Middy Apr 7
Clinking cutlery and stomping feet
Shuffling of the seats
Laughs and cries of " I won, I won! "
Adults outside playing ping pong
There's music and dancing
Little girls prancing
Baby boys playing with their toys

Nothing unusual to them
The usual birthday party fun
But not for the girl in the corner
Crying on the floor
Her hands covering her ears
In a usual birthday party
Sorry for not being on for so long guys!
Nimbus Mar 12
I can no longer hide
My soul ignited

once disparaged
I long to share it

The chills in my spine put into words

Lips on skin
Eyes filled with sin

What is this sensation

I drip colors you cannot see

Heightening my passion
Enhancing my touch

Raw emotion channeled as such

My desire aches
The color of flush
My cage breaks
Expressions of lust

I do not fear it
I can hear you blush

My favorite sound

Our souls combust
My restless soul longs for something fulfilling
The pieces crackle under foot.
Glassy daggers pattern the cement.
Alleyway objects fall and stick,
collect,
under oil, ash and soot
The pieces crackle under foot.

The cries echo, howling wide
muffled under pain and grim
muffled under bends of time
muffled, quiet
hushed and silent
The cries echo, howling wide

The burning smoke, fowl and rank
invades the air we often drank
suffocates the smiles we made
the yellow thick
the yellow sticks
the yellow smoke
fowl and rank.

The bodies piled, bloated flesh
freshly killed, forgotten trash
faces of crumbled hopes
faces of lost souls
faces froze
faces cold
The bodies piled, bloated flesh
Watching Dunkirk, had me thinking dark war thoughts.
I have a hard time with differentiation
Between getting coffee
  And let's demolish 3 bottles of wine!
Between getting inspired
  And let's spend holidays seeing the country in a van!
Between getting butterflies
  And let's kiss on the face right now!

Surely,
There must be spectrums I can bisect
  Splitting
   Platonic Love from Romantic
   Sensory from Sensual
   And Casual from Committed
But they are not immediately apparent to me.

Regardless of type
All ships must be properly cared for,
So I will patch the holes
Man the sails,
And try not to rock the boats
Too terribly hard.
10/25 Inktober prompt: Ship
Gabriel burnS Aug 2017
Words are the hands of thoughts;
Fingertips flow
Where she clenches her eyes
Sinking teeth
In lower lip
Prison bars to sighs
Anchored to liberty
Looming like a storm
in the distance
Alternate version:

Words, the hands of thoughts;
Fingertips flow
Where her eyes close
Clenching sighs;
Pearls emerge from darkness
Sinking in scarlet
Till the salt sparks
The sweet
And the lip trickles
Iron taste
Of the coming storm
Mars Jul 2017
Blind and deaf
But rich in color
I was one
Instead of many
Dumb to some
Not worth a penny
My body left
Behind in water
A Link to space
Forever at rest
There was no pace
Colder then hotter
Magnetic waves
Pure backdrop
The heart raved
Mind stopped
Without a care
I was dumb to some
But so aware
So rich in color
About a sensory deprivation experience.
Highly recommended.
m j g May 2017
we woke up together, enveloped in each other and your bedsheets, to the sound of soft wind chimes in your bedroom window and cars driving past your home. your room smells like your cologne and the laundry detergent my mother used when i was young. you lazily half moaned, half murmured, "good morning, love," and you, with your dazed condition and morning breath, found my lips and met them with yours. you pulled me in closer and ran your fingers gently through my messy, tangled hair, and i inhaled your scent so deeply i could feel it softly settle in the bottoms of my lungs. the morning sun shined through your bedroom window and the shadows of the trees outside danced in the wind along your baby blue bedroom walls. you ran the tips of your fingers gently in sporadic loops along my shoulder blade and spine. we lay there and took it all in, took each other in, our legs intertwined and my head against your chest. for these few minutes i found myself wishing we could live infinitely in these small, precious moments, the ones we take for granted, the ones we only remember when the big picture is gone. i snuggled closer into your arms and we drifted back to sleep, heartbeats synced and bedsheets entangled in our legs.
Nothing like a cup of coffee to cure your ills
Tired?
Coffee will do the trick
Stressed?
Grab a brew and you'll loosen up, you old stiff.
None of that cheap shit
A slow roast blend from the third world
will do.

Milk?
No, pure.
Sugar?
NO! Pure.
Filter?
No, drip only.

I want every morsel of flavour.
Ever drop from those mud coloured grind granules.
Every little pitter patter
Of brown bitter splatter.
So strong to leave a man wired
Awake?
So Awake ; prepared.
Alive?
So Alive to my surroundings;  aware.

Oh, there come those jitters;
perfect,
To be nothing less than scared.
God damnit, I said no filter!
I promise you
it'll tastes better

Hey buddy, I'm at the centre
Tired of your gimmicks
Frappa-this
Cappu-that
I'm not a fan of that mocha crap
For I am a purist, through and through.

Therefore, hand what I demand,
Said dark waters
With heat of Hades
Please, i must, before i falter
SAVE ME! i FEEL THE SIGNS!

Oh gosh, we're fresh out of coffee.

Darn it, well, I guess a tea should be fine!
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