spine, reaching for something
my breathing feels forced but at the same time I can't control it

my thighs feel warm and almost swollen
my feet are already cold
each hair on my head seems to gain a pulse
certain ones even feel electric
the stinging in my nose tries to curdle my expression
I try not to let it
but my nose wants my cupid's bow and my jaw wants the corners of my mouth

the rock shifts around again, renouncing itself
my ribs suddenly collapse causing my to inhale my own exhaled breath
the stinging in my nose rides up behind my eyes and

(this is where I usually stop it, often with speech or with another laugh
images carry away sensation
I place them back into those mental pictures of pastimes and things potential and things yet to come, replacing the label with "sadness" with "hope"

knowing now that the rock is just my heart, it finds its way back up to the tiny box where it beats on the walls, constantly trying to find its way back out

I remember that hearts do good
I remember my lips, only then do I realize that they had gone numb
I think of warmth

the stinging in my arms, the picks and the pulses in my fingertips
those are the only things I can't beat
the energy at the inside of my elbows goes back up to my chest and  hovers over my heart

the hovering feeling never goes away

but I remember this energy is mine to live with and move on)

but if I don't stop, if there is a sense of weakness to my day
I feel the urge to smile almost
the burning in my eyes gets hotter, it usually comes in bursts
my vision turns to stained glass
the rock starts punching its way up my spine
my lower eyelids want to sink back towards my face, my eyebrows try to tie themselves in a bow
I try not to blink

If I'm lucky, my eyes tear up
If I'm not, tears roll down

my stainless masterpiece ruined by a contorted, conflicted smile-frown

I feel air on my tears
I breathe out and remember thought

my hands want to hold
my arms want to hug
my lips are numb but they know jut as well

that the catalyst has come full circle on this one, love
With this poem (monologue?) I had no intention other than to report with words the physical side of emotion. I just wrote as if I was reporting objective, physical sensations. My hope is to make this a series, maybe reflecting in this way within contrasting moments? Or maybe have other people report their own descriptions? Who knows where it will go. But please, enjoy.
Tori Schall Oct 2017
A  failure,
He was made
with our failure to listen
and was released
by our faults
This was a blackout poem I had made a few days ago from a police reports page.
Commuter Poet Jul 2016
On this day
The world can see clearly
The lies
That we knew
Were told
And sold
To the people

On this day
The photographs
Tell deeper truths
As bereaved mothers
Hold pictures of their departed sons

On this day
The self righteous leader
Is named by one as
The worst terrorist of all

On this day
The people
Are at a loss
To know
Whom to trust

On this day
Although my heart sinks low
And I grieve
At all loss
I will try to believe
That we can change
7th July 2016
7:30PM, October 9, 2015, 65*F, 10mph breeze, 5% humidity (somehow 10% where I was sitting), 50.0001% chance of rain, dark, cold, late, loud...I think that's enough. Alright! Spoiler alert, Birkston High won the game. If you simply have ears you've known that for a while (many of us who were at the game don't). All the people in Grenfolkshire were there, so there were some empty bleachers, but the Student section was full and lively, and did I say loud, because LOUD....! My ears were ringing (at a B8 note, for the musically overcurious people) for three days straight. I think it was a healthcare tactic, dare I say it. All those figurehead townspeople were there as well, like Mayor Arnofold Plattersbury with his orange jumpsuit, waving a pompom in the air like he just didn't care. Really, he didn't-I got whacked in the head with it eleven times. Recently, after taking a recent poll on the recent event, it was found that only about 35% of people really knew what happened, a number that has declined, recently. This very well is contributed to 1.) most of the people are there for the free food and don't exactly major in football 2.) teenagers are highly social creatures 3.) a bunch of hands in the air and six foot tall mammoths standing on the bleachers will tend to block the view of the people who are five foot small. The freshmen had a real problem on their heads. Nevertheless, the Wildcats found themselves with the bell for another year, whether they knew it or not. The Panthers found themselves nose-in-the-dirt, tail-dragging, while we found ourselves filing out like a herd of wild penguins onto the field.
It's not really a poem...I'm sure you can see
Getting tired of these Skype numbers and random letters
Engulfing the posts on this site.
-Clear skies. No pigs. (Sorry kid)
-Dry. No cats and dogs. (Sorry kid)
-Windy. 30mph gusts. (Sorry Gramps)
Part of my comical newsletters
Cloudy tonight
With chance of fear 70%  
Tomorrow tears likely , 90% chance
with thunderpoems possible
by evening , some severe
Emotional downpours may occur
Those living with low lying esteem
Should seek higher ground
Grace Mar 2014
What is the meaning of a letter?
They resemble the severity of the talk
of the shame
of the crying

Or maybe they mean laughter

What is the meaning of a plus or minus?
a plus or minus can ether mean life or death.

You grow up knowing that red automatically means

in recent years I learn that its the colors like
that symbolize the F.

The harsher the mark, the better the grade.

Shouldn’t it be the other way?

— The End —