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Trevor Locke Nov 2017
III. Memoriams

Along the walls the rich dead have their names,
some brazen, gilt or carved in polished stone.
Large monuments displaying all their wealth,
which, by their widow's orders were set up,
and are the handiwork of chartered men,
whose many hours of toil have brought this show
and made the lasting icons of the dead.
But on the white stone pillars you will find
the epitaphs of far more poorer folk
who have, by their own slow and humble ways,
etched out the record of their bye-gone days.
Part of a longer poem
Victor Harvelle Dec 2016
She is home,
four wheels
initials in the back
the boys call her home
she has always been there
the one thing they've always had
the eldest rebuilds her,
calls her baby
the younger falls asleep in her passenger seat
the impala is his home
she has seen the boys at their best
and their worst
And she will be there when it's over.
The feels.
Victor Harvelle Dec 2016
Blue eyes burning into ethereal green
they stare for minutes,
a crisp ocean- pure and strong
battling,
battling against an uncontrollable forest
locked together
speaking volumes without making sound
beckoning,
beckoning for the other to hear
unspoken words of love

Their eyes telling a story
a story their voices wont dare speak
too afraid the other might resent it

unspoken attraction
eyes locked in combat
words not coming out but always there.

Blue eyes burning into ethereal green
they stare for minutes,
a crisp ocean- pure and strong
battling,
battling against an uncontrollable forest
locked together
speaking volumes without making a sound
beckoning,
beckoning for the other to hear
unspoken words of devotion

Both are too afraid to hear the other
one fearing loss,
the other, rejection

fates always entangling
they are bound-
they share a profound bond
stronger then the strongest metal,
lit up in a flame of hope

Blue eyes burning into ethereal green
they stare for minutes,
a crisp ocean- pure and strong
battling,
battling against an uncontrollable forest
locked together
speaking volumes without making a sound
beckoning,
beckoning for the other to hear
unspoken words of promise
Victor Harvelle Dec 2016
Pools of enchantment, that is what your eyes hold.
Inept hands, reach to hold, grasping mine like a life line.
All I ask is that, when your pools of green enchantment look into my own seas of blue,
you will never hide from me, and beg me please to stay.
envydean Nov 2015
He’s all green eyes
The type that sparkle
In the early morning sun
That reflect with love
And bravery and protection

He’s all light freckles
That dance across
His nose and cheeks
That can be counted
As galaxies in the universe

He’s all lean muscle
The kind that is
Built naturally
From years of hunting
And fighting evil things

He’s all sadness and defeat
After losing his brother
Just one too many times
And losing all he loves
All the **** time

He’s all Winchester
Stubborn and selfless
Damaged and dangerous
Protective and brave
He’s Dean Winchester
written for @deanyw on Tumblr for winning my November Blog of the Month :)
envydean May 2015
I feel it pulse in my arm
Feel the anger course my veins
Try and fight the urge to snap

The Mark never settles
It’s always there, nagging
Trying to get me to ****

History repeats itself
I vow never to let it happen
Never to **** my brother
Stormy Bailey May 2015
Hush little Sammy, don't say a word,
Momma's still watching even after she burned.

And I know Daddy seems real mad,
but since mommas been gone he's been real real sad.

And I know you wanted to marry that girl,
but she's with mommy and that must hurt.

And big brother Dean keeps selling his soul,
then daddy dies and you lose control.

And you meet an Angel of the Lord named Cas,
and he keeps bringing your brother Dean back.

And now Dean's hurting everyone,
and The Mark of Cain rests on the righteous son.

But though brotherly love transcends any curse,
The darkness has come to destroy our earth.

But its ok Sammy cause mommas still here,
and I know you two can fight this so dont you fear*.
Supernatural themed lullaby I wrote after the season 10 finale.
Hannah Lorrelle Jan 2015
I don't want prince charming
suited up in armor.
I want a flannel clad man
who will help me
keep my demons in line
and I can help him tame
his inner monster.
You Disney girls keep
looking for Charming,
I'll keep searching for a Winchester.
Duke Thompson Nov 2014
Sitting in white shirt
(Loosened yuppie Windsor knot)
Armchair laughing
Having realized the grand joke of life

Satisfied little Sanskrit honey
Is it a bohdi tree or burning bush
(When really are one and same)
Don't think too hard

Suburban white boy dreams of trap houses
With tie over shoulder
As the tv says it prevents
***** on tie

Little air planes
Round and white
Hard pressed (to explain)
Make one fly at high speed
Get it? (never mind inside joke laughing)

Talks like a gang banger
Can't take it seriously
Little big boy equals not shook
Drinking rot gut tallboys

Days after and minutes away
Zehaf-Bibeau war memorial
Winchester repeater in hand
Supposed ideological threat needed
Expand the police state
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