Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Monday’s are pink
Tuesday’s are red
Wednesday’s are blue
Thursday’s are orange.

Friday’s are green
Saturday’s white
Sunday’s are blue
It’s strange, right?
I have many types of synesthesia, and this is just a poem about one type.
Ylzm May 17
in seven of sevens,
in time, times and a half,
from the very first night,
the harvest is completed.

the fruition of the leaven of truth,
once a strange tongue,
coded in familiar languages;
unquenchably burns on altars.

a foreign bride awaits,
the reason a man leaves his family;
love shall be awakened and aroused,
for the time is right!

the light, fully revealed.
a child, a new creation:
King of kings for a thousand years,
then Armageddon!
coronae May 8
my grandmother and i are on the couch.

when i ask about the soft edges in everyone's voice, she tells me,
"it's because these few days are holy."
and i remember my aunt this morning
saying something about how people must meditate
on their savior,
and think about their god.

i look at her now,
at the table with two other people,
their fingers curled in front of them,
their heads bowed,
and words quietly escaping their lips
like prayers they have memorized from the cards in their hands.
there are no saviors to them,
just kings and queens
that lead them into the night.
(but meditation has always been better done late, i guess.)

the dim light hangs above my aunt and her friends like
a numb pain that has settled
in a throat that has been suffocating for centuries
called 'architectural beauty,'
called 'site of sacred things,'
called a photography background for tourists.

the coins bounce across the table
and ring like bells
and my aunt's arms stretch
and rake the thirty silver pieces
into her chest,
thanking luck or fortune
or her god
for a prayer answered,
her friends cursing luck or fortune
or their god
as they gather another set of cards
into their curled fingers.

the words come out in a stream of kings and queens
and numbers.
their mouth spill their heart on the table,
right there - a murmured incantation
of awe
or devotion

or just
silver.

-j.g.

Monday?


Again?


I'm not sure
how much longer
I can do this...

I thought we just had it last week?
Not again...
Madison Apr 15
Would you look at that;
I've lost sleep,
                 Weight,
                         Confidence,
                  Control,
And probably my sanity.
What a **** of a week.
So another week goes by without becoming unexpectedly rich.
That's fine; I'll wait...
Donna Mar 22
Superhero’s..YES
I have four wonderful sons
Each one so different
Totally unconditionally Love my four sons so much , Jake , Conner , Sam and Tommy :-))) im a happy and proud mum <3
Feeling very blessed indeed x
Mitch Prax Mar 15
Monday's here again
and off to work I go to
to do it all again
and countdown
to that next fix.
Next page