Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
October Aug 2018
today is your birthday
I hope you know that if I could
if I could say it
I would say happy birthday
but I cant
I can't congratulate you on another year
but I hope there's cake
and candles too
like the ones I used to do
but that's over
however, your day is not
so take a shot
"cheers to 28"
today is his birthday. the (ex)love of my life's birthday. but i'll never tell him happy birthday and he'll never know i wrote this.
Tegan Mar 31
You got me drowning in roses
But baby its okay,
I know you will kiss the wounds
That the thorns left behind.
Sun, moon and golden candles hung in midair
are but ornaments used by heavens muse
to paint true love and all things rare.
My love does stir my vice to compare
painted words to love and  
these candles hung in midair.
Sprung to the road
                   Had coffee in the moonlight

Her, photographing,
                              The strap pulling her hair in an exquisite way
                              On her knees like a tiny elf
                              Illuminated by yellow street candles,

It was a summer night and the wind was gentle.

It was an odd night
                 In the odd same city as always
                             Oddly comfortable.

The coffee left a bitter taste

Yet the car drove us sweet and joyful
                    Through the yellow painted night.
july 5, 2017
1:20 a.m.
Arianna Nov 2018
Gossamer candlelight
The sole barrier
Between my skin and evening air,

Its golden honey spilling warm o'er my neck,
Woven with summer breeze and incense
Through't my hair

As I attend
The garden harmony
Of crickets with the nightingale.
Tommy Randell Dec 2017
I light your candles, I like the light
But every source these days is less than a little bright
When in that orangey glow
Nostalgia for the old days grips me by the throat

You see I hear you as you read
Watching your lips subvocalize my words
Your low IQ bends you to my need
This is about as obvious as Poetry occurs

You read you feel, that's my transaction
I get off on watching you burning bright
Like some ****** in an abreaction
I light your candles, I like the light

I supply, you participate
As the reader you have free will on your side
You can take or leave it at the Page
Or you can Inhale and risk the ride

But not here, meet me in another place
Somewhere darker, a more personal space
Somewhere I can truly light your fire
You to become my addict, I to be your supplier


Tommy Randell 18th December 2017
Someday there will be Cafés set aside where Poetry, openly transacted as the drug it is, will be legal and safe and not hi-jacked by a few for their own ends.
CK Baker Oct 2017
dust cloud heavy
in an apricot sky
cottonwood mucker
under ambrose pale
whippet and shepherd
mill at the earth patch
yellow birch hangs
over red bench park

combine shavings
in ***** rust brown
scissors chips
fall to the back stop
whiskey jack looters
sing patented chords
siblings (and 2 wheel enthusiasts)
give thanks

joyous retrievers
master the criss cross
bare maples stand
at settlers way
barred owl and blue jay
whistle the fore-wind
ghosts
and goblins
pull at the seeds

wind gusts belt
over the west gulch
blood rush churns
in a chilling fall morn
hallowed grounds still
at the midday
quiet reflections
of the afghan
and hound

jumpers unite
at the oxbow
route runners bend
(on a sultry foray!)
meadows exposed
in the framework
ball park empty
with pennants past

barrel dirt favors
the brew house
crimson and copper
find bracken ridge gate
harvest hands savor
the honey and hops
blankets of color
for a winter's hatch

brush fire kept
under steady peruse
bark bites fly
and embers glow
pine cones drop
from timber tops
3 wick candles
set the dinner place

shiver and ******
at the piper's call
cob web dew
on shadowy gates
a chilled mist mellows
the season's return ~
poets and artists
and dreamers awake
CK Baker Jan 2018
who lit the candles
placed eloquently
behind purple rock?
the sculpted radiance,
chapel grace
wound in a chosen
defined way
down the spiral
stone stairs

street cars dawdle
alongside
the packer slew
biding merchants
and frontmen
shuffle their wares
as the madman
and pock face
sing their
holy blues

cut jazz echoes
over the accompanying
gabble and drone
incense and haze
pour from
a lower trap door
sack fish, truffles
and splendid crafts shine
inside the stained glass fronts

a wide mouth snapper
with a bloated tongue
greets the
morning tide
(not camera shy
in the least!)
the fish traps
and beaneries
bring life
to the flourishing causeway

hula hoops
and ballers
join the
cobaine stage
favoured rogues
and mac jacks
speak easy
of the big daddy

beth’s triple by pass
taking firm hold on
tricky ****
and the nutcracker
maze ways,
taggers and
lost tunnels
of cu chi
strike a
nerving blow

