Sin - Hello Poetry

Sin Sep 2018

Indica

Colors mix
Sounds muffle
Everything is blurry
The lights are bright
I try to touch
I cannot feel
My steps are weightless
I feel heavy

Sep 2018

dandelionfine

napkin love letters

I have a perfect lunchbox mom
Crusts cut off
She leaves me love letters on my napkin
So that when the bathroom stall became my cafeteria
I wouldn't be so lonely
I have a perfect marathon mom
She runs to the beach and back just to show that she can.
And when she says she's all gross from her run, she somehow still smells like fresh air
My mom is fresh air,
She fills my sister's lungs with life
And every exhale is love
My mom is fresh air.
She is a sanctuary, she is a nest
She is rest
I have a perfect lunchbox mom,
A "Honey, what's wrong?" mom
An "If you're not here, the day's too long", mom
A "Wonder if God knew what He gave to Earth" mom
I thought God kept track of angels
She is everything

Sep 2018

JL Smith

Ode to Poets

It's not for all
Only a select few
Born with a gift,
But devoted daily
To refining it, too

My writers, my poets
This Ode is for you
Who pound fists upon desks,
Crumble paper into *****
When our words feel askew

Our kryptonite, Achilles' heel
Writer's block--If our readers only knew
Ravaging our brain for hours,
Studying fellow authors' work
For inspiration--a breakthrough

"Ah! Now it flows"
Placing pen upon paper
"No, that's no good"
Tear it, rip it, shred it
To pieces

But don't give up,
Don't get too down on yourself
Though a perfectionist, grammar ****
Believe in your words--
Worthy of the Best Sellers' shelf

For my dear friends and fellow poets
Unaware of your words reach
Remember where you started,
But understand your power--
Touching lives of so many you many never meet

© JL Smith

#love #beauty #magic #heart #emotion #raw #soul #inspire #truth #passion

Sep 2018

Vexra

Hidden

We walk passed as if they don't exist,
Staring down at the ground,
A shadow beside us,
Towering,
The trees have always been there,
But we act as if we can't see them,
As if the world around us,
Doesn't exist,
As if it is,
Hidden.

#nature

Sep 2018

Summer Cove

loss

I dread the day I accept loss.
I dread the day I can sleep without crying.
my eyes and heart have gotten used to months of tears.
Each one a reminder of you.
I dread the day I don’t drive past the little church.
By the school on the hill.
I dread the day I forget.

My blanket of sadness and guilt
has become a familiar comfort;
tear stained memories, a broken heart
are better than none of you.
I dread the day I forget.

I dread the day I can’t remember
the curls in your hair.
That nike jacket you’d religiously wear,
The small details
I can attempt to capture with my poems
but
nothing about you was simple enough
to describe with a pen and paper .
I dread the day I let go.
I dread opening a new page.

one of the most personal things I’ve ever written.

Sep 2018

de Negre

the passing drum band

part, the first
hauling through the desert

the passing drum band-

the unending rhythm

taste the dust storm

the thump of my feet raw response

each oncoming moment- the last; but yet to come

following the north star

the answer- an end

what was the question

the soldiers on skeleton camels

to what war do i march forward to

where was my solidarity when the band passed

scorched- exhausted death march

the old man always told- foretold

his stories; old as the desert

or the star which scorched the earth

which burned the roots

his tongue was with the soldiers

the verse rode the wind

part, the second

with the clouds; non-presence

written on scrolls

as old as the sun which scorched the earth

the north star just as old-

but the drum band has passed

with the dust we once tasted

please enjoy. the sahara is a long journey and we all need entertainment

#desert #band #drum #journey