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Paul Hansford Jan 2016
there is a distance
between us
more than distance

something

not a wall
not impenetrable
a fence

a security fence
easy enough for our words
our thoughts
to pass through  
easy enough to breach
from time to time  
to allow access
to our innermost feelings

but so easy
to reinforce

too easy
when things get tough
when doubts arise

when protection
seems more important
than communication
Lyn Senz 2 Aug 2017
memories get so intense
whenever I go near life's fence
and all the wrong they've done and said
stays strong they've won inside my head
dear water helps to ease the pain
from thoughts that hurt and haunt my brain
still calmness felt from delta's blast
will not erase my troubled past
so I return to serta's grip
to dull my mind with every sip
to let the poison set time free
to quiet noise inside of me
my well of blame my pail of whys
my hell my shame I authorize
my preacher whether night or day
I reach for where the lighter lay
and burn up one more cigarette
and yearn for one I can't forget
oh memories get so intense
whenever I go near life's fence


©2017 Lyn
Arjun Tyagi Aug 2018
Across the span of fissures,
Marring a weather worn land,
Two, of The Elements toiled,
Splinters biting into their hands.
Air and Fire,
Barefoot and tired,
From opposite ends of the world,
Planks in hand, their journey transpired.
Towards the centre that was chaos,
That was disorder and fear,
Of what happened when the Elements met,
When they had come near.
Colossal the effect, Air fuelling Fire,
Fire enveloping Air,
The energy too intense,
Their bodies it sheared.
Thus, eternally wary, since
That time of Destruction,
They sought to overcome,
A life growing into dysfunction.
For a land remains empty,
Without fire to be the Dark's fall,
For Air in an empty land,
Gives life to none at all.
Thus they build,
each passing step,
A fence with sins inscribed,
To remember the sacrifice.
To understand what they were,
When coming close would not hurt,
When they could let live in peace,
Instead of driving the world into the dirt.
Ivan Brooks Sr Jan 2018
Before all of this, even after all of this, I will forever be a patriot.
Before the poet in me matured and I started talking like a parrot,
The dogs of war barked and I climbed exile's fence on my own
And there I have dwelled, with nothing tangible to bring me down.

I have been on this fence so long and I will remain there forever!
Especially since the premature child is still in the incubator.
From this vantage point, I have learned never to trust any politician
I've always looked at them with mistrust, disdain, and suspicion,

Before all of this  and before I ran and climbed the exile fence,
I was once mercilessly flogged, dragged and made to dance
By drugged up and coerced child soldiers with a rubber cable
They tied and spread me like a dog on the market table
I watched as innocent people were killed with a rusty knife
There, I vowed to become a fence dweller for the rest of my life!

I've been a patriot all my life but I have done it from here..safer.
From here I have seen blood spilled, hearts broken, hopes dashed,
progresses stalled, mullions embezzled, promises broken, lies told
people changed, games played, party surfed, interests prioritized.
And from this vantage point, I have learned never ever to trust any politician
I have always been right...though I have looked on with disdain, suspicion,
and operated with caution but through it all, I have remained a true patriot and a fence dweller.

.✍️©️✍️IvanBrooksPoetry.✍️©️✍️
''Fence dweller'' was a phrase I coined in justification of my neutrality and abstinence from politics in my homeland, Liberia.This piece encapsulates a fringe of the story of the ****** civil war, carnage and horrible things that we saw and had to endure as a people and nation.
September Roses Dec 2018
Lemon drop notes play across my lips
Spring is here
The grass is velvet green
White gold dances in our eyes as we look towards the sky
We sip sweet tea
And listen to an old radio
Out on the back porch
Staring over the fence
Sugary laughter comes from the fields
The light comes early
And the birds sing like honey
Oh spring
Isnt it sweet
Nothing turns this angel down
Excellence, in the flesh
And if they try, an evening gown
In satin works the best

Is beauty deeper than the skin?
Surely she'll impress
Instead of showing what's within
She forces you to guess

Eyes of gold been tarnished brown
By tears that have been wept
Dark and shining locks abound
Make up for shades not kept

Sin runs red in times of blue
Every angel's seen
Temptation's there to carry you
When you have lost your wings

Consider but the outside shell
For that is most well-known
Appearing to be straight from hell
To garnish feelings shown

How could she be so mean, you ask?
What makes her be so spiteful?
Why can't she see it's not a mask
That makes her feel delightful?

