Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
trf Jun 2018
sit, relax and let your spine melt
into a cushion.
take me down to the bottom,
underneath your feet. Breathe.
do you feel it
drain down into your toes
and out your foot prints?
rest assured, that's my humble abode,
where you plant below, i stomp above.
rest assured, that's my humble abode.

we can dance on the landscape,
between the earth and undertow,
and boogie rhythms until late,
let's just not talk about it,
make peace with parasites,
the living and the dead,
do you feel it escape?
let's just not talk about it.
rest assured, that's peace with paradigms.
dina Jun 2018
you were my lighthouse
out on the sea
you were my lighthouse
calling for me

you were my lighthouse
out on the bluff
you were my lighthouse
when times were rough

when the waves mercilessly crashed
up onto my sides
and pulled me down under,
deep beneath the tides

you were my lighthouse
standing true and tall
you were my lighthouse
with me through it all
we all need a lighthouse in life :,)
smitten with a forsaken long lost love
     *** plus years ago,
aye since didst roam'n o'er hill and dale
     as one heart broken beau

twas being cow warring utter oxymoron,
     whereby thy perfect match I do
frankly admit foolishly out sourcing
     of (good NOT FAKE nor bad) grief emo

shun hull distress disgraceful,
     which hide de lee recognize coveted prime mate,
     (who shared love of playing scrabble,
     and born same January 13th birthdate,

     yet six orbits thy senior)  
     mine golden opportunity to lose,
     viz ma mish mashed aggravating huff flew
vee yam this then

     young asinine buck unwittingly  
     inflicted long forgot 'til
     ear layer t'day thee spouse
     showed me an photograph,

     when suddenly this lix spittle
     curmudgeonly bard
     unexpectedly experienced
     abysmal love stricken agony
  
     (that despite pro missing to pledge -
     while taking a knee -
     troth Abby Robin - hoo
became thy lawful legal wife - of Jew

whoosh heritage juiced like me, and knew
instantaneously upon
     setting eyes this then boyish lad -
     hood bid tootle loo

at bachelorhood, when she eyed thyself
     (wedded now deux plucks decades),
     though no moo
nee tomb aye name,

     thus har courtship rocky, hen new
idea how tubby affectionate,
     hence early married life  
     pitched 'tween Scylla and Charybdis

fondness (albeit ex post facto) hike queue
this poetic beat (fashionably late love note)
ye, whose Capricorn astrological sign
     didst bid eternal happiness
    now delayed repercussions I rue!
(randomly drawn years gone by
without gifted with pipe dream *** of gold)

Paradise visage and eyes
   a bulge with dollar signs
   whetted imagination
   PowerBall ticket bought

expected usual outcome
   after next drawing
   to yield monetary naught
temptation for instant millions

   human foible to reach
   elusive *** of gold
   streak of universal desire  
   potential riches
   overtook rational self

   delusions of grandeur caught
aloud, enabled and provided flirtation
   illusory fate to experience rich draught
envisioned emancipation
   nondenominational penury
   distant battle fought
attacking hard scrapple existence wrought!

At core
precious legal tender chronically
   short supply within
   this (then) family of four
though hard times, eye desired at least
   another son or daughter
urge (long silenced this ram

   ewe who) vehemently didst roar
boot budding young girls
   I whole-heartedly loved and adored,
who rushed into opened arms,
   whenever back from trivial pursuits

   nearly squeezing out digested gore,
when casually and nonchalantly
   turned key to open front door
akin to finest crafted clock work
   sounding time of day

   they danced and frolicked
   like kittens or puppies
   bringing newspaper and/or
   dem golden (ha) slippers
   sharing silly concocted faux pa lore

inviting me to play
   make believe games on floor
enjoying revelry
   without keeping score
yet…creating memories
   I forever store!  

Financial straits
   made unsettled existence hand to mouth
   fantastically generated grandiose aspirations
   successful life frequently headed south.

Creative endeavors
   found excitement and linguistic pleasure
   thru attempt to pry poem
   or prose from mind
deliberated semblance to communicate

   and extract idea from cranial rind
words synchronized suitably
   in poetic third eye bind
readers may espy hidden puns
   within rhyme lined

with challenges or commiserate
   and complement
   via words of positive kind
although large sum of money
   would be dog send

   delivered by one
   blessed angel in disguise
   redemption and salvation
   rued bing considerate regarding
   thankful escape out poverty grind.

Much rather be cursed
   with excess wealth
deliverance to life,
   liberty and mental health
depravity foreign concept
   never to rue by stealth,
nor can money buy spiritual wealth!
PS Jun 2018
I do so well without you
Then you come back again
I say that I am fine
I sit and play pretend.
I go off to parties
I try to flirt with men
I do so well without you
That it’s hard not to pretend.
And, silly me, I loved you
And, silly me, I care
For you and all around you
But love is never fair.
I do so well without you
Then back you come around
I see you in the distance
You look for common ground.
I say I want to see you
I say I want to call
I sit alone and wonder
If I was anything at all?
And, silly me, I loved you
I thought I meant the world
To me, you were my everything
But I was not your girl.
I do so well without you
So very, very well.
Until you say hello again
And I’m under your spell.
And, silly me, I talk to you
I often bare my soul
And, silly me, I love you
But you don’t deserve to know.
I am sad
Bryce Jun 2018
And when I met that girl in San Francisco
Off a dusty little pier
with rotting wood
and squawking seals
And screaming bayside wind

