Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ever standing
body lithe, strong
trained to strike

too dashing for peeling paint
old verandas
slow-paced hamlet

waiting in country town
place to whizz past
road to tourist hub

how does his tale read
did he pay
for assault

struck the frame
holder of *****
spawning breath

cold fury
for scenes of his mother
thrown down

stain his every stance
grabbing mail swiftly
ahead of arrival

panther muscles
no more the crouching lad
shuddering

her screams
bounce off walls
as mother's body slumps

broken bottle scars
left to clean up the mess
as he leaves for school
forage into
fictional possibility -
penned
with deep respect
for David
of village
post office
Yanamari Nov 2018
Twice struck by stone.
Thrice in the twice,
Too close in proximity
To call home.
The night is young and
The world is vast,
I will not go to sleep tonight.

Twice struck by stone,
Once from the East and
Twice to the West.
My chest has become overwhelmed by
The swirling blood in my heart,
Tonight I will not fall asleep.

Steps forward turn into steps backwards,
Tonight will be a sleepless night.

Twice struck by stone,
In the last two days.
Many more do I own,
I lay down on alone,
Too many thrown
For me to remember
All through which I've grown.
Accustomed to the stones against my
Skin,
Flesh and
Bones;
Tonight,
I will not fall asleep.
K Balachandran Jun 2018
day’s dagger struck deep,
hot,white, blood splashes on  earth;
run to night’s shelter!
Obscrea May 2018
Palms sweaty,
Knees weak,
Pulse beating-
Faster and faster.

All I can think of
Is you and I don't
Know what to do-
I hate being in love.
Jac Feb 2018
The darkness under my eyes
reveals for the observant
my ongoing struggle of
the way of going, being and finding
for the majority it is yet concealed
under a mask I appear
looking bluntly bliss

Around me is a cycle
spinning worlds all over
dazed and confused I turn
as lightning it hits
leaving a burned inside
with tension through the veins
I lay struck but awake
me

on asphalt roads
she paraded me
what clown
am
i

her man muscles
squeezed me

what moisture from sky
that her teardrop be found
without
falling
when
am
i


structured feel me
what you have
sculpted
this
you
are
poetry scent


carry me through your next belly
for it is here
on
the
mountain


i have been waiting
time has pressed
on
my
chest


sing to me
of
vulutures

sing to me of thieves


what is this that you have chosen to take from me
that my line be defiled of meaning
that your thought crumble on me
what ocean have i drown you in


all these questions
we're asked
of
me


yes
we are
asked
of
me
ride
on
me
this
fine road she paved
?





















...
..
.
under thunder
...
Britney Lyn Jan 2018
Cannot sleep, all these memories are haunting me; purple and blue, a gift from you.
Will they stay? When will they fade?
To die like the happiness that seems to have left me, oh so heavy.
Take this heart, stomp out all the little pieces you created, all the pieces that you hated.
Hide my face away from the hidden, show my to only the blind.
Trust is not something that is easily given, especially from this heart of mine.
Lying on the ground, where you stuck me down; battered, betrayed, I pray for the day.
Someone save me, for I am too shattered to do so myself, someone save me from this life that is my ****.
Help.
I wrote this piece 6 years ago today.
Nick Moser Jan 2018
Love is like trying to catch a train,
All while standing on the tracks.
You are fascinated with how fast everything is moving,
But also, how slow it is moving all the same.
Everyone is yelling things at you.
So many people are telling you what to do.
You want to move,
You want to jump out of the way,
But nobody ever wants to miss their train.
I don't want to miss my train
Next page