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ryn Jan 2015
Dig
.
•unchain me from unrest•
shovel me out of the dirt•
une-                              arth
my conge-   sted chest•
let my secrets blurt•
let them
spill.....•
just   for
the wor-
ld to see
•..string
me up...
..against
my  will
•harvest
the fruits
of the bi-
tter tree•
let    eyes
see  what
will show
•...let feet
be caught
in stubbo-
rn mud...•
let prying minds be baffled.....by
what they would come to know
•...let wanting hearts choke...on
the dirges of my stale blood....•
now dig me up quickly•'cause
it's been far too long..... and i
have been readied•exhume
all of me completely•for
no longer should i
remain as........
buried•
.
Du siger at du ikke er god for mig
At jeg fortjener bedre
Men hvad ved du
Hvordan kan du vide
Hvad der er bedst for mig
Ikke sig du ikke vil have mig
For det ved jeg du vil
.
Men du sårede mig ikke
Det klarede jeg selv
Outside Words Oct 2018
A Capitalist
burns each day shoveling dirt;
paid to dig his grave
© Outside Words
Whittney May 2018
Fighting on the front lines
With red pens
For creativity,
For independent thought,
For common sense
Not Common Core

This is a battle in a bureaucratic war we’re losing
Keep pushing and shoving against an impenetrable wall
But we’re only foot soldiers, not actually giving orders

Kids look down on us and they ask,
“Will this be on the test?”
And say,
“Get out of my face.”

Taught by parent(s) to resist.
These are Kids who fail to create
But recite, recall, and retaliate

“Mistake” has become a forbidden word.

School is no longer a safe haven
Testing, testing, 1-2-3 hundred murdered students, teachers

Hanging by a thread and losing the grip a little more every day

Following the curriculum map to X marks the standardized test.

We dig and
                  Dig and
                                 Dig
For the buried treasure trove of teaching magic. The legitimacy and respect our careers deserve. The money, the time, the love, the support.

But it’s buried under so much testing and red tape, and so    

We fail.
exst Aug 23
Dig
Deep , Deep
Down

Under the ground
Exists
A Crown

Will you take
The time
To dig
For

Treasures

#micropoetry
A-McIntyre May 20
dig
touch my arm as a passerby,
shooting stars in the midnight sky.
your laugh contagious, your smile shines.
the sun reflects in your eyes,
you're warming the world from within.
*
buried deep underground,
I see no light, I hear no sound.
inside a box, inside the earth,
unable to move I feel your hearth.
the fire mellows, I kick and scream
no sound comes out, somethings wrong with me.
my voice now gone, I now cannot tell
I want your warmth, but cannot break this shell.
*
my mind is caught in a web of dark,
a purple void of hurt and heart.
was one touch enough for you to look?
was your world as mine was shook?
if you are able to find my box,
would you dare to pick the lock?

can you free me from my own self sabotage?
Tyler Jones Sep 7
Dig
I want to taste your mind
When you’re tongue tied
I want to be the one you want to be beside
Dig deeper down in the slime and the grime
Moonlight’ll be our guide
To climb up to great heights
Color out of the lines
You’re my gold mine
Serpentine
King Panda Jun 2017
I could not accept you—star
incarnate, carved and swollen
in the trunk of a fustic—

*****-yellowed and preened—risen
and alive I strap my
saddle to your back. My heels
dig to the dark side of

a price yet to be paid—an eye
of a coursing, being scrubbed
into the spots of grain—heat
eaten by earth. Star set.
Star rise.
Star be

livid and leaven


whispers the cowboy
sitting in a lawn chair on the
front porch—his hat falling
off from crowning, bald-headed

tilt. space and all its wonders.
i wish for you
to construe

a lie so glorious in it's details,
that doubt of reason all but fails.

to throw the truth (and it's ten nails,
ten nails dig deep, and thought prevails-
but not tonight, for Now is frail.)

into the cold,
this truth so bold,
****** right out onto it's side.

to know my piece
is to know defeat;
my one true loss
is your heartbeat.
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
This is not, a time to loosen up
Or nine to five job to give up
Just saddle up the power is in you
Five ladies cafe to dine at five and
drove_* the meter is running
(The Canadian Cup) team versus the
     Taxi Cup
He swooned you in your
Five dreamy but half heart sugars
Come on Baby bloomers
Let's see some boom!!

