Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
spring has taken
the shape of a wounded coyote...

forcing a layered film
of something very dangerous
to hide in the bulb of each joss flower…

a brutal coercion made pure
by the ghost of the ending winter...

each day has forced warmth
upon me as if it were a ritual,

the annual harvest of my sanity.
blood poetry
I feel its living breath
close now
scented soft upon my shoulder
shivers the breeze
every lamb,
every flower,
every blossoming tree
I do not walk through spring
it walks through me
Vitæ Feb 7
You live
in the cells of me
suspended in
radiant light

like roots resting
under a willow tree
weeping silently
into bloodstream

or softness planted
in summer rain
blooming petals
on a pulsing vein

beneath soil
rich with life,
all leaf, insect
and cell
are One

You —
are a garden
quietly living
as the Sun.

The very anthem of my soul
Is to shed every tear in your arms
And the comfort you shared before
Meant a precious treasure found —
Found in the most genuine kindness
In the most peaceful way
That I can ever calm the storms within me…

My soul longed for time
To bring puzzles into pictures
To depict the beauty I found for years
In the palms of my own ashes and failures.

And in such a span of time and space
That draws me into the vastness of my being —
Then maybe I could say I could just dive
In the ocean’s deep and fear no more.  

If I am to bury myself
And the depths of my heart somewhere,
Would you find this a treasure to keep?
Would you ever believe that I found the half of me…
D Eaf Dec 2023
May this time live
Up to your definition
Of contentment

I hope you find comfort
In what is soul-stirringly
Sentimental to you

May your heart be sate
With gratifying peace
Of the past and present

I hope you find
Beauty in the moments
That go unnoticed

May your biggest gift be
The memories that will
Forever encapsulate your soul

Merry everything
A happy always
Lindsay Hardesty Oct 2023
In an old small town at the top of a winding road there sits a small cottage house with boarded windows and a door that looks as though it has been kicked in multiple times. Passersby would assume the house had been abandoned many moons ago, but local townsfolk know that the house is home to the witch.
Though everyone knew the witch wasn’t scary, her house appeared to be haunted, and every fall the school kids would dare each other to survive what they called “the witches tour”. Some kids would come out crying, others laughing. One day, the witch heard a knocking at her door. A little girl, no older than six or seven stood at her door. “Here for a scare, come on in” the witch said while gesturing for the girl to come inside. The little girl entered the witch's home. The witch didn’t know why, but her palms became sweaty and she could feel tightness starting in her chest.
“I’ll start you off easy” the witch told the girl. “I’m not afraid of anything”. The girl responded back. The witch led the girl up the creaky stairs. When they reached the top of the stairs, bats began to fly overhead. The girl didn’t flinch, they kept walking down the cobwebbed hallway. The witch led the girl into her bedroom and told her to open the closet. The girl did as she was told, and opened the closet. Old skeletons started to fall, piling at her feet.
“I’m still not scared”, said the girl to the witch.
“You’re brave, I’ll give you that” said the witch as they walked out of the bedroom back down the hall into the bathroom.  Inside the bathroom, the girl could see the boa wrapped around the toilet, trying to free its long body from the pipes. Again the girl remained calm, not showing any signs of fear. This made the witch frustrated that nothing seemed to scare this child. The witch rushed down the stairs, her boots clacking on the wooden floor. She flung herself into her rocking chair next to the fire. The girl followed the witch downstairs, and sat on a stool in front of the witch. The witch had an idea, and pulled out her big book of fears. The witch began to show pictures of phobias to the girl. The girl looked at them with interest and entertainment. The witch, again frustrated, slammed the book shut, and film of dust floated in the air.
“You have to be afraid of something, everyone is afraid of something” the witch told the girl with exasperation.
“What are you afraid of”? asked the girl. The witch rocked back and forth in her chair. No one had ever asked her that before. “Ghosts”, the witch said with a tremble in her voice, “they always come back to haunt you” whispered the witch.
“Are you afraid of me”? asked the girl.
“Why would I be afraid of a child”? asked the witch, but then she looked closer at the girl and the ache in her chest began to grow tighter and she could feel the sweat form on her palms. “How did you find me”? asked the witch.
“I’ve been looking for you, I need to tell you something” said the girl.
The witch sat frozen in her chair, paralyzed by her greatest fear. The little girl climbed up on the witch's lap, grabbed her face in her small soft hands, and looked the witch in the eyes. “I’m proud of you and I love you” the girl told the witch before she nestled her head into the crook of the witch's neck.
Instinctively, the witch wrapped her arms around the little girl as she began to cry. The witch cried for so long that the little girl fell asleep in her arms. The witch rocked her until she fell asleep too.

In the morning, they woke up and the little girl told her it was time for her to go. The witch begged her to stay. The little girl told her she would always be with her, and to look in the mirror if she ever needed her.
The witch hugged the little girl goodbye and watched her skip down the long, winding road until she was out of sight.
In a small town at the top of a long, winding road, sits a beautiful cottage house with a tall oak tree, and a tire swing where the school kids play. In the house lives the witch, who maybe, never really was a witch after all.
ChinHooi Ng Oct 2023
The temptation
to belly-flop
on a raked pile of leaves
long-awaited greetings
yet a familiar city
semi worn-out platform
it's oh so simple
to know you
but it has made me
think back
on every autumn day
i contemplate
the happiness that extended
from nothing more than chance acquaintance
i want to hold
onto that sweet corner
of my mind
you came in fall
does it have to be a scene
of fading greenery
why do those red leaves look weirdly
my disheveled state of mind at the present time
can't afford to be challenged or tested
though i love the autumn
including its solemn austerity
mahogany melancholy
all in honor of the pretty lady
i met you
and inordinately liked you
in that old part of the school
you came my way
and it sure was
an autumn day.
ChinHooi Ng Sep 2023
Standing on the overpass
i stop to look away
the endless stream of cars
sprinting from under my feet
dusky yellowish lights
start to illuminate the night
the city is beautiful at this time
yes it sure is
as the autumn winds blow
coolness grows
the heart feels barren
for no reason though
stars in the sky
twinkle once in a while
each one is an unknown dream
each one is too far away
a drop of rain fell from thereabouts
i saw it so i reach out
it touches my cheek
slips out of the corner of my eye
then in a trice
It floods the cityscape.
Next page