Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jenna Feb 2019
Men can have anyone but Her,
pink scattered petals fly
My dear, your eyes flutter
at a complete standby
she starts to splutter
when I kneel below the blue sky
and began to mutter
she lets out a faint cry
and hearing that, it made
My heart melt like butter
Who's getting married soon?
Julian Delia Nov 2018
Hello?
Is there anything left? Body heat, perhaps?
Is there a pulse or a deft heartbeat?
Any rough oceans of emotions?
You sit there, phone to your right,
Laptop in front of you, adjusted to the adequate height.

You’re motionless for most of the day,
Inebriated or mindless for most of the night.
Your only movements change channels,
You’re lonely, for your soul never travels.
You remain in the same place,
Occupy the same space, the same nook;
The only humanity you see, you don’t touch or feel, you simply look –
No interaction, only to laugh and mock like a rogue crook.

Your friends and loved ones are images on your phone,
It feels like solitude is all you’ve ever known.
You pose for the camera, but only fool yourself;
You close yourself off, you scoff at those who show emotions.
When was the last time you let yourself be vulnerable?
When was the last time you didn’t pretend you’re unstoppable?

Have you ever breached the barriers of your blindsides?
Have you ever gleaned beyond those white lines?
Please, take off those slave-forged shoes,
Run freely in the soil, you have nothing to lose.
Switch off your mobile prison cell,
Don’t let yourself drift back into this iniquitous hell.
Embrace your soul, peer inside;
Be alive, don’t cower and hide.
Well, are you?
joyous bliss*
joyous bliss
soon they'll be wed
in joyous bliss

rings exchanged
as a sign of love
circles symbolizing
everlasting love

joyous bliss
joyous bliss
soon they'll be wed
in joyous bliss

two souls connecting
to an elated union
by a love so blessed
of communion

joyous bliss
joyous bliss
soon they'll be wed
in joyous bliss

days of happy promise
they'll behold
on their journey
paved with gold

joyous bliss
joyous bliss
soon they'll be wed
*in joyous bliss
NB: My friends Eva and John will soon be getting married.
Martin Narrod May 2016
A skin of threes your majesty
Pepperdine and cypress trees
Commit to me next summer please
My needs of us together lover
Let us wed us into we.
Liam C Calhoun May 2016
The moon behind palm
Smiles, now,
Like the first time I’d met my
Second wife;

My second life,
My second shot at something,
And in seconds, like lightning,
Lost to dawn.

Ushered came the day that’d drag
When – The sun could burn,
The sun would burn;
The thirst, always there to remind.

So I’d wait on the lawn,
Under that same palm,
Smile; later,
To wed come dimpled stars.
In remembrance of nights under palm trees.
cait-cait Dec 2014
your taste lingers thick
on my tongue,
like the wedding cake
placed before me;
half-eaten, and
mostly smeared,
as i think of what
he could've done for me,
but didn't
i went to a friend's fancy greek wedding and the cake was terrible. i can still feel it in my stomach, yuck.
Ellie Geneve Jun 2014
To dearest,
I hope you can view me more clearly after this poem:

2 pm                 7/14/1788
I am lying down wondering why you are not replying
I wrote you a letter worth crying

3 pm                 7/15/1788
I heard your voice
In nothing but noise

4 pm                7/16/1788
I remembered what you said--

5 pm                 7/17/1788
I prayed for us to be wed

6 pm                 7/18/1788
I got tired of waiting

7 pm                  7/19/1788
I heard-- I cried

8 pm                  7/20/1788
You died.
The loss of a loved one in old times. News travelled slowly, but never did love.
Daylight 4U2C May 2014
People diein' on the streets.
****** puddles at our feets.

But we could be a family.
We could be a whole.
We could be together.
But no one could be cold.

If we could live on an island,
no hate,
no guns,
no war.
We'd look back and wonder,
what was it all for?

People diein' on the streets.
****** puddles at our feets.

Gangs,
tempts,
nudes,
exempts.

We sit at desk,
eating or eaten.
we laughed at or laughing.
beating or bleedin'.

We know the truth, but call it cruel.
The cruel one is we, the blind fool.

People diein' on the streets
****** puddles at our feets.

Who shot the most guns?
Who then killed them all?
Who didn't mind a casualty?
Who could be responsible?

"Not me!" we cry,
"I'm a good soul."
But even if we declined,
can I be told where they go?
No one WANTS to die. For someone to do it, there will be an opponent. A THREAT.    That's what this poem is about.

— The End —