Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
  Feb 2019 Matterhorn
Sara
I'll see what I can make
out of the leftovers I have.
Although, it's never too long
until the milk turns bad,

until a love turns sour
in an online second;
since, an online minute
wastes a real-life hour.

But in a snap-shot moment,
I can find life for weeks
on my stash of sugar truths,
until I forget to eat;

forget to breathe;
'til I don't even need to sleep
because the lovehearts on my photos
sing such soft melodies.

And despite the fact
that often I can't sit at ease,
somehow this perfect madness
always tastes so bittersweet.
a poem about the addictive nature of social media
Matterhorn Feb 2019
“Read my poetry,”
I say daily;
I hope that some day
You will do so,
And that then you may know my heart:

For you, and only you,
It beats within my breast.
Every waking moment it aches—
Yearns!—
For you, and yet there may be no peace,
No cessation to this injury;
Perhaps you have chosen another,
Or perhaps it is simply not meant to be.
Regardless, my heart remains
Forever yours, forever broken.
© Ethan M. Pfahning 2019
  Feb 2019 Matterhorn
blushing prince
the sun is my king and sometimes it asks me
what i'm doing down here on earth
i can't help but explain that everything has it's place and there are certain rules you cannot bend
i consistently want to have a ****** job wherein it slowly melts my spirits but not really
what i really want is nothing by the sea
doesn't matter which one
where i can pray into the sand
where someone asks
who are you? what are you doing?
and i can tell them
at ease, at ease
like that cowboy i remember from my childhood
this is me at my most degenerate
at my most free
but you wouldn't know
except the sun king and I
Matterhorn Feb 2019
Across the room,
Through the undulating mass;
Somehow, we discover,
Inexplicably,
Each other's eyes.
She holds my gaze for but a moment,
Then quickly looks away,
Timidly brushing aside a curly strand of hair,
Staring anywhere else.

In the corridor,
Swiftly walking, pushing and shoving;
Our eyes meet once again,
And again,
Her pupils dart immediately to the left or right,
Studying the wall,
Suddenly in love with the smeared fingerprints and tacky posters.
I silently hope to be perceived once again
As she disappears.

Often, it seems
This process repeats.
Who is she?
What is her name?
How is it that, without fail,
We find each other
In one world or another,
One intrigued, the other embarrassed?
For the sake of the miracle, I refuse to know.
© Ethan M. Pfahning 2019
  Feb 2019 Matterhorn
Joliver
If there was one word
One word, isolated by itself
That I cannot stand above all others
It would have to be "Okay"
I despise "Okay"
"Okay"
Is how your millionth day at work went
"Okay"
Is off-brand raisin bran
"Okay"
Is how you say life is going
When you don't want to admit you spend
Every second of it
Wanting to die

"Okay"
Is packed to the brim with
Hidden implications
Like a treasure chest
Filled with bottles
With little subliminal hatreds
Written on tiny slips of paper
Passively aggressively pushed inside
To discover later
As I pull out a treasure map
And try to decipher
Where I went wrong

"Okay"
Is a one word dismissal
That feels like an essay a thousand pages long
"Okay"
Is a poison dripping with disinterest
When I dared to share with you
Something I thought might make you smile
"Okay"
Is like trying to talk to a wall
While watching the paint on it dry
"Okay"
Takes two seconds to write
Yet I waited days
For that dreaded word
To grace my notifications
"Okay"
Should be used sparingly
As if each time you send it
You **** the receiver just a little bit
"Okay"
Should not be said so often that
I know what you're about to say
Like I saw it in a crystal ball
"Okay"
Is not looking up from your phone
When I tell you about my day
"Okay"
Is not the proper response
To "I love you"

They say that the opposite of love isn't hatred
It's indifference
And I can't think of a response
More indifferent to pouring out
My heart into your hands
Than "Okay"
At least the last thing you said to me
Before we parted ways
Showed that you cared
At least a little bit
"I hate you"
Stung less
Than the thousands of times
Over our countless conversations
You responded
"Okay"
Okay?
  Feb 2019 Matterhorn
Colm
As liquor should be
Locked up
Too strong is it
A drink for all

So also should these harrows be
Refined behind iron
Pad and key

Not opening to doors like worlds
But renewed in truth
Baptized in study
And blessed by the best
Footprints in all

No educated mind can bare
The suffering of one
Let alone many within these halls
Next page