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Maniacal Escape Jun 2020
Dripping weekend wrist marks
Dance in the happy rain
Booming base and bleeding
Let it rush down your face
Feel it trickle down your tights
It’ll all be over now.
Colm Oct 2018
Symphonic fountain
Work your way
Carve out the hearing, sound a stream
And flow within
Trickling, never dropping or dripping
But moving steadily towards the heart
To meet the rising steam
As lillypads mourning
Are pulled by the stem into a watery sea
Let this gentle sound pull me beneath
The surface tense
Until all my former fear are broken
And I am but a rippling sound
Another trickle towards uniformity
Zora symphonic Symphony oneness in the water sound trickle
Phi Kenzie Sep 2018
I can feel it on the nape of my neck
a single drip slip sliding down

Is it me or the heat?

My breathing is shallow
calmly alarmed
afraid to exist past the lips

Nervous of the temperature
this place generates
weathered down to the pore
with no semblance of rest

Did I make a mistake
in not finagling for AC
and laying under layers
japheth Jul 2018
the sound of rain
always calms me
—it drowns out my anxiety.

starting from the roof of my head,
carrying any doubts that get stuck on my skin
gently moves it course through
my arms,
my stomach,
my legs,
and
trickles all the bad memories
down to the gutters of my toes.

the sound of rain
even without it
touching me,
it calms me.

what more
if i went out
and had myself drenched
will i feel it on the outside too?
it’s raining again
Triscuit Dec 2017
The endless trickle down my neck reminds me of you

The memories like warm honey that dry into a sticky mess on my back, pulling me down to earth whenever the next fall is taken

I can't hold in the rasping breaths that plague me, hyperventilation crushing the base of my skull, a fight for my conscience, my concious

I can't see the end of this now as I know it is near, I can hear it. I can taste the bitter synchrony of our thoughts, and I give my final look

One last trickle, my darkest friend.
...
Àŧùl Jan 2016
Indian people are very traditional,
Still they will move with the trend,
Few Indians will often be bipolar.

First they tickle you the hardest,
As bad to trickle down your tears,
Then they change all of a sudden.

Let their fickle-minds deceive you,
You let the sickle-minds hurt you,
Such examples are there but few.
My HP Poem #972
©Atul Kaushal
aazar anis Oct 2014
I have no recourse for the winds of future
Where the embrace of arms
Is closer than France.
Where doused, like leaves in a pond,
we swim freely over voices of youth
that can’t explain love
like knots they can’t untie, undo.

I’ve no remorse for the loss of time
I set sail with my paper boats each day
Into the corners of her mind
Hanging to the corners of her lips
And swinging from the corners of her chin
Till I, myself, am cornered.

But she runs and lies
Between words and whispers
Between timing and silence
And I exist in the space
Between her eyes
Between her lips as they part
To utter fiery words
Or I lie in dried shades with dust of time
Finally, I find her.

Like the winding road inside of me
That leads to laughter and madness
Madness of a holiday where you forget age
One day I’ll forsake you
Like the stolen moon
In a sparrow’s eye
And carry your laughter
Buried deep in the forest of me.

Take me like the pages of a book
You read when you were young
See me as a door
If you don’t know me yet as a
Wall left bare
With an open window.
Kayla Bellinger Jul 2014
I want to melt away
Like an ice block in your palm
To trickle between your fingers
Leaving a chilly snail trail on your wrist

You'll blot me with a cloth
And wring me into the damp sink
To splash against the tears
Of the leaky cold tap

But what use are tears
When you're dripping down the drain?
They're only salt water
And I'm already headed for the sea

Not even the vast ocean
Knows the joys of being free
Brielle Byrne Jul 2014
Streams run in rivulets
into the moist crevices
of her blemished skin
trickleling through the
curvasious channels
down her naked sides
while tiny droplets
of clarity continue to flow
through the valleys as she
sit quietly under the heavy
rain from silver springs
cleansing her past anxieties
drenching her in bliss
showers after a long day

— The End —