In your hips men will be men taking
frequent flyer trips temptation 1 2345
We need fewer digs one love teo reasons
World  345  heart flags
We don't have to cross our hearts
Perhaps tattoo heart legs no more strikes
Jumping Jack flash
What a rope in this isn't the Pope

Somehow we all get broke
To court her like your the lasso
stars cosmos hearts like Lassie
Never a change of subject how it
remains in your heart how it hit hard
to react but changed to five cards
Digging too long  lucky 777 like heaven
Heart digs

1-where?
Oh! There

No, I am here
We are always  
In-between
numbers_ I only
have 5 minutes
No I phone have a heart
Oh! where is designed for me
Those five plates

Whats in between them
      *Him

We are opening Live- Five
Strong heart to give the caring
The useful heart is never so daring
My gate* Girls are nail digging
Hugging

Or losing add +

Flirty
*****
Our community
Heftier like Jupiter
Heart to build
the gravity
A big kiss hunch
of five roses

Your getting to bloom
but only have
5 extra movie parts
The front dress mermaid tail
Your heart delicate hands
opened up your emails
I think you hit the
Jackpot

Max to the million shot
No heart of gold
Only more leaders
Scrambling and digging
your fork
Mixing those egg beaters

Five men think they know
there women
like ten
commandments
Turn to five wrong
engagements
There it goes the lucky
five arguments

A plot beating
like a hot-shot
The French Baguette
Bread 9 to 5 firecracker
Five-carat baguette
wedding band in her safe
Heart digs to five hands
Heart neck guilty as a giraffe

The cafe house had only
5 cups left  they sold you out
Only Five Bed and breakfast
stayers
Do detailed with their Ladyfingers
But need more alone time
Be on time get sweet key lime
What is real-time so sublime

That rose- paper cut- origami
Sorcerer of five he was like the
cold cuts of big Sub Salami
Japanese sword samurai
What a Geronimo Oh! no
Jericho
This wasn't a hot potato

Or Gizmo No-Go
Getting a shot for Polio
The gusto songs to the heart play
Maestro the Cosmo's
The five stars to heart his
afterglow
Like a titanic ship but heroics

Five lunatics wedding horns ******
Five two timer Mario gamers
so demonic
DOMINO'S bed five students wed
We dug deeper get-up sleepy-head
Exposed cries location set
Network U- dig cups

Something lip curved
He misplaced my lips
What did he do in exchange
More stocks and hard stone rocks
Like frying pan egg
scrambled words

Crossed heart Rapper so believing
The Fox five sticking tacky glue
His CD Rose lying pants no clue
Painful pointed shoes need R&R
     Robin's *Responsibilities
       The Heart On Replay
The deeper you dig to restart

The healthy organically grown brain
Men on Pause I truly believe nature
takes its course
but another beat to go is that so?
And if so heart digs to five
Feel the good vibe in another tribe
Five times I had to wake you up
I am the love cure reminiscing

Giving me five reasons
Our beautiful change of
heart in season

Studying the fine art heart
Referencing
Never refusing thats life
five-step to strive nothing
Fancy

Robin shoutbox she getting
her point across
Either you're the worker or loner
The heart pleaser the boss
Your heart looks good
on your dress
Whether we win or deep mess
The good heart can change to
a bad start

Recharge your heart count to five
Venus- beauty moved on like a
pathologist digging over staying alive
The hearts what digs this is not the 9-5 workers we are talkers
and long settling in heart walkers come any join me we may actually be alive did I get a live one
athena Oct 2016
you were shrieking about your problems
your teeth were all about this material world
everything was all about you
because that's how you wanted it
you loved yourself
and only yourself

you were spitting money of all currencies and kind
you adore them like how i adore humankind
you boast loudly about the material things you own
you loved your things so much, you turned into one
and you think people would actually love you

boisterous laughs were hidden behind the old brick wall
the you i used to know were a pigment of the past
you are now pitch-black, self centered and selfish