a poised finger man
belts out his tune
(with a sniff sock
and iterating glare)
his nosey neighbors
cut artisan bread
(with a white wine
and jelly spread)
midwives push forward
for an afternoon
toddle and stroll
zen Nov 2018
someone you don't remember
laid claim to your body,
left her marks vivid against your skin.
when i saw them,
my eyes stung and my head spun and
my soul flared with a visceral hatred
of the one who made love to you in the way
i always wanted to.
and in that second
i grieved once again
for the love we never shared.
but when it was over,
i looked around and saw the one who
loves me in the way you never did,
makes my eyes sparkle
in the way you never did.
he is the one who
picked up the pieces you left
when you ravaged my heart
with the force of a wildfire
(that still
might be
burning)
he's the soft candlelight to your passionate wildfire.
Bryan Lunsford May 2018
With rose petals at the floor of your feet and with candles lit lighting up our scenery,
I know I've never felt more complete than I do right now (with you here with me)

For you are my perfect symphony,
As here, I watch our hearts carry the beat,
(In the midst of our bodies producing this heat)
And I lay you down–where our hearts melt degree by degree,
Making love to you, there, delicately and ever so sweet
September Roses May 2018
I run myself a bath, I put fluffy bubbles and soothing soaps in it, I light candles and turn down the lights, and make sure it's the perfect temperature
To cry in it

I drag myself out of bed, brush my teeth and get dressed, I tediousely organize my room, alphabetical, by colour, I get out my books, I dust the smooth pages
To cry on them

I pick out a fresh shirt, pants, shoes. I tie my hair and dry my face. I put on a nice jacket
Just to soak it with tears

Just to cry

It's seems most of my time these days, is spent on things that stray to sobs
Stray to crying
astraea Aug 2018
somehow, right now,
it’s winter and i’m wrapped in your embrace.
somehow, it’s winter and we’re all wearing brown,
sitting on soft couches and listening,
pretending we’re oh so smart,
when really?
we’re oh,
so
young.

and all our hearts, they’re strewn across the floor,
all our work is forgotten,
as we kiss and touch and watch the snow fall,
and sit down to dinner,
where we slow dance -in the living room,
then wrap our arms around each other,
repeat the same songs on some ancient tape player.

those slow drumbeats, the soft jazz notes,
the growing thrum of this cursed city
-the one we danced to? sank into the sheets with?
this, this is where we got lost in us.
with the snowfall outside and, who would have noticed
that we smell like something other than fall candles.

i grin, and we grab our things off the floor,
and laugh it off. somehow, we know this place,
it’ll always be our home. after all,
sweaters cover our marks in a way sun-clothes can’t,
don’t they darling?

now, soft skin, pearlescent,
seems like some sort of luxury, a wish made during yule,
something i can only share with you,
because truly, i don’t think i’d want to share this cold place,
unless they were you.

and as we waltz to slow music, as we plan, as we laugh,
as we sit down in the candles,
i think i’m falling all over again,
because your eyes look hodded in the light,
your skin inviting, your mouth soft,
and your smile makes me wish you’d swallow me whole.
based on perfect places (lorde), and **** your darlings.

inspired by: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NyIEOKbuTaU&index=2&list=RDGMEM6ijAnFTG9nX1G-kbWBUCJAVMuxLz5aWl4Mg
Am I having one of those days,
where I want to leave everything
and everyone?
Where I want to go into a daze,
and watch my dreams all come?

No, it's not 'Just one of those days'
It's not even a phase.
I am extremely unsatisfied and bored,
and my life feels more like a chore.

So i cry, and i sigh,
and get out my frustration.
While claiming I'm okay,
I lie,
because no one has time
for that curruption.

So i try to let these three years go by, as quickly as I can:
while I'm still being controlled
and watched,
as independent as I am?

I long for those three years to fly,
so my life can be ran by only I.
I'll have my own lovely home,
with a cosy fire,
all made by stone.

There won't be much company in need,
Not with all of my books,
candles and reckless sprees.
My house will be filled with glowing golden lights,
and expensive furnishings,
of all shades of white.

I'll be looking out of my balcony,
with my blankets wrapped around me,
as I listen to the rain pour and slide,
with a pen and paper at my side.

With my dog at my feet,
my eyes on the sky,
and my music playing lightly,
I'll always be on a high.

