Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Apr 2015 Tyler
pluie d'été
mono-
 Apr 2015 Tyler
pluie d'été
"Are you tired of me?"

the train passes, and the windows rattle against their frames
the silence it leaves is deafening

she doesn't know if he heard her question or not
he turns the page of the newspaper without looking up
his hair still damp from the shower he took and the white sunlight
warms the accents of his skin

"Love?"

his phone rings beside him, and he holds up a finger

"Hello?"

he gets up, slides the patio door shut behind him

the sweater he is wearing is the same colour
of the sky the day
they had their first kiss

it is juxtaposed
against the grey clouds

she moves from the door way
puts the kettle on

nausea
her hands tremble as she rests them
on the cold counter

the counter is holding her up

she can hear his voice
she misses it
she can hear it
she still misses it

the door slides
and squeaks
he promised to fix it
a week ago

she keeps her back to him
reaches for the tea ***
the loose leaves

she hears him sit down

she stops

the newspaper rustles

she closes her eyes

the clock ticks

her heart beats

he coughs

her heart stops

the kettle whistles on the stove
she waits

he gets up
and turns off the gas

"Weren't you going to get that?"

she moves away
the  sliding door open and closes
complains once
twice

the air is icy against her skin

she looks behind her

he is sitting down
again
 Apr 2015 Tyler
Ron Gavalik
Alone
 Apr 2015 Tyler
Ron Gavalik
A man sits diagonally in front of me
to my left in the diner
Over his shoulder, I see
he’s navigating Facebook
on a cheap laptop
Behind him, I’m writing this poem
Every 13 seconds a notification rings
He has a Facebook message
The notifications are messages from a woman
She types heart shapes in place of words
It is the standard online flirtation
that has replaced real relationships
He is quite popular
as he eats toast with purple jelly
and sits alone

People once came to diners
to chain smoke cigarettes
and drink pots of coffee
and think
and talk
and read poetry
We didn’t have much
but we had each other
Now we’re individuals
who sit in silence
alone

Some of us get chat notifications
Some of us write poems
All of us still get the coffee
and the toast
with purple jelly
To be included in my next collection, **** River Sins.
 Apr 2015 Tyler
Toothless Nono
I'd like to think
That the stars from above guided me to you
A sailor lost in a stormy sea
Into a sanctuary where a maiden lives
Reigniting a dead fire that
turned a heart made of stone
Into vats of molten rock.

And whenever I rest my gaze
Upon those mysterious eyes
A pang of pain strikes my chest
As if the universe is reminding me
That you're a lover I have long lost
In another life, another realm, another world

But the currents of life held us in liaison
And we swim in this vast sea
Knowing that one day
The currents will wash us away
On the same shore where it all began
 Apr 2015 Tyler
Jennifer Weiss
I'm starting to notice something,
I'm unsure if it's true.
But when did all of my writing,
become less about me...
and more about you?
 Apr 2015 Tyler
Jennifer Weiss
My niece asked about you yesterday,
she said she liked you.
I said, " I like him too, but we're just friends."
That was a lie, but sometimes it is okay to pretend,
when something is too complicated for a child to comprehend.
I do hope, however, I never have to lie like that again.
Because as the words left my lips
I remembered how achingly I missed
you, my best friend.
In my chemical dependency class we have to write down days sober chemically, and says sober emotionally.

Days sober chemically: 55
Days sober emotionally: 75

But they don’t ask how many days it has been since I thought of you.

They don’t teach you how to control cravings for a person.

I could write a book on ways
to control the urges to smoke a joint,
but I am helpless as
to how to prevent myself from texting you.

I don’t have withdrawl symptoms from *** or *****.

I do have symptoms
of a broken heart.
I can’t remember the last time
I used, but I can remember the
last time I felt your skin
against mine.

Last time I took a shot was,
I don’t remember when.
Last time I felt your lips
against mine,
was on the 29th of
November.

I don’t have a craving for **** or *****,
but I do have a craving for you.

I can stop smoking whenever I want.
I can stop drinking whenever I want.

But I can’t quit you.
Because, baby, you’re the monkey on my back.

You don’t encourage me to drink or smoke,
You encourage me by existing.
They say that we all have the power to be sober,
But, what if I don’t want to be sober?

Because when I become sober from you,
Is when you have passed through.
Copyright © 2015 by Kathleen McSweeney
 Apr 2015 Tyler
Sam Stone Grenier
How I glance out the window to see the
monolithic clouds, taking to the sky as if it
was the interstate that led to
the great American dream.

The dream that was revealed by Fitzgerald
and died of starvation from Steinbeck.
The dream that begged for reconciliation but got nothing.
The dream that was nothing.

Nothing but the plastic glow of ****-jobs along
with the lights that illuminated the local Walmart.

Nothing more than the glimmer of hope
shot down by the square conformity that is now.

The now that forgot humanity at the hazy bus stop,
leaving them to return home and ****** the intellect.

In head melting Sundays where I sit staring at electricity
that kills time slowly like a premeditated ******.
 Apr 2015 Tyler
Third Eye Candy
i am about to be nothing.
on the cusp of a wisp
i am dis-jewelled
and the farthing in my hand
is a clip of my purchase.
to destroy is to be a manling.
i come from dust
and this is the love
that has no name
but claims the cinch of my wrist
'round the throat
of my tulips.

again....

i am made to unmake.
i claw at the virtue of my truth
only to suffer
the cavernous ploy
of my wishful thinking.

you are the sun
that spoke my name
and said "why? "

i am the smoke
in an otherwise
sterile balloon.

— The End —