Lies frozen, held through time
In silent desperation
Hiding at the scene of the crime
A ****** confrontation

To free the memories from her head
Would unleash such a fear
She'd rather end the night instead
As not to feel him near

Ah, here's the one; the big bad wolf
That's haunted all her dreams
Whom proved too well by wearing wool
All are not as they seem

But I am ****, but skin and fur
And showing her my core
And telling her the parts that hurt
While donning nothing more

He's changed her mind, she's cast astray
But I could be the shepherd
To keep the hungry wolves at bay
As countless dogs endeavored

One light can only shine so much
Before the flame has died
To reignite it just a touch
Of love might satisfy

Surely there is nothing worse
Than feeling left to dry
Entrapped within a lover's curse
And never knowing why

Well, in defense of self-defense
I must admit it's snide
To hang a face upon the fence
Until you've picked a side

It's safe, my friend, just be yourself
Strip down to nothing hidden
And let emotion feed your health
By eating the forbidden

A heart must be coaxed from its hide
With tenderness and passion
In order for the passersby
To notice what has happened

From way out here it's hard to tell
But underneath a soul
That liberates a girl of twelve
Longs for a soul to hold

To hold would mean to carry, too
When harsh times rear their heads
To be the one to follow through
When love needs to be fed

But most of all it means to dress
With confidence or loathing
Just make sure you can impress
A saint in Sinner's clothing
Brain pictures
Mara W Kayh May 2017
I am your bird of prey

Caught between 2 posts
And a glistening fence.

Neck broken,
beak to the ground,
Half way trapped inside
your field of green.

I am your bird of prey,

Wings on a wire,
Still soft and light,
with feathers gleaming
where promise of flight,
newly broken, fell to earth.

'Twas passion that lured me to your
nest, where the cloud kissed Sun
with time
turned ashen my listless frame.

A testament to nature's seduction,
there was no escaping
your embrace
As the warmth
slowly left
my still
beating
heart.
Inspired by a beautiful Robin I found yesterday, stuck in a fence I had put up around a field of garlic.. it must have fluttered to death, trying to escape.
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.
Purcy Flaherty Feb 2018
I’ll be sitting on the fence;
until the cows come home,
You can steal my thunder,
and you can break my bones.
Blood is thicker than water
and you’re the apple of my eye,
you may steal my thunder,
but you're a blessing in disguise,
Because honey!
You're just so easy on the eye,
It’s true I’m shallow;
but you're so easy on the eye.
I like the way you walk,
I like the way you talk,
I like the way you move,
I like the way you groove,
I like the way you scream,
I like the way you shout,
I like the way you spit, (Swollow)
I like the way you pout!
Because honey
You're just so easy on the eye,
It's trues you're a monster;
but you're so easy on the eye!
conceited, self image,  narcissistic
Cassie Jan 28
I see the white picket fences
Even you have one
I worry I’ll never get mine

The fence I have is around my heart
I want someone to cut it open
But I’m afraid no one wants to

I’m afraid that I can never be loved
That no one will want to call me theirs
Maybe I try to hard
But I’m just being me

My mom says I’ll find someone
“You’re so beautiful” they say
Then why don’t I see that

I hope you can break down my fence
Open the gate and walk right in
But please close it behind you
And hopefully never leave
Rohan Press Aug 2018
the body turns
and trembles
and opens

you didn't tell
me that the green
was closing in

but the fence nailed
open
and turns
and trembles.
Lawrence Hall Mar 22
Hart-Bevil Cemetery, Tyler County, Texas



