Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Amarys Dejai May 5
This is not a soft resting of the head, but a surrender.
There is no seafoam to float on, but instead, bones
made from the metal of the anchors of boats, heavy
with the desire of returning to the earth. It is true, light
does exist so long as the sun still burns. But here, in the
depths of a cold that has never been touched by sunlight,
there is only blindness.

The sirens sing melodies reminiscent of the lullabies that
fall from the mouths of mother and into the ears of infants.
To be held, to feel at peace, these innate desires.
To be unborn again.

Fingers grip, the theory of magnetism and the body of an anchor.
Here, there is blindness, a pressuring cold.
Here, the sirens return me to the womb.
After months of my mental health rendering me exhausted, here is my first piece quite some time.
Tuesday Mar 30
The siren's are singing,
I hear them, they call,
Their cries they summon me,
Into the wild sea.

Their gentle song,
A beautiful hum,
The crashing of waves,
The thunder that saves,
The stillness, inside of me.

Find me, here in this sea,
The dance I share,
Alone, I am free,
The place I found me.

The urgency, the hunger,
Burning in my eyes, the wonder,
What was my life before this?
The sea I will always miss.

Another sun rises,
A stunning blaze, above glassy waves,
I find in myself hope arises,
I surrender into the hope that saves,
The moonlight glistens,
Forever my heart will listen.

My home, my shelter, my life and my love.
For here I am, alone.
In the sea.
Nigdaw Jun 2019
I lie here, supine
Listening to sirens
Heading out towards the motorway
Somewhere, someone's evening
Has turned bad,
In the streets outside the echo
Of teens on mopeds
Reverberates between the
Terraced houses, squeezing
All they can out of a 125 engine
While squeezing all the joy that is left
Out of everyone's sunday night,
Before we all head meekly to work
On monday morning
Weekend warriors, tamed by
The restraints of finances,
Needing to earn the freedom
Of another fix next friday.
I lie here on my side
A pillow blocking at least some
Of the cacophony,
More sirens head out towards
The motorway, someone's life
Has turned into a disaster
All I wanted was an early night.
Ira Apr 2019
"Demons sing,
Throughout the horrid night,
Hoping to cause,
A little fright…"

I don't know why,
But the terrors so good.
We stay here and lie,
Maybe more then we should…

Sirens at night,
Waiting just like we would,
Temptation and ire,
That burns you like firewood.

Maybe we're monsters,
Maybe we're good,
Maybe we're humans,
Just under a hood.

Yet at the end of the day,
We simply saaayyyy,

"There ain't much about us,
That you need to know.
We simply stay here,
Waiting to go.
All that we do,
Is **** fools like you.
For our songs are temptation,
And you humans love damnation!
And just like a lamb,
To the pitiful slaughter,
Your blood will soon run,
Like red crimson water!"
NOOT NOOT PREPARE TO BOOT
Sharon Talbot Mar 2019
These words keep arriving by post,
By phone and through the air:
They say, “I love you the most!”
And he’s always unprepared.

I dismissed them until I knew
What they could mean,
What they could do.

They let a young boy believe
In a dangerous fantasy
Of the young or naïve,
And give himself to ecstasy.

He’d already given himself away
To a girl who “merely loved” him;
He was swayed.
He was wounded by a whim.

How could his young heart
Know the anguish of love spurned?
Of changing minds and false starts?
That passion fades as quickly as it burns?

He was “crushed” when it ended;
His response, pure and true.
Still that phrase he insanely defended!
“I love you, I love you, and I love you”!

How hollow to me it still rings!
My beloved son in pain.
What makes a girl do these selfish things?
What is it that they gain?

Young hearts now seem to lack wisdom;
They’re so eager to believe.
Yet they haven’t the caution
It takes to give love and receive.