I know that's what my future holds,
as I won't settle for anything less,
I won't have lived until I live that image,
and until then I'll try my best.
This is truly where I hope to be, and these are only a pinch of ideas, out of a whole jar full of them.
BJ Donovan Jan 22
It feels like a funeral pyre.
    I've outgrown today's relevance.
    I'm not getting old; I'm old and
    near my pull by date. I still
    remember youth's fierce passion,
    unyielding principles and desire.
    Ashes smolder inside my shell as
    a mute cry to my naive progeny.
carpe diem
The Will-of-Strength, firm and subtle at Peak
Sought to follow his Elder and charge his Day
With Weight-Lifts and Fork-Bells conquer Relief
Took a Sling from his Semi; Shot the Green Elf
Who flew around the House and tampered his Rage
To learn such Programmes like Responses and Growth
But Confident as he was to draft his Age
Shot the Green Elf again; His Candles grew Old
The Candles! Left there on a Muddy-Cream-Cake
Waiting to be puffed by a Cold, Moral Bite
Till the Drogbas arrived and brought their own Bake
Then the Party resumed; Screams sparked in Delight.
And the Green Elf, sleeping, spoke in the End:
"Manhood be your Goal; First make me your Friend."
#will_daley
Autumn moves fast through the tunnel of love
Push from the top; bottom falls from above
The dangling leaves are flexing about
Dreaming of hope is a nightmarish shout

Cackle of ghouls; a shivering spine
And all that is due will be due in due time
Whispering wind softly kisses my cheek
Lifetime of searching; know not what I seek

Darkness emerges; light fading away
Tried to hold on but no one can stay
Feeling alive only once I am dead
Listen but don't hear a word that is said

The roar of a flame, the warmth of the light
Fireball streaks interrupting the night
From ashes we rose; to dust we return
Heart made of ice will not sooth what’s been burned

Holding my breath and not rising for air
Promise to no one the nothing I share
Hugging and squeezing a cuddly toy
Faded reminder when I was a boy

Roar of a racing car traveling fast
Linear stories that live in the past
An afternoon stroll through the paths in the woods
It wasn't enough when it’s all that I could

Didn't regret not regretting a thing
Perfectly still while I sit on the swing
Lazy and careless; the problem I tackle
Forever I'm chained without any shackles

Future and past presently now amuck
A free man who's also imprisoned and stuck
Roaring, the waves speaking softly to me
Shouting a message using secrecy

Cackling rooster call to end the day
Become an adult but your parents can't stay
The ending's begun and beginning ends near
Enveloped in fog; then it all became clear

Through stutter and stammer, I clearly can speak
The world’s strongest man; I am fearful and weak
Worldly observer, I travel through life
Don't leave my house; alone with no wife

A peacock, with confidence strutting my stuff
I have had my fill but not yet had enough
Nothing I fear but much fear have for it
Blowing out candles that never were lit

Bellowing cheers of "hip-hip hooray!"
Round of applauds for those who've died today
Subtle blow from a blatant attack
A gift you are given; already took back

Slapped with audacity right in the face
Composed with the utmost politeness and grace
Without allergy, still my body reacts
While calmly I sit through a panic attack

Telling a lie till it becomes truth
Speaking with stature his words are uncouth
Deafening silence rang shots from the gun
Finished a race that has not yet begun

The Golden Rule encased in rust
I did what was needed but not what I must
Can be anything but yet nothing you are
Traveling often but didn't go far

Properly set for no expectations
Biased perception began at creation
Feet on the ground and head in the clouds
Displayed and *****; exposed in my shroud
Written - April 6, 2017

All rights reserved.
In my Thirty-Fifth Year I juiced this Remark
The Crisque-Plaque Hotel named after a Tree
Sturdy, of Signage enhance the Grade's Bark
Wishing all else their Best Service was Free
If not the Years to Good Degree advance:
Fruits, Pasta, Meat, Veggies and Japanese
Mix the fricasee to match that of France
And serve it on a Platter, if you please
Only if the Staff were shy; But informed
How noted the needs of their Clients were
One Gesture made, took the Meaning lost cause
Pour some polished Suggestions done on here.
Thirty-Five Candles blown, all without Flame
It was still my Best Day; All just the same.
zebra Jul 2018
come to me
like nocturnes creeping
and wake me with sweet kisses
like a tongue of sapphire ash
and sharp teeth to drink
from hollowed throat willing
and we shall love,
and love,
and love
like melting candles blessed
Bob B Dec 2018
Light the candles on the menorah,
On the menorah, one by one.
Let the shamash be your attendant.
Gather together when day is done.

May the sounds of Hanukkah blessings
Fill your home with a cheerful mood.
Let your heart be brimming with wonder,
Joy and laughter and gratitude.

Celebrate the season with hope--
The yearly festival of lights.
Think about the oil that burned
For eight miraculous days and nights.

Spin the dreidel. How will it fall--
Nisht or gantz or halb or shtel?
Win or lose some Hanukkah gelt…
If you break even, you're doing well.