the pit can simply be covered with mud or a beautiful plant
but you dig deeper and fall and ask for succor
because that's what you crave for after all
-because money, that's all you have.
Brandon Conway Sep 2018
Foot meets the metal of a cold shovel
with a sun beaming down
booted foot pushes the *****
into the soft and rooty ground

one mound of dirt
sweat forms above the brow
two mounds of dirt
salty bead slithers down
three mounds of dirt
tuned into the sounds
four mounds of dirt
birds chirp all around

stopped by a thick root
extra force must be used
give that shovel a pogo of boots
and we are at the fifth mound

six and seven are easy
as the hole starts to round
eight nine ten eleven twelve
a tomb has been found

carried your sheet covered corpse
laid you in the hole
cover you with what was uncovered
creating a man made knoll

Six years of memories
laid underneath this red dirt
many years missing
that time gone subvert
Callie Richter Oct 2018
imagine this.
you experience something
with another person
that typically involves
a great deal of
love and commitment.
but, you didnt want to.
this person didn't love you
nor were they commited to you.
this moment
is usually special
and meaningful.
but, you can't even tell me
if it was because
you dont know.
you dont remember.

welcome to my life.
i was the mere age
of fifteen.
i thought i loved him.

afterwords,
i didn't tell anybody.
instead,
i made excuses.
“i remember.”
“i wasn't drunk.”
“i wanted to.”
i spent six long months
suffering,
burying everything,
before i finally decided
it was time to tell my mom.

last month
my mom told me
i had a doctors appointment.
you see,
i have been consistently
losing weight and
i hadn't been sleeping at night.
when my doctor asked if
my mom could come in too,
i instantly knew something was wrong.
my mom looked into my eyes
and told me i needed to be honest.
i had no idea
what she was talking about.
“she was *****,”
my mom blurted.

you see,
after spending
six. *******. months.
alone,
burying everything
that i didn't want to think about,
just to have all that hard work
ripped apart
was heartbreaking.
no,
having someone i
loved and trusted
do something so awful,
so wrong,
that was heartbreaking.
but digging it all back up?
that was torture.
Cynthia Aug 2018
You dig a hole in the ground
You keep digging deep down
So the echo won’t slip
because your goal is to scream
Scream loud
to ease the pain inside
 
The dirt on your hands
is the hurt, the pain
You’ve been carrying around
Somehow you kept holding on
now freedom is what you seek

Fading memories is your dream
But what happens after you scream?

You have been carrying this weight
on your feet
feeling the heat
Blood flowing through your veins

Love turned into hate & trust into fear
So after all are you really at PEACE?

Then…
The battle with your mind begins
Because digging is no longer your escape
Your own fear has captured you in a cage
 
So you write it down on paper
Not in pencil but in pen
Because there are no mistakes
That can be erased
What’s done is done
And your shame cannot be wiped away
 
