Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Awakened by the restlessness of wanderlust
I watched colours fly by untouched windows
The skies were a blue I’d never seen before
Right in between the ***** of dawn and a starry sea
My arms covered in goosebumps induced by the sight I’d seen
The sun was playing games of hide and seek
And the clouds were its’ mischievous companions
But my heart was still at unease, as my mind wandered to a thoughtless dream
What would the sky be like on the other side of the sea?
amuba Jan 3
I write this small piece
As I sit here and sing
My mood flies and cries
Unknowing the truths or lies
Blocked my vision with your words
Your expectations and your wants

I guess to save myself from this pit
I need to dig a hole something deep
A hole in you and a hole in me
I will fill it with the same thing so that you can see
The same thing I aspire one day to be
And one day we will rejoice the fruit of being free
Let me be free, let me be one, please do not separate me with my vision and yours.
Nathalie Dec 2018
The easy way is through
Every challenge or obstacle
that you fear, only remains
disempowering if you allow it too

You are the master of your ship
You set the sails in the direction
that you want to take, trust
in the guidance of your heart

You co-create with a benevolent
force, that force is what you
believe it to be ...that belief
becomes truly powerful

Create a vision for your life
Nurture it daily
Believe in yourself and know
that you make all your dreams
come true.

Pauper of Prose Dec 2018
I stepped pass my reason
As it writhed on the ground
And from it oozed
All the past voices
Howling with so many how’s
How to Love, how to Live
How to Dress, how to Deceive
How to tailor the parts of me for Society
But as it sounded I wondered
Why such reason
Ever was ever part of me
For I heard not a single note of mine
Being played from it
Steve Page Dec 2018
I'm not so very special
I'm no way near essential
The world can cope without me
Blink and you just may miss me

I'm not a key ingredient
I'm pretty much redundant
It continues to amaze me
that *** can bother with me

I find He always has the knack
to dig deep way down in the sack
and lift up what he finds there
to a place He has made where

no matter how far you've fallen
how far lost you have become
He clearly still remembers you
the uniqueness that He placed in you

So don't listen to the hecklers
don't dare settle for any less
Tune in only to His voice
and know this: you are His choice
Dont believe the hate.  You are chosen.
Monica Sarpong Dec 2018
Don’t you just want to hold him close to you? Or is it only me?
Look at those eyes, as bright as a polished diamond brightening the finger of an awaiting bride.  
You can’t look at them twice.
Holy ***! when I thought there was no perfection.  
Well mark these words, “he is perfect”.
If looks could be a symbol of heroism,
gift him the warrior’s lantern for he descends as a hero.

The beautiful smile drawing your lips into a curvy appreciating grin.  
A man in a goddess ensemble.
My eyes are heavenly blessed to behold such a testament.
Oh! That amazing voice, let he sing me amazing grace and I will amazingly be graceful.
Beautiful perfect lips moving from side to side whilst he speaks.  
The voice, violently drawing you down your knees.

Oh, sweet heavens, why curses with a saint of looks?
There exist no ounces of perfection enough to deserve his glorious presence.
And a gentleman too, goddess of my ancestors, what great temptation.  

Permit me to do nothing but sit to watch him speak.  
Perfection, the being brought to tempt my honour.
Daydreaming the movements and triggers tingling inside my untamed structure.
Reminiscing on what could, would and want with no sense of shame nor control.
My eyes dazzling without shame nor guilt.
Mesmerised and tempted to act in accordance to this electric pull.

Oh my ***!!!, My alarm goes off, please tell me it’s not a dream.
I wrote this poem at the age of 16.  That's a pretty long time ago. Of course, due to maturity,  I have had to update it but I still get the same buzz.  Enjoy!!!
AuEcologica Dec 2018
To let dreams be just imagination, to let it be nothing but a thought; abolishing it from being an aspiration—the core to which whom you are.

Is there anything more devilish?

Than to let yourself fall…
                                    To let your dreams be just dreams.
                                                         However silly they are.
To let the little coffee shop be unreachable; let the song never be sung in a hall. It is all for nought if you cannot embrace the silliness of it all.

Hellfire life cannot be the judge.

The world should never be the victor.
                                Never be the solution.
                                                 The truth.
Your dream, your life; your love—your heart.
The little coffee shop is silly but warm.
Knit Personality Dec 2018
Sugar plum visions of fairies like snowflakes, with candy cane
              cabins and cookies in bed,
Ballet à la Balanchine (red ***** and blue *****) and tickle my fancy
               and gingerbread head.
I am the candle,
You are the flames,

I give you vision,
You give me strength.

You are the reason,
That I was made,

But if you get too close,
Then I'll melt away.
Older poem
Next page