Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Shofi Ahmed Jun 2017
Picture yours, put it out
to your kaleidoscope.
Like the day at the full-blown noon
or the night on the cheek of the moon
a flame burning on the underlying dark
a dawn switches on the first light
a sun comes out of the night.
Visualise your latent one
put it on before your mirror!

Princely give the eyeballs a designer treat.
Paint your masterpiece at the day’s peep.
Hook the browsers at their first click.
Onoma Sep 2018
the other

half

of my

soul

needs

space...

to photo

the loss

of words.
September Rose Feb 2018
Imagine a Person
just like you
living parallel to you
their life a parallel line to yours
a Person who finds the same thrills as you
loves nothing more than your favorite artist
your passions exactly the same
living your life
singing your songs
painting your paintings
a Person so uncannily made for you
someone that you would instantly click with
someone that would watch sunsets with you
someone you would never let go of till the day you die.
someone impossible
because you just never quite meet
someone you just miss by some cruel circumstance
and you'll always miss them
because you see the thing about parallel lines
they never meet
CK Baker Mar 2017
lady craighead played the blues
on a stand-up samick
in the ***** room
along side the parsons project
and squabbling dogs
and night moves

stairs creek
up the mezzanine trek
wool sheets slide
on finished floors
little angels
play late into the seventh
(a closing match nearing
the midnight hour)

croaking toads and cicada
sing in the blue moon
musty smells and mothballs
settle deep in the vault
the kettle boils
and cat coils
as the pump house rolls
its heavy drawl

the red phone rings
and bird clock sings
(behind the ruddy stall)
a sleeman variation of the ruy lopez
employed heartily
by the incomparable master jack
marble toast burning
wringer wash churning
chris craft running
near the old carp canoe

rooster calls
and west wind squalls
rustle through the porch screen door
chicken *** pies
and rogue flies linger
a rocker chair placed
near the  sepia face
(softened by the intricate frame)

donkey in tow
(with a fastened ***)
maggie in her dreams
of green tambourines
the nocturnes
reflections
and whispering gospel bells

tractors pull on
the grinder stone
horses lay still
in the mid-day sun
a trump card is fingered
at the furnace click
(crosswords and puzzles are next!)
while the sparrow
and that **** rabid fox
are drowning
deep in castles well
ryn Mar 2015
I don't seek your permission...
To write about the what, why and how.
It could be a haiku or come in the shape of a cow.

I don't need your approval...
When I don't sound the least bit poetic...
In my mismatched metaphors or ill-rhymed acrostic.

I'm not asking for your blessing...
When I pen down and put up what I think...
Be it in cloying cliches or in tear drenched ink.

I don't crave for your understanding...
When my 10 word poems weren't filtered through your poetic lens,
Or if my contributions in collaborations lack in sense.

I don't hope for your likes...
If my content does not tickle your fancy,
Or if my words just rubs you silly.

I mean no disrespect...
But don't be too quick to click on the 'comment' button.
Private messaging has been put there for a reason.

I don't mean to cramp your style...*
You're entitled to your own opinions of course...
But if you've got nothing good to say, please save it and shove it up yours.
.
This is a peaceful community, almost sacred to many. All bearing a heart (hale or ailing) are welcome to spill their ink... Regardless of writing experience or poetic prowess.

Bear in mind that people write for various reasons. Some are really good at it, some are just barely starting. Some ask for feedback, some just want an outlet.

So... Be nice. Use the private messaging feature if you really need to offload your thoughts on another's text offering.

Respect and be respected.
.
Esther Oct 2018
my camera
tries to capture
all that you are
and fails
because you are so much more
than a photograph
you are fluid
you are sound
you are fireworks
so you can't be captured
you need to be
experienced
Ashley Chapman Sep 2017
Sandwiched in layers of liquid crystal display,
Encased in vats of plastic,
                          
                            we
Voyaging in data-spheres, plumes of digital play.

Mindless,
         In the soup of silicone,
                            
                            all
Myt­h-makers,
         Pouring over electro-spawned
         networks,
                            
                            fall
Workers,
          In the buzz of bits and bytes, of
          megabytes and terabytes,
                            
                            down
Everyone
          Far from the wood, the brine, the
          mud that caked us,
          In tighter and tighter
          digitised  projections,
                            
                            click!
‘Like me’,
‘Share me’,
‘Leave your comments.’

Messages smoothed out in polymers,
Beyond reproductions of ourselves,

                           enter:

Deeper, delving in the mire of dream-conscious,

Now a waking voice,
          Hardened, digitised, recorded in
          bubbles, in drives, in clouds:
                        
Numb numbers of numbers numb,
                          mirror.

          A platform slotted home:
The motherboard!
          To record the echo in the hollow
          of our Being.
Wrote this a while back. It was published in The Tunnel Magazine, which was great. Anyway, hope it gets a wider audience.
Mystic Ink Plus Dec 2018
In response to
The posts
From friends, abroad

What clicks inside is
To ask,
What time is there?