Summer, 2006
As a teen, our son kept falling in love with girls who used his feelings and then threw him away. This is just one episode!
Z Feb 2019
20
blue light emergency
try to rewrite my circuitry
try to tell me not to run

so heartily and heartless
their burgundy catharsis
they get em when they're young
Shhhh.....
Do not speak
Listen to the Silence
Whispering in your ears
Words of wisdom
To wake you from the slumber
Castes by the spell of Reality's lies
Rise from the nightmare
You believe to be life
Living awaits your return
By the bed side.
Shhh......
Do not speak
Pay no heed
To the songs of Sirens
That has made you captives of greed.
Hear your thoughts
It's through those waves
Your being tries to reach your body
To lead you to your needs.
Shhhh....
Do not speak
Learn to listen
For you learn
When you listen
The secrets that are never spoken
Yet are floating in plain sight
Only to be perceived by the seeking eyes.
Deidre Lockyer Jan 2019
Violet is a temporary queen on an ephemeral throne
She draws each breath as if her glass slippers might crack
With her silent mousemen guards all lurking
And her pumpkin coach dreams proved fugitive
Violet waits for someone romantic and volatile
She casts desideratas and figs from her balcony each morning
While a sad painter endeavours to capture her essence
Violet wears her daily masks with panache
Underneath, she is restless and bored

Violet knows the cutlers’ secrets and the dressmakers’ fears
She hears all their whispers as clearly as chiming bells
Her futile talents sometimes overwhelm her
But her faux nonchalance carries her onwards
Violet knows they are planning her wedded demise
She dreams of a man bold enough to just come and get her
Passionate enough to rip off her garters and corset
But disappointment advises she compromise
Violet really just wants to be cherished

Zephyr is bringing change

He appears like an impossible ship in the middle of Winter
Promising sunstorms and jonquil flavoured ice fountains
He carries love in a phial and freedom in a sail
Violet sees him and loses all trace of herself
She throws parties and funerals for the end of her sorrow
While Zephyr watches on with desire in his elegant fingers
She is quite unlike anything he’d bargained for
He watches the way she summons her rainbows
And determines to make her smile

Demelza is waiting behind screens

When her position as Spare to her sister was first declared
Demelza found a seer whose hands were magnetic
Predicting a blemish in her doe eyed ascension
Gifting her a once and singular use artifact
Now she sees Zephyr’s gaze linger on Violet’s choice pillows
Feels the abyss in her soul let loose its dancing revenants
Laces the surrogate’s absinthe with treasured oleander
Jealous eyes smirking at royal flesh doomed
Temporary queens are bound for the grave

Violet enters a chamber of mermaids, treachery and kittens
Feels the ephemeral crown dissolving on her unicorn horn
Knows she should have packed her seasonal suitcase
Smiles at the fairy godmother come to fetch her
There are days a girl ought to stay in bed and forget about politics
Let the Pope play badminton with the unpopular treasurer
Let the jester determine their questionable futures
Let nettle soup invade the whole kingdom
Let them all go to hell while she dies

Violet exits, curtains drawn

Demelza sits, a faux queen on a papier-mâché glass throne
Blind to how her husband sees her as a spoilt soiled dove
Unknowing that her sister’s corpse comes between them
Usurpers and children are rarely welcome at court
Zephyr has pre paid her funeral, bought her dress pre-poisoned
Three ladies in waiting hastily lace up her unpretty fate
Served with a bitter almond tea cake for one
Zephyr rolls his eyes at her brief yet histrionic death
Sails his widower’s treasure ship into the sun

Sirens are singing up storms

Out at sea, strange gales are raising kaleidoscopic mythologies
Sirens circle the ship, gothic faces all greenly shimmering
Seeking ******* plunder for their white fields of bone
Zephyr plugs his ears with flowers, but to no avail
Voices of honeyblood ruin wrap themselves round his throat
Circumstances are demanding his acquiescence
This is quite unlike anything he’d bargained for
Yielding to the knowledge he will never go home
His desiderata falls overboard, he is gone

Beneath the waves, glass crowns perch wistfully on white bone skulls
Baby sirens play with gold coins and conquistadores knuckles
Rainbow fish swim fancifully between missionary ribs
Through Zephyr’s laced fingers a lone uncanny violet grows
Rare treasure springing from the devotion of a temporary Queen
Sensing love, the lissom Siren spies it with inky black eyes
Soft in her terror, she hones in on the violet’s mourning aura
Plucks the bloom, threads it into her seaweed hair
Waltzes off into the colder depths, oblivious
Dani Nov 2018
A skippity hop and muddy socks
Sail boats and rain coats
Semis and dump trucks
Bubble baths with ducks
Throwing a ball I love it all!!
***** feet and a sweet treat
Firefighters and quad riders
Lights and sirens and jolly lions
Puppy heroes and horses with wings
These are a few of my favorite things
Written for my almost 3 year old daughter. Her favorite things! She has a firetruck and says "I am a firewoman!" Paw Patrol and My Little pony are the last few references there. She is my whole world!
Next page