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DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, change an expensive new page:|

the supposed
dealt a past to show
regret heat like ice
proved again the mad world diced
legs pretentious
hands luxurious
an expensive new page
even but odd
white with a black dot
not the same
memories different taste
stairs dusted with gold
prefer the dilapidates of the old
heights skied thrown
made me short in ago
no track of trees
for their people not the kid in me
graffiti walls misshaded my colors in vain
ached to the smell of the comforting plain
lost myself in nature
miss the nature in me a wild flavor
green lawn muffled cries
laughter of strangers away lies
travel in time
but the clock not mine
night memories flood in veins and dive
painted stars up---the daylight dims and hides
wish a come back to the undone feels
awoke four years in no permission in steal
answers disconnected
fought confusion and blended
hearts alone in the dark to pay
maybe awaiting the longed stark on that Saturday

FC Azaele May 8
White walls
Does anybody see them too?
Locked in
as I am in my head
no way of escape
no way of death

White walls...
No single mark, No mess
It's so bright
perhaps for me,
this is death
Jay M Apr 20
I am not coal to be pressured
And form into a diamond
I am human,
Under enough crushing pressure
For ever so long
Never to let up
I will break
For I am flesh and bone
Not of rot and stone

If I am to break
My dear little bones
The pieces must be put back together
Held in tender care behind walls
Before they can heal again
To become stronger than before

So, mind the walls
For I am healing
They will come down when I am ready
When my bones have mended
Strengthened anew.

- Jay M
April 20th, 2021
Please don't break my walls yet- I'll take them down when I'm ready.
I paint these walls
in shades of grey
The color gives life
to such walls
I thought I'd try
to go bold
but the walls
had best to be
in shades of grey
Now my job is done
The paint is dry
the cupboards look
so good against the walls
The owner is happy
and pays me well
Job well done
© Jennifer L DeLong 🦏
Bell Apr 16
yestereve we succame
A lengthy ballad of longing
formerly one of obstinance
flared in a cacophony of passion

Whilst usually twirling in a seemly epitome fashion,
yestereve a caprice thought laid heavy on hearts
as there was no doubt of desire
nor were there objections to her
for even when my affections consumed you
lady desire was just an inexorable

yestereve she picked petals from a Sinensis blossom
there went the pain
any semblance of grudge
along with sanity
and lastly, the walls as carefully constructed as that of Pyramus and Thisbe's
such vulnerability unmatched
for your sweet scent lulled me from the arms of reason
for reason, although safe,
is the most intricate and fragile part of the ballad
and the first to fall victim to the cascade

What a fool I must be to have gladly forgotten the kinks of your hands
or the freckles on the back of your neck that form a perfect triad.
The way your upper lip curls when you grin
made my glissade blissful and passionate
Your flustered twirl
the very epitome of aubade

Ignorant of the harsh retombe of reality
Your flustered face En L'air
Every touch a pleasant surprise that formed a grand symphony

A moment of unfiltered emotion
A heavenly ballad
so cruelly of yestereve.
twas hard to replicate this feeling after knowing how it all ends
When I can find in this world a piece of truth and a knowing of trust then , I will be free of the burdens of my walls built so high I cannot see
When , I can find love with passion & truth then my walls will begin
to crumble
When this worlds comforts me & I can feel hope & a bit of peace
These walls will fall & my soul
will be set free
I hope I find this serenity
I desire this to be
So mote it be © Jennifer L Delong 8/15/18
There’s poetry on my walls
Brightening up the halls
I reread one every day
I survey the words as I lay on my bed
Thinking of what I could have written instead
So many words going through my head
In the end, I still place them back up on the wall
Some of them I end up crumpling into a ball
And ripping them off my wall
Then I recall
When I wrote them
And how I felt like a sparkling gem
I tape them back together
Straighten the creases
And taping the pieces
When I look at my wall
I no longer feel small
Treat every piece of poetry as a precious gem. Because it is.
The spaces in between
Claim to be memory and dream
Though I can feel the walls around me
Things are not as they would seem

Addie D Feb 18
I keep looking
I keep drawing
hanging onto memories
(they're slipping away)
The starless night scene
illuminated by city lights -
a small canvas
I keep at my bedside table.
A Christmas polaroid, a photo taken
by the tree
two years in a row.
The memory of home
it's slipping away.

I keep looking,
keep staring
at the unfamiliar faces
i put up
trying to connect.
Pretty eyes,
pretty lips,
dimples and freckles cheeks -
I'll never be like them,
I'll never have them
Then what's the point?
to keep looking,
searching for memories
never made
never will.

i don't like empty walls
ugly stains filling a void

is there anyone
to erase it? -
my dark stain -
cover it?
paint it?

nothing can cover the empty walls
but the memory
of me.
Something different I'm trying. If anyone wants to let me know on anything I can improve or has general thoughts, please send a message or a comment :) Thank you for reading, I hope you like it!
Mrs Timetable Jan 30
Like a broken
Empty dollhouse
Fully exposed for everyone see
Walls down
I peer inside...
And there is nothing
But sad loneliness
A giant 200 year old tree fell on a beautiful two story home I admired for years and now they are tearing it down. It was very eerie seeing inside the empty home. All the front walls were gone.  It looked helpless.
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