From service as Companions of the Conqueror
To the democracy of death and dust


This was family land in the long ago
Now alienated from the living
Accessible through permissions and locks
But we and the ghosts are okay with that

They say that only four of them were hanged
The dealer in false deeds died of old age
Some possibly were saints; hard to believe
For after all, we are de Beauville’s kin

From Normandy, and then green Chesterton
And then dispersed to the colonies
At the convenience of His Majesty
De Beauvilles and Bevilles and then Bevils

And some are buried on this lonely knoll
Dim mossy bones and stones among the pines
Across the fence a little heap of glass
Broken flower vases from the dime store


Now the democracy of dust and death
But once
                    Companions of the Conqueror
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.

Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  The Road to Magdalena, Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play, Lady with a Dead Turtle, Don’t Forget Your Shoes and Grapes, Coffee and a Dead Alligator to Go, and Dispatches from the Colonial Office.
george glass Dec 2015
my childhood was removed from me
inside of a blue mustang
and what remained after that
I tried to barter off the highest bidder
but I grew,
not up,
but forward
further away
slowly releasing
hands of defiance
fists chock full of hopeless words
like anger, the flavor that aches the bone,
the cold kind,
more barren than the green of Christmas lights
glimmering off the icy veneer of a white picket fence
overeager, in the apathy of theatrics,
to strip off the remainder
because the empty feeling that followed
might one day
make a decent poem
L B Aug 2018
Katydids and fireflies have the levee tonight
Swat team held the day

There is peace now
and peeping neighbors
emptying horror
among themselves in whispers
left to wonder
‘bout the screaming and the barking
of earlier that day

“Put down your weapon and come out
with your hands up”

Again and again
the demand of surrender
Total
There is no other way

“Let them go!
Come out! come out with your hands up!
It will be okay”

…and he argues in his mind with the shame and loss
…and the shame and "No…it will not be okay"
He had hit her! Hit her with the Gun
again and again…with the gun
Of his demands
The gun of his power
to make her!
The gun of his despair
He had hit her
the dog is barking
His children scream!

“Put down the gun and come out
with your hands up!”

How many more times will they say it!
for all the neighbors to hear
on a loud speaker
Surrender!
in front of his children
Had she cheated?
Had he lost his job?
Could he lose any more to the screaming?
to the "junk"?
to the flashing lights?
to the window's smashing?
Fence run down?
Lobbing
canisters of tear gas
into the room's stinging eyes
where there is no room
where there is no time

"I would never hurt them!
You!
You know!"
"Let them go!"
"You left me!"

“Put down your weapon and come out
with your hands up!”

It is all too loud
It is all too much
as you put the gun against your temple and…
pull the trigger
This happened today-- two houses away.  I could hear it all and sometimes I feel this way.
King Panda Jan 2018
the sun beats
loose fence stakes into
the ground
and I kiss each ray
as if it were
my own child

the sky rains down
a corpse of butterflied
snow

its wings—
a brace
to bend my
broken legs straight

my love
begins to crawl
setting the dry
snow aflame
burning patterns
in the mandala
snowfall

sun’s flame
whips its invisible
lion

snow lets the
growl pass through

and my bones
cackle
setting straight
the image of
sunny snowfall
this sunday
morning
King Panda Feb 2016
I know the flowers better everyday
their twisting stems
their curtain petals
their floating spice

I know the flowers better everyday
their capillary roots
their plum faces
their purple stamens

I know the flowers better everyday
their shaking seeds
their modest thorns
their unabashed lust for the sun

I know the flowers better everyday
I know the sun will rise
I know the clouds will rain
I know my daughter will laugh

I know the flowers better everyday
I’ll draw a fence for flowers
I’ll draw a muzzle for the sheep
I’ll draw a number for the man to crunch

I know the flowers better everyday
I know how lovely it is to feel
grass in between toes
the breath of a boa
the embrace of home

I know the flowers better everyday
I am forty
I am a mother
I love fearlessly
Inspired by *The Little Prince*
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