Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lyn-Purcell Jun 2020

I am lost in the haze of memories of us as one

My eyes gaze the horizon as the sky and sea kiss

I haven't gotten how we smiled with the sun

and cried with the rain

How our secrets of the heart were held by dandelions

and each seed took to the sky, so free.

I have yet to truly resign myself to the thought of you being gone

For every embrace was and still is sacred to me

The sunset bathes in the sea, leaving orange ripples

How I wish I could've used the light to banish your darkness

To take the shade into a stone and skip it on the seas

And we can embrace the songs of nature as we laugh

and ride away, our turbulence forgotten

I envision the facets of faces of people I knew and know

Watching me as they bob on boats

But the wind brushes away the mirage and I am before the horizon

once more

As I hope that wherever you are,

That you see the same sun, same stars and skies

that I do

from this parapet


For the past few days, I have been placing myself on one of the highest hills, and just reflecting on life and the choices made. I don't want to hurt anyone, yet I know that I am capable of it, intentionally or not. Truly one of the most poignant things of being human.
My heart has been bleeding so much the past few weeks...
I deeply wish I had the power to heal, I really do...
I hope I can make peace with every storm in me as I keep moving forward regardless.
Be back soon with more!
Much love,
Lyn x
Lyn-Purcell Jun 2020
Bird flies over hills
Wait for me around my mind
Grass grows without fear
Forgot to post this yesterday where I walked up a hill and took in the sights of man and nature both...
Worth it haha!
Much love,
Lyn 💜
Lyn-Purcell Jun 2020
Blade of Heaven's rain
Misfortune has left its mark
Dew sings songs of grief
338 followers, *** thank you all so so much!
This haiku was dedicated to me watching the grass blades in my garden as it's been raining.
Usually I feel so tired around rain but today, I feel so energized! I've got a new project in tow - a new free verse collection in the works! ^-^
I've got alot of research to do for it but itll be worth it!
Stay safe and well everyone,
Much love,
Lyn 💜
Lyn-Purcell Jun 2020
Summer nature song
Sweet chorus and cry from far
Birds flies with freedom
Just came back from an outing. It's a lovely day out today!
Stay safe and well today, everyone!
Much love,
Lyn 💜
Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2020
Do not shun your aspirations
Must have sights set high
Hold a chance at succeeding
Your unwavering dream can fly

Wonder hard
Ponder long
Believe in imagination
Is there limit to what you can achieve?
Pursue your hearts creation
Trying to motivate/inspire others
Mark Toney Oct 2019
(Dedicated to my Father, who was totally paralyzed
for 7 years before he died.)

I awake in the early morning darkness
Frozen, motionless, immobilized.
My eyes straining to see into the black void
Looking for any sign of my keepers.
Listening for any kind of movement.
Phantom images dart around me slowly at first,
Then multiple images spring from every direction.
My heart racing, my breathing rapid and shallow,
Byproducts of fear and imagination
Running amok in the dark.

My eyes focus on tiny lights incessantly blinking,
Reassuring my heart as the phantoms vanish.
My ears register the intermittent beeps
And steady, determined droning
Of contraptions that populate my space,
Their sole purpose to prevent the outcome I crave.

My nose catches whiffs of iodoform odor,
Penetrating, pungent, overpowering my sense of smell.
A cruel replacement for what once was
A weekly parade of fragrant flowers
That excited what few senses remain.
The brightly colored blossoms
The sweet, fragrant smells
The delightful sizes and shapes.
But the pleasant river of flowers has dried up
As concern for my plight has waned.

I watch as the determined, dynamic sun
Deliberately dilutes the darkness,
Revealing the magical birth of a new day.
Is that delightful birdsong I hear?
The beeping and droning is maddening,
But I know there’s birdsong outside my window.
I can’t wait until the moment arrives!

As if on cue my keeper appears
Busily going about her assigned tasks.
My eyes following her every move.
“And how are you doing today?” she asks,
Staring at me as if I could answer.
But I lie frozen, motionless, immobilized.
In my mind I replay my daily reply:

"My existence is a never-ending cycle of
Penetrating. . . pungent. . . whiffs
Beep. . . blink. . . drone. . . beep
Blink. . . drone. . . beep, . . . blink
Drone. . . beep. . . blink. . . drone
Penetrating. . . pungent. . . whiffs
Dawn. . . daylight. . . twilight. . . night
Daylight. . . twilight. . . night. . . dawn
Twilight. . . night. . . dawn. . . daylight
Night. . . dawn. . . daylight. . .twilight
Penetrating. . . pungent. . . whiffs
Each boring minute an hour.
Each hateful hour a day.
Each wretched day a year.
Each torturous year a lifetime.
Ad nauseum. . .ad infinitum. . .ad mortem?"

Offering no response to my unspoken thoughts,
My keeper dutifully takes my vital signs,
Temperature, pulse, respiration, blood pressure,
Records the results, then walks to the window.
My favorite time of day has arrived!
“We must open the window to freshen up your room.”
As the window opens my spirit soars, and my ears capture
The lovely birdsong, as well as other living sounds,
Along with a veritable potpourri of smells.
I can only imagine what is happening outside,
And I do imagine it as best I can.

I close my eyes and try to make out each note,
Visualizing the source of each incredible sound,
Be it bird, animal, human or otherwise.
Who they are, what they look like,
What they’re doing, what they’re thinking,
The blinking, beeping, droning is finally drowned out!
With every breath I savor each smell.
And, with eyes closed, as I visualize
What’s happening in my mind’s eye,
A wonderful peace envelops me. . . comforts me.

But, alas, this day will be crueler than most.
Another keeper, a newer keeper, enters my room.
“Oh, she’s fallen asleep” he whispers,
He closes the window, shuts the shades,
Then quietly leaves, shutting the door.
I scream, a loud, long, primal scream, in my mind.
As I lie frozen, motionless, immobilized.  
5/15/2018 - Poetry form: Free Verse - Dedicated to my Father, who was totally paralyzed for 7 years before he died in 1985. - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
em Oct 2019
drop of silver tumbling in the grass
twirling threads and swallowed colors
mixed results in these haunted lands
a fierce light coming from beneath

fumbling forth with feet aflame
a shallow soul, scrambling, scattered
desperation claims the best of them
best not to mention the weak
Jo Barber Jul 2019
I was not beautiful.
Too sharply did the features
of my face intermingle,
strong eyebrows jutting
over a too pale face.

But the more I saw of
this strange and magnificent world,
the more beautiful I became.
Every sun setting
over peaceful lakes
at home and abroad,
among strange company
and familiar,
added to my essence.

The cliffs and the rivers
and the sun screaming
its multi-colored cry
above me imbued itself
in my eyes.

The world's beauty filled mine
and I grew light with the burden of such joy.
vern Jun 2019
there is so much I want to see
wonders I've never glanced at
art I've never seen
skies I've never gazed at
seas I've never looked at
homes I've never peered at
there is so much I want to see
and yet I still haven't opened my eyes yet
that is the question
Time to leave
Break the screens
And find our true eyes
To live the dream
Leave the clean
And head out for a ride

The American dream we seek
To go out for a week
And look for some hell to rise
Get drunk under the stars
Stare at mars
And smoke all the grass i can find

For the American dream
Is were the real people meet
And talk about the times
To do drugs with a couple of thugs
And meet again up in the sky

To discuss the cancer
That grows in our homes
And molds itself to the young
That has done went
And ruined their minds
And destroyed them
Of their good times

For they will never understand
That long travel across the land
Looking for those great friends of mine.
The American Dream has never changed, Hunter S. Thompson layed out the ideas of the american dream that cultures today will never understand.
Next page