Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
CK Baker Apr 2017
i had a dream
i was flying
in the arms
of this grande old kite
and we drifted through canyons
and across flowered fields
over endless pastures
and restless seas

i looked down
somewhere near
the haldimand half-point
and saw friends
and patrons
smiling
while the busy keepers
of oasis
were singing
and loosening their vowels

familiar faces
were everywhere
and it was warm
and serene
they were charting courses
and building dreams
laying praise
untarnished by imposing views
and as much as i tried
i couldn’t express my gratitude

when i woke
i was lying
with an angel
at my back
whose eyes
were wide
and blue
and her words came crystal clear;
kindness will not be sold

and as i turned
to reach her hand
the rain had gathered
and washed away
a stain
For Jack and May
Daisy Marrow Jul 2013
I found you in the cracks of winter. On our first date, we drank tea from cups bigger than our faces. You also told me you wrote poetry. I noticed how every time you would lick your lips before you would speak. The first time you read me a poem your window was open and it was raining. Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat six times. I was smitten. After our third date, I showed you my favorite place in the world. I took you to a bay on the outskirts of town. I told you the stories I carved into the sand a long time ago. I told you I came here every time the world kept turning but I felt as though I've fallen off, waiting for a guitar solo crash or a midnight knock on my window.

I wanted to tell you, you were my midnight knock. You let me hold your book of poems that night. There were bite marks in them from when you said you climbed up in trees back when you were as tall as the kitchen counter. We had conversations of Bon Iver and soccer as we laid on the sandy bay.

I realized that night I wanted to be there with you when the clock swallows up your time and watch indie movies on Netflix when there is nothing good on TV. I turned to look into space and swallowed all my feelings. I felt hollow when I looked at you and noticed your skin was old and tired. But you looked at me like you were young. You said I was the first to make you feel this way. I was smitten.

At first, I looked at you like a star but ended up seeing the whole solar system.
Secret-Author Mar 2016
I cannot move
I cannot be
Sailing alone
On this sea
Towards who knows
Or who can say
Oh so lonely
Like every day
zumee Apr 26
what are lies
if not
sɥʇnɹʇ ƃuᴉʎɟǝp-ʎʇᴉʌɐɹƃ
Keith W Fletcher Apr 2018
All along that grey draped zig-zagging shoreline
The men sat or stood in resolute silence
Each trying to reach back into minds
Scrambled like eggs by the fear of impending violence

Soon the hard faced men will open the gates
As the race will start as hearts will change pace
Then by push and twist they load like cattle
Into great grey hulking hearse's barely floating
Plunging through grey roiling seas toward thunder
Echoing across the channel quotation marks of the battle

That rages ,engages not turning ÷ripping out pages of history
When the water turns red punctuated by the floating dead....
........The question marks and periods
Exclamation marks in the book thats still being written ...
        ......to what end?
That is what makes any plot a vagrant thought
With a premise being an unresolved mystery
Such are .....
The vagaries of the ever repeating chapters of human history!
As I looked upon the
Whispers of the forming
Clouds.
So, shaped like a family of ducks
in their times.
Revealed to me the caspered calm and
Distinct instinct and ‘gifts’ to
Float, without prior education.
Towards the sky forests in
Ease and love.


(c) copyrighted
A poem about nature
Shofi Ahmed Oct 2018
Jumping in the blue
water lilies reflection
in the pond up in the sky.
Lo, the punter sun peeps into
the rose dew down on earth.
Floating just on a navel-high!

The broad daylight pictures
the heavenly blue smile
painting on its highwater mark.
Million and one primula flower
kissing this elfin column.
Not up in the wild blue yonder
nor down on the ground.
Just on a navel high!
the moon light above your skin
your edges moving
making my head spin
the taste
the smell
all new
but felt so familiar
like I've been there before
your body
floating
your hair between my fingers
you touch everything so blue
darling,
but my body
is crimson like fire

[and my eyes turned black like I'd known all your secrets]
divinity m Sep 2018
we are floating where the oxygen is thin
high above the clouds
and rising continually higher
with each drag we take
from the small harmless blunt

we are buzzing with the bees
more tipsy than the tulips make them
and getting more dizzy
with each swallow we take
from the burning liquor

we are happier than a blind person
who sees colors for the first time
even though we are losing vision
because we start to view the world
in only thin white lines

we are full of laughs and giggles
as we pump our bodies with more chemicals
than a pump puts gas into a car
because we are much too far gone
as we turn ourselves into a human pincushion.
:/
Eleanor Feb 22
floating
on a glass green sea
serenity in spite all

and yet,
serenity is not destined to stay

drowning
as glass turns to shards,
crying out for salvation
dying out
for no one responds

sinking,
with the realization
the sea was never truly serene
L B Sep 2018
“Some people are never far away...”

I am thinking this--
bouncing tipsy on pool floaty
at my daughter's new home
in 'burbs of Philly
Sipping wine
on a pool floaty
thinking this--
  
abstractly

Sipping wine
in odd peace
on a pool floaty
cool and soft, the water
Cicadas scour the air

...Knowing it's not true....

