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Emily Mitchell Mar 2018
Rummage..., creeeek..., Thump!, Click!
Mushrooms spring up suddenly
After the rain starts.
Visualizing a bunch of pedestrians opening umbrellas on a rainy day.
The part about mushrooms is true too >w<
TeeCrush Mar 2018
Resting in bed
peacefully I lay
awaiting the new day
as the last one is now dead
In the midst of silence and solitude
I hear them
like the banging of sheet metal
The hounds bark
and i do shiver as it startles my heart
because now
walking on my level
is no one other the devil
They howl and they cry
a growl so bloodcurdling
it keeps me up all night
And I hear the rumble
The one that calls to me
Like the blowing of a horn
Reviving the children stillborn
Calling to the shadows lying over me
and the demons inside us we can’t see
The hellhounds
they dance and they cry
I hide and I cower
In my small house
painted in white
I do hope the sound will stop
As I cannot sleep
If this is the sound of hell
I have no desire to meet red belle
I heard some loudass fkn sounds while trying to sleep in bed one night. I could hear it from outside, in the street, but the sound was so powerful and loud that I just chose not to look out my window. I wrote this instead.
BC Jaime Mar 2018
he was a tambourine
cling-cling-cling
competing with the guitar,
strrr...uuummm...
bass,
puuu-waaa...ssh!
and drums
BO...o...Om!

In the orchestra
he was the conductor's baton
swish-swish-swish
drowned out by the oboe
BRRR...Rooo...
cello
teener-neener-teen
violin
Neee-nah­-neee...nahnahnah-nee...

When he went solo
he was a harp
bling-bling-bling-bling...
graceful, delicate
tling-ling-ring-bling...
his strings plucked
pling-pling-pling-pling
by angels
© BC Jaime 2018 || IG: @b.c.Jaime

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/.
Colm Mar 2018
With a rain like this
That would never stop
I'd wish it not over
Again and again
That way I wouldn't have to face the sunshine
Let alone call it mine
When this need for a new life of mine
Must begin
Never end...
Em Feb 2018
Do you bleed when you write?
When your fingertips
get sore and your muscles
get tight
Do you bleed?
From your heart?
With each beat comes a new
line
and you hope that it sounds like something
that doesn't quite rhyme
But it sounds good in time.
It'll sound good in time.
Just keep writing.


Keep bleeding.
Don't give up on this. The pen was made for your hand and your hand only. I swear.
Tanisha Jackland Feb 2018
It is good to have
open ears
how else would you
hear the sound of
your God or the Beloved
the one that
moves silently
thru all things
live gently and
walk like your feet are
your wings
A young lady with synesthesia disorder (in this case, for her, sounds have color and texture) once told me that my voice sounds like "snowflakes on the tongue". Here's a short poem I wrote about it.
Nadja Jan 2018
Rumbling seats, walls and sounds.
Gleams of light
Hold me tight

Please..

i need to feel safe again..
Sunnwhale Jan 2018
Tic tac, tic tac, tic tac,
It’s the sound I hear at night
Of a clock that’s up to brag
Of it’s skill to move the time.

Tic tac, tic tac, tic tac,
Every second in the dark
Leaves inevitable mark
On a heart that stopped to hark.

Tic tac, tic tac, tic tac,
Even candles know the tact,
For I see it’s burning tongues,
Kissing air in the glass.

Tic tac, tic tac, tic tac,
Coexisting dark and light,
Moving arrow never stops,
Serving purpose of a guide.

Tic tac, tic tac, tic tac,
I hear you whisking into night,
Sleepless, one and only clock,
Softly bragging in the dark.
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