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Elise Jackson Dec 2021
"time for the quarterly internet rabbit-hole of your early life.

are you going to spend the next hour looking for pictures of an old mall?

or by finding out the real reason why the first movie theater burned down eleven years ago?

or perhaps look at how your favorite grocery store has changed?

how about we look at the once empty fields that are now occupied by mattress stores?

then will you end it by crying yourself to sleep?
wondering why you cannot remember any of it all?
why you cannot make sense of being a child?
did you ever become conscious before 2012?
are all these hazy memories just dreams?
did you even exist in any of it?



what are you even searching for?"



anything.
i want to see it all again.
Estelline Dec 2021
While I lie awake
In the dead of night
My body shakes
Nothing seems to stop the pain
I’ll tell myself it’s okay
But I can’t seem to convince my brain

I’ll turn up the music
Trying to block it all out
It bounces off my bedroom walls
Leaving a sweet sound of the ivory keys
Flowing through my mind
Slightly tainted by the echoes of talking lovers
Reminding me of you
And how free I felt
When you were next to me

Did you feel the sparks flying
That night we went driving
Singing in town
With the windows down
That’s when I knew I wanted you to be mine

And when you asked for my favorite song
My mind went blank
Cause you're my favorite sound

But your heart is so hard to find
So mines going back into hiding
It’s a lost fight
Hopefully this music will make me feel alright.
eurus Nov 2021
i am but a mere stranger in this ghost town
sitting on my throne with a silly little crown
here's to their words that cut to the bone
and the psychedelic skies guiding me home
She lived in a town without sunrises and sunsets
Where beauty is erased from the houses and offices


All infrastructure is devoted to might and prosperity
All activity, a collapsing dream, a fading memory


Her skin was translucent, letting in harsh light
Tadpoles multiplied in her garden, frogs had their feasts


Quietly, quietly, quietly. Making sure not to disturb the predators
The dogs and the cats pass them by without a glance


Theodora had a dream. An ambition or a vision?
In this town it makes no difference. 


Everything is set to collapse into a black hole
Dave Robertson Jul 2021
Leaf litter sheep ****
verdant verges
flowers that smell foreign but aren’t
wet earth telling truth
moves to concrete and tarmac
who lie often
and heat is turned to memory
steps from animal tracks to animals tracked
have tumble drier breeze
mocking those prior flowers
**** smoked appreciatively
to thank the peace
as if laws don’t exist
and the lick of car exhaust
to recall poison
and then home
Ashley Moor Feb 2021
I’d rather be an empire builder
a lonely artisan
in the deserts outside
of Las Cruces
with the sunshine on my back
chasing destiny down
a steep cliff of Mesquite
and milkweed
to Mexico City
where the children smile
in the streets
and then on to the Guadalupe Mountains
where I’ll feel
the loneliness of my dreams
and make my way back
to Small Town America
where I’ll sit on the front porch
and revel in
a much simpler destiny
as you walk through the front gate
to greet me.
Tony Tweedy Jan 2021
I thought to write a poem about the town where I do live,
a brief poetic description is what I had hoped to give.

I thought it would take but a minute, so very little time,
but I ran into a problem because Whyalla has no rhyme.

I thought to tell its history of ships and iron and steel,
but Whyalla hasn't got a rhyme at least not a word that's real.

There is an old story told of how Whyalla got its name,
it tells of two Afghan's asking their god why they even came.

I could have told of the bush that surrounds the whole of town,
But Whyalla not having any rhymes just really let me down.

There is nature in abundance and some very scenic coast,
but you cant rhyme Whyalla so I didn't stand a ghost.

It isn't everyone's idea of a cultural oasis or a hidden jewel,
I could have told you good things if poems had no rhyming rule.

I would encourage you to visit Whyalla, if you have the time,
it is really quite an amazing place, even if it doesn't rhyme.

It's just a small country town just part of South Australia,
but to sell its attraction via a poem can only end in... failure.
Another escapee from the asylum that my head holds.
kimkt22 Jan 2021
i wanna touch your hands
and dance with you tonight
our feet touch the ground
dance around through city and lights
now i look at the stars
to keep you in my life
i'm frighten now
without you here tonight
Moe Jan 2021
A faint tiny tear
Can feel like a replacement arm
Leg or eye
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