We reflect on where we have come from;
Struggles have never seemed to cease.
May people everywhere learn from the past.
For the sake of the children let there be peace.

Light the candles on the menorah,
On the menorah, one by one.
May the gentle glow of the candles
Soften the night in the setting sun.

-by Bob B (12-12-18)

°I know: the festival of Hanukkah has passed this year.
But it will return on 22 Dec. 2019.
CA Guilfoyle Nov 2014
Along this pilgrimage made
with candles lit by the sun, a holy desert communion
seeking connection to the one, here in this fiery church
I have found lost souls, sun bleached bones
they drink the moon and sun
saguaros wander to and fro
all are parched none are full
cactus leaning, I am kneeling
here at this earthly altar
awaiting resurrection
I have come to pray
watching nights and days
these veils burn away.
According to legend,
if you stare into a mirror,
in a dark room,
lit with candles,
& say "Mary Jane" three times,
while smoking dabs,
you get high as ****.
Arianna Oct 2018
Drifting daydreams:
Of cotton snow and you,
Of the lazy daisy Delta blues
On honeysuckle afternoons;

Those heart-of-August, bluebell eves
Blooming powdery and warm
Around the magnolia tree
Where together, in time,
We’d have placed candles
And fairy offerings.

Now the years blossom long between us,
Though your fingerprints I see
Still peppering the dust
Strewn over the piano keys;
Your hands haunting:
Ghosts of a waltz,
Dancing rosy gymnopédies ⸺

How I held them dear!

Good times ⸺

A clair de lune rhapsody.
Picking memories from my garden,
And gathering them in a bouquet for you. :-)

"Gymnopédie No. 1" by Erik Satie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eMnxjdGTK4w

Also, "Clair de Lune" by Claude Debussy
In this Dragon's Year eighty Candles knock
Kneeling to Confirm another Life's Best
Your Strength, still sturdy; Your Concepts, in-lock
Which Rivers flowing among all your rest
I thanked you before for Friendship accept
Though Identity was risk to beseech
Still in your Paper those Laurels you kept
That Wisdom only an Open Mind could reach
And guess what, Coach, did you see your Boy's stunt,
Flicking himself in an air-wheel Down Under?
Where a Hermit Crab's shell prayed his be blunt
Hoping his Weight would not crush it asunder.
Joking aside, may your Day all be well
Knowing your Shoes are dancing, I can tell.
#andybanksdive
King Panda Oct 2015
found
grounded bird closed in
ribboned-box and buried
underneath a willow snapped back
to finally relax
to decompose and nourish
by the lake in drooping shade
the felled leaves pile
candy wrappers gray snow in
parking lot corners
with pumpkin spice scented candles
with charred letters skirling up
the arm dropped to sizzle and puff out
white beanies
flannels
leather boots and jangly bronze-leafed wind chimes
I sit on the patio and listen to you speak
the chill of your words
perched like a squirrel barking on a fence top
hibernation preparation and breeze
the gospel of your autumn

it’s lovely.
Let me to the Incarnate Mother must
The Eldest of Sudden Truth understand
One Day, which shaky Candles will delust
The Object's Manner of a Blackened Hand
I deliver Forceps to which Heart grows
What Heart's own Attrition dares to admit
The Mum of Three Promised Knights beknows
The Receipt of such Devotion permits
Verily, Age is a Factorless Sum,
Easily enclayed by a Donkey's Foot
And when the Festival lays down its Lump
It locked the Door to keep the Sorrowful.
Now, Elder-Mum, try to lift your Wise Head
This Extended Son, wishes your Love be fed.
Stephen E Yocum Aug 2018
The older we grow
the faster life goes,
priorities change
quality of living
and loving takes
precedent, over
self-indulgence
and material things.
Nothing as important
as family and friends.

It is racing now,
these fleeting days
and years, reflected
most in my grandsons
growing too soon from
children to young men.

Along with Steller parents
our little farm provides
a learning ground for the
kids, teaching life lessons
that inspire character and
self discipline, with Cows
and pigs to show at fairs,
pride earned with accomplishments
and Blue Ribbons to share.

I am so lucky having a ringside
seat, watching yet another
family generation ascend.
Football and basket ball
games to attend, Christmas
morns of excited children
clamoring down the stairs,  
many birthday celebrations
with ever more candles aglow.
Memories all, retained and shared.

Perhaps the best part is,
these grandsons of mine,
still are up for hugs and
good night kisses, genuine
affection received and given.

Families are a true blessing
and a privilege, the only
real reason we are here.

All these things, remain the
sweet frosting on my aging
Grandfather's cake of life.
I sometimes wonder where
I would be without all these,  
my reasons for being?
Next page