Once again you fight in the flesh
all you want is peace
And a resting place
Yet you seek no one but yourself.
Have no fear for He is with you
Seek Jesus let him be your escape
The one who fulfills that empty SPACE!
Ah.. shes here...I shuffle around the stalls... watching..out of the corners of my eyes.... she knows ....Intimacy...a hand on flank..careful..
.you'll break me....with your gentle hands..
..My hard mouth....your soft lips..
..unruly, unruled....old horse...a kiss.
.. Confused, ...stallion in name only.
... You whisper... My ears *****..
... forward..the hunt! ....your scent on..
..My bridle...I smell u still...
.. Calm...Comfort...Welcome...
.Gentled, not too gently....a strong hand.
. It grows trust …..truth...a Stallion! Once more.
Panting...pawing...'Be easy'..nervous eyes roll.
.a hand on the neck...a caress..'Gently '...you whisper,
.... hot breath against ear
… I snuffle and toss my head
…. still a bit frightened…..her power!
..Will you ride.? ! ..firm thighs and buttocks..
..Toes point... Heels dig...all Give and Take….
. Instruction to...from...the muscled beast.
..straddled. Awkward… too long without….
..A Rider … the matching... Gait with hip...
Walk-on.. Trot, pounding...Heels clip.
..faster, just a bit..Then smoothly they fit her to him.
...a canter.....this long stretch....rocking like one creature
….each a part of the other...breathing evenly…
...caught ….. Breath comes quick...bodies warm.
. Exertion...strength..trust.. Leaning forward..
knees grip..pulling...toes curl..in..
..hot breath..whisper in an ear… Now!
...hands grip mane... As they clench
… bit between the teeth...She..
...gives him his head... Finding his rhythm
…. home in sight...a last burst……
Rider/Stallion sweat soaked … blood pounding..There... againthe scent of her...Sweet Hay rising.
..she whispers… yes oh yes… I knew…
you had it in you.. In me...oh gods….YES! ! .
. No! not the pasture yet for you.. She chuckles..
.bodies tangled in sheets ….. Her mane of dark hair..
Scent of her fills him …
glad to be..Alive? Yes..head…. Heat…
heart...bursting…Not now… But soon.
. A gift.. This youth.. Who see's value in an old war horse.
..ridden.. but no more to war and blood..
.gentled, both he and she… sleep…bridled passion.
..her...a scent of sweet hay…
.him...an old spice..and gunpowder? ..mmm.
by Alexander K Hamilton
For my rescuer Bhudha. Run to the Bodi Tree
laura Oct 2017
started wearing surgical face masks
in public to hide zits
i dig the tiny apartments and the drift
of tokyo skylines
i dig the anonymity, paper thin walls
you can hear a neighbor
playing his guitar
sometimes i wish i could fly back
and live there forever
quit living with an abusive boyfriend
but he rich tho
hope he crashes his bike tho
MJL Mar 9
I’m here
No party
Who’s ****?
I'm not afraid
Everything’s primitive
New baby’s old
Suckling eternity
Carrying his mother
Teaching her father
A universe of historic shame
Threatening
The expanse of senseless
Intolerance
Grasping ignorance by the pores
Infant nails dig in and hold
Evolutions face of madness
Bloodshot
Biding a soiled fate
Biting for more
Sanity
Growing until -ism’s explode
Tears that crave change
Go forward
Moon Star Traveler
Be you
Be here with me
Recede against hate
Be one with the human race
Be one with the universe
Each generation brings us a step forward to ending intolerance.
we are sacred and scared just the same as ever
the passion and the rage never seems to dissipate
what shades and shadows shape our souls
the hourglass flowers towards never-ending spirals
humans are blessed with their own fragile memories
like spades and sparrows they dig holes and make nests in the sand
though we have escaped the trails and trellises of our transmutations
on trade-winds we still must sail to reach our destinations
Morgan Jan 22
I walk when I sleep. Usually putting away my children's toys and clothes. Mundane things like that. But I moved Earth in my backyard last night... Deep enough to hide the stench of something rotting and scare the neighbors.

A dog barks waking me.
My dreams were making me.
Panicked in a panic!
Everyone knows it's me, I'm the one who does it.
Hide the thing! Do it now! But tell me dream, what was it?

I know I was asleep and it's probably delusions, but Im feeling this is real and drawing blanks and no conclusions.

I threw the shovel on the ground with the fright of someone scared of themselves.
Like it was already covered in blood, like I'm covered in Guilt. But guilty of what? I know in my gut I did a thing, I have to cover.

Suddenly the fear of getting caught overrides the fear of being crazy and I start looking..
In the drawers, in the attic, in the shower, in cupboards in the kitchen, over, under, open everything. Because What if I'm not? Crazy sleep walker lady might be a luxury at this point. Right in the middle of wrecking my house and my brain searching for a clue there's a knock at the door. Three... loud
... thuds.

GREAT!! I open to find two very concerned very blue suited gentlemen responding to a neighbor complaint.
I get it! It's 4 in the morning and I'm digging a hole. And I say what? "It's fine I dig graves in my sleep it's no big deal have a nice day officers?" Well, the Comic relief in my mind was short-lived because now I'm stalling.

"Ma'am!"
"Huh?" "Why are you digging such a large hole at this time of night?" As if a smaller hole would be less insane.