Yes
What time is there?
Nothing more
Genre: Humor
Theme: Different Time Zone || Hide N’ Seek
Claudia Jan 23
It's like that feeling
When you're a little kid and you've lost track of your parent at the mall
Running around aimlessly
Tugging at the sleeve of anyone who might be them
Who might be the one you're looking for
Might be safety in the lawless crowd
Might take you home

The escalating panic with every new face, every wrong face,
Every judging gaze
And seeing that the worst case scenario, you might die stuck right here and hopelessly alone

All I can think of now
As we walk across the bridge
Discussing feminism and things they never ever understood,
As you opened your mouth to catch a snowflake on that holy tongue

Is that I found you
You caught me on the tip of your tongue and I found you

I always hated how people say they "clicked"
But now I get it,
Not a click but that soft sound
Of the the last jigsaw sliding into place
That's what happened when I met you

I made sense

dear best friend,
Twin soul,
When they mistook us for lovers,
Or siblings I only ever felt flattered
To have you in my puzzle

You are the prettiest part of my picture

You are the best "click" I ever heard

You are a sincere "*******" to anyone who ever crossed me

You are everything I owe you
Everything I owe you
She left with a case, not even a note
Heels clicking she never turned back
Clickety click, clickety clack

Where’s mum - little faces pressed
against the glass, eyes searching
Come away, says he, have your tea

She left for another, in her best coat
Heels clicking, she moved on with glee
Clickety clack, entertained on her back

Where’s mum- little cheeks stained
with tears, still eyes searching
Get to bed, says he, you’ve still got me

She left for the new, her old life remote
Heels clacking, she felt they did click
Clickety clack, her heels left no track

Where’s mum - little hearts plead
Eyes searching and searching
Clickety clack, she’s not coming back.

29/01/19 JG
Maia Vasconez May 2018
1.He’d say anything to get me out of my shell.
2. His pupils are hard, black marbles and I want to flick him off of me.
3. He is always shuffling through women like they are a deck of cards.
4. It’s just how the dice rolls.
5. I was afraid of falling, of my arms snapping like wishbones.
6. He waits until I’m swaying like a door hinge.
7. My eyes are wide like 8 ***** and he hits me with that same click, roll, thunk of a pool ball table.
8. You are cursing me. When you yell, you are cursing me.
9. “Come out, come out, wherever you are…”
10. I hope the bruises on your legs turn into birds. I hope you get out of here.
This is for anyone whose ever been hurt by a man
Reem Hajal Aug 2018
their feet clicked along the marble floor,
blue, gold, and embroidered flowers
covered every tapestry of the castle.
click, click, click
chants rose in the air,
statues of past kings judged the dancers,
diamonds fell from ring fingers of maids,
my presence embellished by the eyes of the admirers.  
click, click, click
the horologe matched the tapping sound of the guests’ footsteps,
my time was running out.
click, click, click

an angel whispered,
“time was never real.”

click,
click,
click,
(only this time, it was only my feet.)
Cindra Carr Dec 2010
Sun-filled mornings burn bright
Warm smells of life dashing by
Squint eyed despair peeking out of the dark
Bright memories gone degraded by time
Broken life shuffles slowly by
Rings click on the spokes of a chair
Wheels turning slowly around
Bumps on the door jamb from failing sight
Lost mornings sunny dipped in light
Burns on the minds sticking to life
Soft darkness covering slow moving despair
Bright days dissolving into lost nights
Squint eyed despair and fumbling thoughts
Slow moving wheels and dangling legs

cc1210
Masin Dec 2018
She looked at the moon with me all night
The sounds of crashing tides
  We talked, in til I finally kissed her
She played that song, so sublime
Didn’t think I could click,
With you that quick
We sung every lyric on point

“baby your a big blue whale”

Even though our love is thru
Im grateful that the universe
Came thru and did me a solid
By meeting you.
Ayush Gangwar Aug 2018
When you travel in the car and the journey is too far...
Fill the cabinet with all the required stuffs,
It will be more exciting when you travel with a group.
Raise the woofers up ,
And eat the tasty stuffs.
Just Play the jolly tune,
It'll make your lazy mood.
When you see something unique,
Stop a while and take a click.
Still the destination is too far,
You're feeling tired and so is your car…

It’s time for a short break,
stretch your body and take a breathe,

When your body gets re-energised,
It’s tym to resume your lovely drive,
Destination is not always necessary to take,
Sometimes the road trip is what we want to make…
Because most of the time you'll spend ib travelling so just make each and ever drive beautiful and memorable. Because YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE.
CautiousRain Mar 2016
Dance with me and pay the price,
it's no big deal, the music's nice,
a twirl, a tap, why won't you glide?
I promise not to hurt your pride.

My heels click and stomp about,
your feet intact, without a doubt,
but something cracks, between us both,
a shattered, silent, bond-broken oath.

My smiles full of blind deceit,
your trust denied in fast defeat,
I've grown tired of this masquerade,
now you wish you hadn't stayed?

I can't believe you thought you'd be my match,
that we'd make it out without a scratch,
but jokes on you, and me too,
this was our final dance, so enjoy the view.
You thought you could dance with me, but we weren't even dancing to the same song. No wonder you walked all over me, we could never be in rhythm. We were never dancing the same steps.
Cindra Carr Nov 2011
There’s nothing to see here
Dusty bottles skewed in the back
The ***** mirror only deepens reflected frowns
There’s nothing to see here
Broke down jukebox squalling about lost loves, lost jobs, and lost luck
There’s nothing to see here
The bus long gone with dreams of many
Pieces of labels litter the floor
There’s nothing to see here
The lights don’t need to flicker at the end
The long nights are empty
Booths are unused
There’s nothing to see here
The doors click shut
Locked down for the night
There’s nothing to see here

cc111711
Next page