Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Keiri 6d
By the skies of humanity
The endless waves of shame
The concept of artificial sanity
Am I playing only a game?

Straying while staying in the stage with so much stakes on my tray while I train on standing straight.

Breathing in my dreams while dreaming about breathing.

Shuddering at the promising sun cooling my thoughts, warming my body on the idea of a cold winter.

The ashes of my sins sweeping swiftly like world's first snow. I close my eyes, for darkness is the only world I would ever see.

Opened at last, my tired eyes witnessed the elegant cherry blossom before me.
Strong and proud the flowerpetals fall. Along with my sins, heaps of ashes into a mountain of grey and pink.

By the mother of my generation.
I shall stand by your side.
The epidemic of our nation,
Will hit us all worldwide.

There is no war fiercer, than a war with ourselves.
First poem in months, I kinda missed it, throwing those words out and just getting things out of my system... Sorry for following ''last poem ever'' with a new poem, I **** at quitting ;)
Beth Garrett Oct 5
You remind me of fresh dew on the grass,
In the morning when it’s cold,
And still dark but the sun is ebbing,
Just below the horizon.

In the sort of calm way that a heart,
Can open,
I wake up to you like snowy mornings,
Mild frost and a chill in the air,
Just enough to make me feel,
A little more alive than usual.

Something crisp, and delicate,
Begs beyond the surface.
Is it the siren’s call?
I have no concrete idea of what this poem is about, but I know exactly what I meant. Somehow.
We were born in a cursed land
A place lost in time and space
Where dreams come to an end
And our beat sound out of pace

So I can’t blame you for leaving
Before mediocrity took your glow
I do hope you find some meaning
Around the pines covered in snow

For there’s beauty in the wild north
If you let it guide your spirit forth
The cold will turn into warmth
Inspired by one of the bravest person I've ever met
Ray Dunn Oct 4
so many trickling drops
running down icicles,
sky matching the startling blue
i see in your eyes.

when the horizon
blends into the snow
and the trees slice through it
like lightning bolts,

snow will be warm in my touch
melting still,
on my bare fingertips
exposed to the elements.

i stumble through the dense woods,
leaving the clearing
to be shaded in and sheltered
by the forest’s river

dead silent.
i look around again,
just the icy expanse of startling blue
i see in your eyes.

you kiss me while we stand
waist deep in the river
and melt away downstream,
like the snow i thought... we thought

we weren’t
icy vibe
JT Sep 25
What do I do
When my breaths
Form clouds
In winter air
No longer
Of my frozen insides
Of ice
Frozen blood
Unable to run
Turning blue
Sticking to my eyelashes
Frigid eyes
Burning cold
Stain my
Snow white
On blue lips

Enas Sep 22
Miriam completed her work promptly that day, cleaned up her workstation and stretched out her sore arms. She wanted to leave in time to take her photos from a studio close by her residence. She glanced out the window at the purple sky. She stared at the small photograph at her desk for a few seconds in silence.
Then she took her gold brown purse and crimson scarf and took off. When she stepped out of the building, her black boots sank into the ground. She cupped her red and cold small button nose with her small hands and looked up at the sky. It was snowing deep that day too, she pondered.

She passed by the studio and took her photos after a long chatter with the vendor, as the dark blue of the sky lurked above. When she reached her house with envelope in hand, at last, she did with her lips open.

“What’s the matter?” she said in bewilderment and little aggravation.
“Come and sit. I have something to tell you, dear.” her mother, Mona, said decisively.
Miriam went inside the house. She walked up the stairs to her room and closed the door. She put the brown envelope of her photos, carefully on her desk and sat on her chair and took a deep breath.

She opened her eyes at the sound of Mona knocking.
” Miriam, I need to talk to you. It is very important.” Mona said.
Miriam got up and opened the door, she followed after her mother downstairs into the living room and sat on a comfortable sofa by the inviting fireplace and looked at her mother.
They sat in silence for a minute.
“We got a call from…” Mona said in hesitation, with her lips wavering.
Now, Miriam’s eyes were focused on her mother’s face. On her brows. On the slight frown in her forehead. On the wrinkles that emerged and faded as she uttered every letter between her trembling lips.

“Joseph is dead. He’s dead, Miriam.” Mona said.

Miriam was not facing her mother anymore. She was gazing at the window, at the little white snowflakes swirling slowly with the wind.
“I see.” Miriam said.
“They said…he was killed in action. He was…” Mona said.
“There is no need to tell me anything more.” Mona said disrupting her.
All she did was stand up and walk to her room wordlessly. Tears streamed hot ardently down Mona’s cheeks, dripping from her bony jaw line.

Miriam locked the door. She threw herself in her bed staring at the brown envelope and reaching one arm to open it. She took out the photographs and took her time with each one.
She stared at each one with an indolent expression.
She frowned when she saw one photo of Joseph, striking a pose at an airport.
What a terrible sense of fashion. What was he thinking? She thought.
He was wearing an olive green knitted sweater with a red-nosed deer pattern, ill-fitting baggy jeans and a dark brown knitted scarf.
Then she beamed at the one dimple that appeared when he grinned.
She traced his features and expression; a long nose, a pointed chin and brown almond eyes. She traced them with her fingers. With her memory.

A tear dropped on Joseph. On his dark brown hair.

She shredded the photographs to pieces, slowly one by one and threw them very gently on the floor.

She clenched to her blanket tightly. She pressed her arms against her chest as hard as she could trying to hold something scorched in. She felt her ribs melting.
She kept gaping with her eyes wide-open, focused on the ceiling on the buzzing neon lights. After a while, her swollen eyes surrendered and her thick-lashed lids closed. Her breaths became deeper and her grip on the blanket loosened up a little.

It was long past midnight when she woke up. She got up and took off her clothes. She stared at the photographs on the floor with her mouth open. She opened the window and stood at the balcony at the break of dawn, unwary of her nakedness or the frosting cold. The heavens snowed generously as the sun rays glittered on the icy glass, on the white streets. She took the torn pieces of the photographs. She took a brief final glance at them, at a piece with almond eyes, then threw them off the balcony scattering them with the wind.

Take to the air away with the snow, just like it took Joseph away from me, Miriam thought.
She made a wish upon every snowflake to bear her grief and make her heart colder.
Mike Sep 17
i miss the sounds of cars
splashing through wet snow and slush puddles
i miss a calm stillness as
snowflakes fall under distant streetlights
i miss the taste of salt
when i slip on frozen city sidewalks
pressure building in my face
i miss wearing jackets too big
and socks too long
i miss the heavy blankets
and the drinks too strong
Next page