Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Karly Codr Jan 29
a thin brush
painting small circles
on denim
steady hand
stop shaking
hi i'm back. i'm working on painting the back of a jean jacket I have and this just sort of came to me... anyway... it kind of ***** but whatever
Casey Apr 2020
chilled in the KwikTrip fridge,
a holy grail
from the beverage

The cause of the lightness of my wallet
that waits
behind the glass.

Staring back at me.
Our prompt was to write a parody of Pablo Neruda's "Ode to a Large Tuna in the Market"
Bella-Lee Aug 2019
When I'm awake,
                                                          ­              All of my body shakes.
     When ever I'm in your wake,
                                                      My body will quiver and quake.
             Oh... how your smile would make,
                                          Words shift from that violent snake.
      Everything I knew you said was fake,
                        Plunge into my body that wooden stake.
                                   And I bleed from my skin like red on a snowflake,
Drown my body in my hearts tears that form thy lake.
I got really bad anxiety yesterday... My body started to shake and I felt as though i was going to *****. All cause of a cute guy who served me coffee... He walked into my work after and I literally stopped right still and couldn't breathe... I don't know why, just I felt so ill and i still feel bad. I only thought he was cute like f**k!
lmnsinner Nov 2017
she just shakes her head

she meets me on the street-corner, me from work, she from dance,
in the grayling dusk of a thank god it’s a freedom Friday night,
I greet her with words semi-adventurous -

“come with me, few errands to run, keep me in good company”

to the candy store we go for to purchase my weekend eve
lottery tickets and blow-pop lollipops, just in case some
kids appear, a surprise omen as they come
trick-or-treating just before Thanksgiving

the Bangladeshi candyman calls out a long prayer
in his native Bangla

she asks “what’s that he’s saying?”

“Oh, just wishing us a pleasant Sabbath and
may his gods smile upon our good lottery fortune”

she just shakes her head, from side to side

emerging from the store, walking home in the
now doubly ***** darkly dusk,
a set of white teeth from a passing shadow-man says to me
“you’re home late and have a great weekend,”

she asks, “who is that?”

“why,” I reply, “that is our very own personal postal carrier’

she says:
“he delivers mail to ten thousand people all in buildings tall,
yet knows your name, your face,
where you buy your lottery tickets,
your coming and going hours,
how came that to be”

but waits not for an answer
she just shakes her head, from side to side

I show her my secret entrance to our apartment house,
the fast route to collect our mail, dry cleaning in one fell swoop
a secret door, secret elevator taking us directly to our apartment

a secret elevator which is under the direction of
Bimal from Nepal,
who I greet in Nepalese, (my tutor)
I, asking after Brian and Bryce, his 100% American boys

now she says nothing, but before our door, as I go key digging,
she just shakes her head, from side to side

later she says:

“let’s order in, apprise me of  your expertise,
some exotic fare from Manhattans First Avenue,
known for its aphrodisiacal powers
you must tell me each dishes name,
in its tongue’s nativity,
but much, much later,”

and as she speaks, grinning,
she sticks out her tongue,
while she just shakes her head,
but this time,

mostly a true story, mostly
Tatiana Feb 2019
Somewhere, there is a house upon a hilltop
that still has the shakes
of life that once lived within it.
Shivering with memories
of children's feet pounding
through the halls as they played.
They were the blood racing through its veins.

Yet all races must come to an end.

Now the house is nothing more
than a reminder of the past
that's unsteady; it shakes
like hands that have held too much.
The house is nothing more
than gaping windows, knocked out doors
and peeling paint;
that shudders in the terrible breeze.
Memory has always been rather shaky
Vexren4000 Mar 2018
Shaking hands,
Reverberating buildings,
Shattering glass,
And panicked peoples,
Quaking earth,
Exposing new land,
And shifting plates,
Of old eras rising again.

Nay Nov 2016
although the inside of my complicated mind shakes
the only thing that shines through the cracks
is *You
some people meant so much to the others
they could even gave them the will to keep on living
inside this hell-is world
I hate to say what's already been said,
Yet I feel it necessary to do so;
"You're like my own personal brand of ******."
The more you give of yourself to me,
The more I need.
And then when you go,
With no warning,
I am left alone to deal with the shakes,
The trembles,
This cold turkey that you have left me.
Beau Grey Apr 2016
A man and wife go to lunch.
Premium burgers, shakes and fries.
It's cheap and he can wear his sweatpants.
For every one couple,
there's twenty single fathers
with his children.
(a depressing ratio)
It must be custody weekend.
At the Heartbreak Hotel
tables for two occupy singles.
The men picked out their best shirts
and the women painted their lips.
Looking only for a conversation,
they leave with a bill
priced with another Sunday
of shattered hope.
Next page