#quarters - Hello Poetry

Too good and yet true Too beautiful To taste Without falling in daze Without following Delirious An aroma trail of craving On the back of my tongue I’m getting equal measures Of heaven and hell Perfectly balanced My eyes are my traitors Plotting to open the gates Sending stowaway warriors Whom I never gave orders To slip behind walls Of thickest black pupils In the Trojan horse That my eager look is And gazes are bridges Unwillingly Supporting the siege Of epiphanies You and me Caught in our ambush Completely surrounded by Us

0

Oct 18, 2017

Oct 18, 2017 at 11:27 AM UTC

gabriel-burns

Assault

Too good and yet true Too beautiful To taste Without falling in daze Without following Delirious An aroma trail of craving On the back of my tongue I’m getting equal measures Of heaven and hell Perfectly balanced My eyes are my traitors Plotting to open the gates Sending stowaway warriors Whom I never gave orders To slip behind walls Of thickest black pupils In the Trojan horse That my eager look is And gazes are bridges Unwillingly Supporting the siege Of epiphanies You and me Caught in our ambush Completely surrounded by Us

26

Found the quarters for the laundry Counted them by loads We have enough for eight You picked me up and counted me by mistakes I weighed a ton but we carried it together after we exchanged numbers I did the laundry And week after week Again and again until we had enough quarters for one last load And I washed the bed sheets Figured we could take all our ***** clothes off and lie in the clean there Because it's nice to have a clean house We have a clean house When I can't sleep I scrub the tiles Until they're bright like the rising sun reminding me I should have been sleeping It's okay though You're asleep and can't tell you're alone I ask myself while making coffee If you know I've got bags underneath my eyes And the floor is cleaner and cleaner every passing night And the smell of bleach resonates off the square white tiles You continue to wake and just smile Smile Just smile Look at me And smile Like the world is smooth And runs on smiles My insides mock fire "Are you tired?" "No I'm just wired, drank too much coffee I'm not tired." You know And I know you know I guess you're happy with the clean floors and extra space in the bed so you don't have to worry about rolling over at night or kicking me

0

Aug 11, 2017

Aug 11, 2017 at 2:46 PM UTC

PhoenixBekkedal

25 cents; I had the sense and left

Found the quarters for the laundry Counted them by loads We have enough for eight You picked me up and counted me by mistakes I weighed a ton but we carried it together after we exchanged numbers I did the laundry And week after week Again and again until we had enough quarters for one last load And I washed the bed sheets Figured we could take all our ***** clothes off and lie in the clean there Because it's nice to have a clean house We have a clean house When I can't sleep I scrub the tiles Until they're bright like the rising sun reminding me I should have been sleeping It's okay though You're asleep and can't tell you're alone I ask myself while making coffee If you know I've got bags underneath my eyes And the floor is cleaner and cleaner every passing night And the smell of bleach resonates off the square white tiles You continue to wake and just smile Smile Just smile Look at me And smile Like the world is smooth And runs on smiles My insides mock fire "Are you tired?" "No I'm just wired, drank too much coffee I'm not tired." You know And I know you know I guess you're happy with the clean floors and extra space in the bed so you don't have to worry about rolling over at night or kicking me

38

Cradle the smell Of french fries and quarters Clinking their way To the belly of Donkey Kong The bowling ball Slides and pins they hit Coughing as they Fall in the smoke-filled room Dipping in ketchup We salute the fallen red-ringed pins As high scores fall and initials go up Below the row of quarters for those to go next.

0

Jun 5, 2019

Jun 5, 2019 at 10:35 PM UTC

jt-nelson

Bowling Alley

Cradle the smell Of french fries and quarters Clinking their way To the belly of Donkey Kong The bowling ball Slides and pins they hit Coughing as they Fall in the smoke-filled room Dipping in ketchup We salute the fallen red-ringed pins As high scores fall and initials go up Below the row of quarters for those to go next.

12