Think! Think!...I got this. "Why are they concerned what I'm doing in my backyard? Why are they up even? I'm not making any noise." As soon as the words leave my mouth I realize I sound like a 13 year old girl who had her cell phone taken away.

"No need to get defensive ma'am, we just want to know what's going on." "Well you and me both!" I said to myself quietly in my brain but also out loud by accident.

"We need to come have a look around, just routine precautions to make sure everyone's okay" well this is not my routine. I'm about 90% sure I killed something in my sleep. That's what big scary holes in the ground are for, I wasn't building a sandcastle.

Then it hits me like a cement truck and other deadly puns,

My children!!!
"I need to go check on the kids." I said way too casually while walk running up the stairs as noticeably unnoticeable as possible. They follow me, obviously.

Kids are fine, sleeping, alive, didn't hear a thing.

The officers politely ask if they can look around, leaving out the part about for a dead body in your house.

I'm over this! I'm just going to say it.
"I sleepwalk and I do weird things when I sleepwalk, I don't hurt anything ("hopefully!") My thought interrupted loudly but managed to stay in my head this time. "I just move things around". And now I nervous giggle while I sway and fidget with my nightgown pretending not to be crazy which is what a crazy person would do.

They look at each other. They look back at me. I see a small trace of sympathy in their faces and pray I'm not mistaking it for "what is this crazy ***** talking about?" face... "We're just going to look around and then we'll get out of your hair."

They did! And they do! The scary part is over! unless of course I actually killed somebody, then it's right before the scary part.

Back to the search!

I look outside behind the fence. I look in the black hole underneath the seat of my car where I once put a bag of mini snickers but maybe for a different reason.  I come back inside, check the places I've looked already with the exception of one. My silverware drawer.

I opened it to find no silverware but a notebook. I hesitantly open up the cover to the front page. Letters in my handwriting. A note written to myself that reads

"Dear Self, don't freak out if you do something weirder than laundry while you're sleeping tonight. You watched one too many lifetime movies yesterday and it's sitting in your subconscience. Everything is fine, you're beautiful, youre an amazing mother and an amazing wife! - Love, You" I sigh and laugh at my ridiculousness! Overwhelmed with relief, that while I completely forgot doing it, I loved myself enough to take the time and write this note of reassurance and confirmation.

Then I remembered, I have a husband.
I have a husband who once slept through a 3.5 earthquake and I have not checked on him. I turn to run to our bedroom,

but not before I stopped to look around the kitchen because what the heck happened to the silverware?
This is more of a short story but I hope whoever takes the time to read it finds it as entertaining as it was to write! Thanks!  :)
Iska Feb 2018
The false crisendo of your words
Grate against my every nerves.
Wandering round
With ****** feet
How many expectations
Have I failed to meet?

What more do you want
Of my sorry soul
When I cannot bring
My self to breath anymore?

So I watch your hopes
all tumbling down
It feels quite cold
Down here in the ground.
I'm sorry that I wasn't enough
I tried to be what you asked of me
But I didnt think it'd be So tough.

My weary bones creak and ache,
My wrist all burned and ******,
Can you not be quite just once for my sake?

I understand the gravity.
I know Im failing at life,
But you dig right in,
spreading the cavity,
How to ignore the strife?

Whispered arguments bleed through the walls
How much longer until we fall?
Through the floor straight down to hell
All because I could not tell.

Should I weep in pain,
And slave away,
To satisfy you're whimsical ways?
Should I sell my soul,
And bite my tongue,
Just to keep the wallet full?
But "your so young,
You've no excuse,
So bend your back,
Put those hands to use."

Welcome to life.
Put away your pain,
No time for strife,
No time for play,
Just nod you head,
Exit the stage,
And get a job,
So you'll be payed.

I'd sooner live a poor church mouse,
Then lose myself in persute of a house.
But no, I'll smile my candy grin,
And talk with sugar sweet.
Hide the weight of the pain,
So your expectations, I'll meet.
Some times it's just not enough.
Lazhar Bouazzi Dec 2017
Make this want wither,
O Rain!

Dig a brook hither
In my vein,

And plant on either side
Of my pain -

Swaying thousands
Of bluebells.
LazharBouazzi (December 15, 2017)
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