Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Anais Vionet Nov 2022
It’s starting to cool down here in Connecticut. Leaves are falling, like giant, burnt snowflakes (science says that trees send chemical signals to their branches to clip leaves away).

Peter borrowed a friend's toy-like, pea green, Fiat-500 convertible and we drove into the country to see the turning leaves. We hiked a bit too and stopped, in Mystic, for seafood.

I never realized just how theatrical trees could be, with their few, simple, chlorophyll tricks and how reflective still lakes could be. Wowzer, just - wowzer.

There are some things that should never be shared. Like a toothbrush, an iPad, lipstick, strawberry stroopwafels, a slice of pizza or a secret lover (that last one just sounded good). But life is good, I can share that. We’re young, dramatic sophomores with good hair products and we’re at it, working and playing hard.

Ahh.. ok, upon consultation, I have to add that some of us are in their mid-twenties with only a few good years left.

Did I mention that we climbed up a twisty lighthouse staircase too? Peter always thinks people should take the stairs, and not the elevators, “You want to have muscles and bones that work when you’re eighty,” He says. Since he’s closer to eighty than I am, when we’re not carrying furniture, I let him have his way. Of course, he’s never been to up Lisa’s 50th floor townhouse either.

My mom told me that they’re off to Poland again, over the holidays, for another tour with “Doctors without Borders” (**** war). Lisa’s parents have (kindly) invited me to share their high-rise utopia again this year. Who knows, maybe Peter will have his chance to try those stairs.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Utopia: “a place of ideal perfection”
Zack Ripley Jul 2021
We only live once but that’s alright.
As long as we find our love
and our light.
You’ve shown me a way
to make it through the nights.
You helped me in a way
that I never can tell.
You showed me love
and brought me out of my shell.
So I need to thank you now
For  pulling me off the stairway to hell.
Raven Feels Jun 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, once in October-----<>

once in fallen October
a yellow far than closer
maybe more red than what smells older

steps flashback to my death
when I tried to find my swept breath
maybe ten seconds left my world in mess
at the train station
still lost in words desperation
maybe why I yearn today even for hurt in fascination
broken feels hold
immortal memories remain unfold
maybe ringing phones would again shiver me in cold

in your stare
felt like I was there
maybe letters I missed from gazes tripping down the stairs
backs embrace
more than a lover's torn trace
maybe how sometimes I forget your face
when I swear to get rid to not show
my heart stops acting in slow
maybe longs paled my color once upon a time ago

never mine
older than wine
maybe a one tasted moment time
drained my soul and called me helplessly
see you living selfishly
maybe all in my head in hope of the real of my fantasy

maybe the don't leave was a mumble created
maybe honey drips cut like knives invaded
maybe sweet carries of lots an essence when devastated

Raven Feels Apr 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, never give me:]

search the olds

never the least

clung onto hopes I hope to cheer

drag the stick and flick them bright

get the ignite and force a light for to be fight

Rollercoaster Dec 2020
Life is attempting to walk down the stairs in darkness.
You can get better at it if you're familiar with them.
It gets better with time. But what if doesn't?
You'll stumble and fall like a toddler.
feh Oct 2020

          I AM
                     TO YOU
     A SET
                  OF STAIRS.
Guntang Aug 2020
i will be
on my knees
crawling back
crawling back to heaven
on the steps
along the steps
silver steps
silver steps to heaven
pull my corpse
up the stairs
drag my limbs up
all the way to heaven
let the blood run
seeking new paths
my blood will lead you
all the way to heaven
stairs of white
glazed in red
let your eyes
all the way to heaven
falling upwards
up to you
my mind
must now have
lost its way to heaven
JGuberman Apr 2020
Will anyone remember how I placed the empty mug
On our bannister
At the top of the stairs.
Like everything now,
It was waiting
Like all of us,
To be cleansed
To be filled
To be emptied
And start again.
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
by Michael R. Burch

... Among the shadows of the groaning elms,
amid the darkening oaks, we fled ourselves ...

... Once there were paths that led to coracles
that clung to piers like loosening barnacles ...

... where we cannot return, because we lost
the pebbles and the playthings, and the moss ...

... hangs weeping gently downward, maidens’ hair
who never were enchanted, and the stairs ...

... that led up to the Fortress in the trees
will not support our weight, but on our knees ...

... we still might fit inside those splendid hours
of damsels in distress, of rustic towers ...

... of voices of the wolves’ tormented howls
that died, and live in dreams’ soft, windy vowels ...

Published by The Chariton Review

Keywords/Tags: Childhood, dreams, enchanted, stairs, fortress, trees, damsels, maidens, towers, wolves, howls, oaks, elms, paths, pebbles, playthings, toys, moss
Third step up
On the stairs

A favourite
Perch, for phone

And cups of tea

I sit there now
As I sat there then

With the women
Of my genealogical line

There is a heritage
In my blood

Of sitting on stairs
Whilst sharing time
Day 334
Next page