Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
shamamama Jun 2019
We weigh the ways of the woes

We woo the ways of the whys

We woo the wise with their ways

Why wait?
All these sounds, needed to be together, and perhaps there is some wisdom in the wise whys.
Brandon Conway Aug 2018
What goes on in your glowing head
when you sit in front of your harp
eyes wide shut your fingers thread
and pluck, syncing with our heart

the way you majestically play
fills my ears with angelic tones
stunned, I can't look away
from your heavenly flowing bones

Harp forged from Hephaestus' gold
pluck and pick easy as a river's flow
soft harmonies of Philip Glass enfold
and just for a moment, forgotten woes
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hV2-zFh3tAU
this middle aged rue stirring ******
   haint no stranger to cold,
when dark hen stormy wintry days
   eggs hit from Arctic portal en fold
ding Atlantic Seaboard

   in a blizzard of bitterly, blindingly, and
   brutally sub zero temperatures
   from an occasional nor'easter
   fiercely gripping hold

the majority years, sans this prolific
   recalcitrant scrivener lived
   in various and sundry abode
   housed within Southeastern
   Montgomery County, Pennsylvania
   with 19* zip code,

and during my boyhood recall,
   how massive ice sheets did erode
the (then) opened expansive farmland,
   in preparation for planting time,

   where runnels of frigid water flowed
with childish cheeks exposed to glowed
after hours upon
   many a green acre got tilled and hoed

despite feeling energized and refreshed
   with arms and legs n'er fro zen
aye didst eagerly await with exuberant yen
kickstarting thy body electric

   experiencing hearthstone nook
   designed and built by Christopher Wren
after heading indoors counting fingers
   and toes to make sure, i still got ten

soon hearing the chorus of fauna,
   and floral kaleidoscope of color
   aground or taking wing
thus, upon thawing out thoughts
   drifted toward approaching spring,

the season revitalizing
   dormant natural inhabitants,
   whose excite (like mine) didst ping
announcing the debut of fecundity
nsync with screeching from the lizard king.

This Spring Equinox (i.e. man date:
   12:15 PM Tuesday,
   March twentieth two thousand eighteen)
doth rejuvenate
   inviolable hibernating animals

   and plants, and me equate
to experience sensation,
   whereby entire being does inflate
and (despite marital status),

   nonetheless envisions another gal asthma mate
no...no...no...please do not think this chap
   mean spirited and under rate
the woman (at present taking a siesta,

   and i breathe easy),
   who oft times doth henpeck, a trait
inherited many a chic hen
   (with tantalizing tail feathers)
   now (until she awakens)
   proscribing yours truly to wait

for my repast most likely ad hoc
moist ideal for any nerdy kid to knock
senseless, the worst facet of self important ****
   consisting of pop slop mock
Hungarian Goulash, a melange
   of relics from age old meals
   transformed into a petrified sawed little rock.
Braxton Reid Nov 2017
All things so morose
So many people speak of woes
When we're deep in throes
the woes
the woes
of the poets did
compound
for there were many woes
around

the woes they couldn't
surmount
woes that stayed on the estate's  
mount

poets tormented by woes
day and night
and there was no respite
for their plight

the woes were never
ending
the woes not ever
suspending

the woes such as
plagiarists
taking works in pilfering
fists

so too the trolls on
patrol
on them no firm
control

woes
woes
woes
besetting
the
poetry
community
woes
woes
woes
permitted
to
act
with
licensed
impunity
woes
woes
woes
of
them
not
much
immunity    
woes
woes
woes
Sophia Gaffney Mar 2016
My, how inexplicably beautiful you are, but I cannot tell you.
You are gone, and the lights are off,
And I am alone.
Next page