She caught me off-tropics
and danced with the grace
of a palm tree
lines between the quaked
concrete
off telegraph avenue
On an obscuring Sunday morning

and no
she didn't go
to church or any silly thing
like a temple or synagogue
She said those were no places
for god

God was the trees

We smoked cigarettes and got off to each other's
carcinogenic practices
oxidizing a little faster in conjunction with hopeful
Formaldehyde
Deriding the formalities
of small talk and trivialities

She liked her guitars with nickel-wound strings
I with nylon
But I couldn't play songs
that sounded any good with them
while she could
and did.

and girl did it ever sound good

She'd laugh at the contests on the radio
while we drove on a half-moon
to half-moon
full and whole of ourselves
We'd stopped in the lobby of a cheap motel
And waltzed to background
muzak
wacked out of our minds
Sniffing in deep huffs of subliminal
divinity
Understanding
loving
that mind-numbing
monotony

muzak...
ppsh.
Who ever really listened to that?

And then she left
at the end of one fine winter day
in a cloudless sky I waved
watched her plane
skip off
towards the edge of a pale blue horizon
back south
to warmer climes
to wherever she truly stayed
The tugging on my heartstrings
chimed grotesque in
precise
D minor.
sankavi Jun 2018
and in a room filled with people
i still feel lonely

i want you
i need you
i only want to be lonely with you
Willow Jun 2018
If the day arrives
When you feel ready
And the time clicks on
I’ll be here

If the sun rises
When you feel happy
And the waves role on
I’ll be here

If the tree shadows
When you feel worthless
And the flowers wilt
I’ll be here

If the sun sets
When you feel exhausted
And the birds sleep
I’ll be here

If the moon rises
When you feel alive
And the stars sing
I’ll be here

If the day arrives
When you feel ready
And the moments collide
I’ll be here

You know where I’ll be.
(a salvation for my then junior high school youngest daughter afflicted with cognitive dissonance, who over the intervening years (mor'n half dozen Earth orbitz  ago), I dashed off this poem witnessed nothing short of miraculous transformation evinced and witnessed by profound learning displaying significant aptitude cognition).

twas spawned fondness
   for above named young lady,
   when she got assigned
   to thine offspring

a glint of genuine virtue grew
   into shimmering orb
   of brilliant radiance
   if accorded sound - would ring

the tune of countless angels,
   which imagined beatific,
   Democratic, fantastic...sounds
   generated via many wing

heavenly music filling  
   cosmos with joy as august aural,
   choral, epochal...tones
   would zippily zing

from across universe
spurring one me silly mortal
   to contrive this verse
attempting to capture her
   aura, charisma, enigma...purse

sue wing dynamic link
   with progeny did nurse
emotional and spiritual value
   dedication she did immerse

latent social services skill
   plus natural radiance
   a blessed hire
at Central in Norristown, Pennsylvania,
   whose visits i miss lyre
plucking voice

   stilled concern for precious Shana Punim,
   who aspires to challenge and grow
   this father may spill tears
his lessoned fatherhood role
   n'er did aye tire

and glad fate that though our paths
   will probably not criss cross
curiosity will gnaw within noggin,
   and possibly rub raw minor loss

viz, the persevering
   maiden USA touch of Kim
   lichened to moss
in her rooted cultivation of care
   toward biological lass a lucky toss

of the genetic combination
   from Matthew
   and Abby Harris our jewel
shimmering facets of luminescence
   reminding me human

   gem stone a kool
aid - priceless staff member
   of human league,
   whose golden presence doth gently rule
without doubt a beloved
   unbridled priceless counterpart
   some lucky guy
   pledging his troth yes – she yule

see stars in her eyes
no doubt disappointment
   felt by other guys
envious of he,
   who snagged Kimberly Hartzell
   so worthy and wise!
the great bard and Elizabethan play wright
begetting complete dramaturgy
     explaining fate hollowly airtight
succor starved, riddled smitten tattered
     sir real body politik blight
under whelming enthusiasm
     witnessed blank quarto copyright
more tragedy than comedy

     visited mine biography to date
     expressed as dearth decayed delight
devoid absent audience
     hip...hip...hooray three chairs to excite
zero non-exhaustive effort
     summoning stagecraft
     imagining hardened faced spectators
     muted nonexistent ovation,

     sans anticlimactic action
     superfluous stage fright,
thus retrospective stance taken
     billeted envisioned anachronistic gunfight
signifying emotional crisis,
     especially high anxiety pained height
incorporating mine every birthday
     newly aged since

     LIX January thirteenth orbitz insight
oppressive ominous gloomy glum
     obscuring highland dale light
whereby substantial sole action
     asper arrival of midnight
celestial curtain call enclosing
     somber static theatrical night
hoop fully explaining deadening

     copious heavy breathing
     followed by extended lapses
     of utter silence outright
spartan mise en scene absent props
     nsync with holographic thespians
     staid theatrics displaying plight
uneventful sleepy representation quite
leaving entire cast

     (singular char actor his shun
     of myself) remaining
     soporific steadfastly right
lee measure for measure
     much ado about nothing
hermetically sealed, NON GMO

     vacuum packed no sight
worth seeing on the twelfth night
starkly barren aimless
     padlocked mortal soul asylum
     no, not even Romeo and Juliet
     love's labor's lost passion

a comedy of errors, viz unbridled trothplight
mock king lear ring alls well that ends well
     where me crushed psyche doth unite
with death vis a vis
     as demise of Julius Caesar
     et tu Brutus I in vite.
Next page