Amanda Jun 7
Walking into an
Empty forgotten bar to
Drink your name away
And orders a shot of apple crown because that is my favorite... haha don't mind my silliness.
An emergency macaroon
on a boulevard, in March,

Because my sugar levels dropping,
mind foggy, dopamine high crashing;
because legs aching; I can’t unknot
the multi-coloured tangles this evening;
because yesterday; because I said yes; because.
Because you never said in so many words.

You say there is cloud cover
with chance of rain, but you know there
will be rain because you have a headache.
You can tell but you can’t say.
Submission for the theme 'distance' for The Menteur Anthology
Gray Jun 5
I walked along side the empty sidewalk,
Alone as I’ve always been.
It didn’t bother me as it might have troubled others.
I was used to it time and time again.

The weather that day was cold and grim
Just like how I’ve been feeling prior.
Since everything seemed to blend,
I didn’t realize until the two of us collided.

You were so polite and quickly said, “Oh, I’m so sorry!”
Even though that it was clearly my fault.
I remember nodding timidly, and lowering my hand to help pick you up.
The second you grabbed it was the second my old life melted away.

The next day’s weather was worse,
But it no longer matched how i was feeling.
We walked, not hand in hand, but side by side.
We were both equally as shy and nervous.

How else should have we behaved?
The two of us had only met the day before.
Yet, even i must admit now, I felt like we could have been more.
Perhaps if i said something then we could have been something more.

Soon the sidewalk met the intersection.
Which meant that our paths were to come to an end.
Even though i traveled alone,
I wore a happy grin.
I'm still toying with poems that don't rhyme, and poems that are slightly longer, so oops!
Regan Jun 2
Driving through an untouched place,
The modern era has kept it’s distance,
Mother-nature has taken over.

We arrive to a grassy area,
Only the trees to provide shade,
We strike a match.

We walk aware of the beauty around us,
We walk in an unmodernized place,
No shops, buildings, and factories.

The urban areas have purpose,
But sometimes, just sometimes,
Rural feels more like home.

© Regan
I can’t find my retainer and I’m kinda scared so I wrote this poem instead
Update: it was in my couch.
Pao May 28
lipstick stains
in the driveway is where i lay
every thought about you
everything comes flowing back
to me
your laugh of winters day
is the sound that replays
in my mind all day

the memories of you and i
sitting in the coffee shop downtown
everything comes flowing back
to me

as you left my apartment door
i stood behind you
watching you as you walked away from me
the memories of you and i
stuck on repeat
leaving scars within my heart

sitting in the coffee shop downtown
i never meant for this to happen
i never meant for you to leave me behind
i never meant to fuck things up

lipstick stains is what you left
as you said goodbye
This all started on my iPhone notes where I created a story of being left like in a romantic film. I never explicitly state the location but in my mind is me being left behind in the middle of NYC by a girl that is known for wearing red lipstick. Imagine this as a song because the lines are very simple.
Nylee May 28
Walking the street
the dark blue sky
yellow on eyes
down the street lights
I move forward
with many shadows
beside me


Empty street
haunting feelings
stumbling legs
there are buildings
all around me
all asleep in darkness
no movements
I can hear
my intake of air


The last street
to the house
I call my own
I drag my feet
faster
so I can keep
the fear of unknown
down
.
Footprints left in the sand
here I am walking with the blues
Nowhere specific to go
No thought nor plan beforehand
Naked mind, no body ruse
Before I get real low
A beach walk to wake my talk.

Listening to my inside mind
As one footprint follows
Footprint not too far behind
Moving, just to hide
The loneliness inside

Naked feet, pocketed hands
Imprint a time inside of me
A time of shifting sands
Unsettled like the beach dunes
For awhile, oh so temporarily.
Poem written for a friend who was going through a divorce and to I felt empathy with him. The poem has been published. I made one alteration.
Mary-Eliz May 28
long-legged brothers
daddy long legs, too

hurry, scurry

wait up,
I can't keep up with you

slow down
wait for me

I'm lagging
don't you see


~~~~~~~~~~

read...read...

scurry...scurry

always feeling in a hurry

so many...so much
you write too fast

it's like walk-running
in the past

slow down...
I lag behind it's true

slow down, wait for me
I can't keep up!

I can't keep up with you!
I know I likely miss a lot of real gems but oh lordy! it is hard to keep up. I still have short legs and walk fast :-)
Antino Art May 28
What I like about walking is that
you're free:
no GPS, no machinery

The sidewalk is all you need to move forward
like lines of sheet music to follow

The sound of footsteps
is a sound-track,
a slow-dance
against the scene of buildings on either side,
lamp posts overhead
passing cafe windows with passengers seated within passing time
at the speed of espressos sipped in slow motion

sure, walking is the slower, old-fashioned way to get to where you're going,
but if you want to slow things down,
this is how. Look how it reveals
every crack in the sidewalk
to measure each step with.
Look how it wraps the sounds of the city around you
as a record around a player
to where you hear the song beneath the static.

I wander in circles
to arrive at my center,
my soul-o
the jazz of each step improvised
over the plans that bridge today with tomorrow, burned
in the orange hue of the sunset over downtown-
a sepia photograph
we would have failed to take
had we driven in and out of the skyline at rush hour,
eyes locked on the road ahead, the day
a blur in the rear view mirror

walking is a panoramic experience
that motor vehicles can't replace

It's not so much
an act of movement
as it is of
arriving
at where the music
is coming from
I told you to close your eyes
and follow my voice with your steps

while you closed your eyes
I watched you
with your eyes closed, I spoke
and as I spoke
you walked

walking an  unaware intention
I watched you as you walked
with words, I walked with you
and I watched

for this reason I asked you
that I may enslave you to my stare

I stared at you
without you sighting my eyes
I stared at you
without you knowing my eyes

your face as white as emotion
cutting into threads the darkness
be my canvas, quench my art

yet I skinned you
beauty beneath beauty
layers of love
lavished through a look

And I,

mesmerised by your stare
unrequited and unacquainted
became paralysed by you
and could speak no more

where was I to find more beautiful a word
than the silence before your stare

Yet,

had I searched silence
and knew its sorcery would stop your step
and uncover your stare
I would have spoken into the ears of eternity.

Had I realised the silence was stitched to your eyelids,
Weaved by fingers hung from heaven
That could not hold the rain
I would have prepared my poetry

and had I known the reality of reaping a dream
I would have shielded my heart

for then and there,

you opened your eyes

and I...

I turned my head

Speaking to you,
like I had never known your face
like I had never known your face

but, only the sound of your steps.
Next page