I had watched them from my porch
leaving –
since the day they came
They –
and the robins too, headed south now
tumbling in their groups
that garble time
that sketch horizon
with a maze of staggered lines
Watching
geese--
their backs and wings gleam
in golden V
across the sunset

They are honking as they rise, raucous
from river in their flight
My daughters do the same  
Migrating south from Scranton
waving, honking til their cars have turned the corner
out of sight

...on a pool floaty
fully clothed
I watch them
drenched in the darkening sky
tasting salty streams

Intoxicating sounds
their laughter
their voices--
How I love....

cicada droning
in the lush of background green

I will keep this moment clutched
to me
all I have of them
between these moments

I live between moments
of nothing and everything
This week at my daughter's new home-- hottest day of the year.  We hung out in the pool for several hours, enjoying.
Andie Apr 2018
The piano resounds, flooding us over with the mood
Counting headlights on the highway, take me away
It's a moon eclipsed, and my newfound flame, I guess you're lucky
that it's dark now
Sometimes this has a hot sweet taste;your breath’s hot and gross, but I kiss you like a lover. We're dancing in a world alone - if I unchain my soul, you can never let me go
I sink into you like water, be gentle with me have patience with me
we sink like a stone in your honey ~ just beware the bees
Heaven is in your eyes, and you hold me hard in the white light
We love like star-crossed lovers, with blind eyes, and when you call me beautiful all four flash with joy
Call it what you want, but we both know that everything is eventual
I'd like it if you stayed, but is it better to speak or die?
Welch, McLaughlin, Yelich-O'Conner, Lucas, Brasington, Aciman
inspirations
quoted
written
we bloom
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2018
Dancing the billow in the sea
the cool one will show up
deep down from the deep
with the flute on the lips.

Listen to the flute!
The chorus clouds bang out
floating by the river blue,
they sing down the sky as they move.

The sun draws in
from the secret valley
ambling with the wonder light
as if it, the punter sun, in the sky
knew it, knows the flutist
rose from down the sea!

There is no stop in the solar disc.
Twirling around the inner music
every orb, every planet is a bee.

The waning and waxing Moon
in silhouette and at half-light
swings over the sea.

It all starts from the ground;
it was from our sea waterfront
Him the creative sweetheart in the midst
floated the leading light the bumblebee.
All the stars bubble in the galaxy
they know this ancient story!

Since then the brightest bulb
the sun in the solar ring  
leads the bunch’s mindful
butterfly dance on the way home.
Following the enduring haunting melody
of the pre-design command ‘qun’ be!
A poem from my upcoming book Qun: Love is Conditionless
Mary Gay Kearns Mar 2018
If I read you I might get you wrong
Resting eyes in the places that do not
Belong
Or awkward mistakes of vision;
From this I refrain
In order that I can love you
Without discrimination
Not knowing what it is
That you are
Floating beside me
My daily weathercock.


Love Mary **
For all those I love .
Pyrrha Jan 31
In a world where gravity is a constant
it's so strange that I always seem
to find myself floating back to you
and yet you are still falling

just barely out of my
                                         reach
Kewayne Wadley Jun 2018
I swirled in a ocean of brown.
Venting in steam.
My drown overlapped by current
On top of current.
I swirled around and around,
swimming in sugary spec.
I once dreamed of dry land.
Loosing my footing on the edge of a spoon.
The top of a pink packet torn off.
Sprinkled on my head.
There was no sense in fighting.
One single serving brewed.
It was exciting to feel myself swirl,
All I'd ever know.
around and around.
All I'd ever know.
The more I drunk the more evident it became.
The here after in addiction.
Sweet in taste.
My skin dipped in heart of something so delicious.
I swirled around in an ocean of brown.
Her eyes.
Never once did it occur that I couldn't gulp them.
I still tried.
Lost forever in Mocha flavored aroma
CK Baker Jan 2017
I can’t wait
to be a hundred
turning over the thoughts
and plots
of Caledon
floating
on zimmer inserts
and dusted florsheims
three steps forward
in a dream woven
summer afternoon

through the
barn doors
and bee keeper flats
assimilating voices
from Sachems
and Forbes
and Hope Healers
coming and going
as the countryman
comes
and goes

you can feel it
in a place like this
the 3 in the tree memories
from Allis Chalmers
to combine parts
of Sundrim poppers
to shallow carp fields
the patterned lawsons
and fading caulk
(with ripped and rolled
frontier seats)

it’s a wishing well
for the peddler
and bold hydrangea...
both peeking their way
through
the rusted
grinders wheel
sara Jun 2018
She washes her hands in egg whites,
picking out stray shell pieces.
Sitting as still as the morning- quiet,
while the kettle sets itself a-steaming.
She hears that same Chinese flute
drifting down the hallway,
slipping universal truths
under each hotel room doorway.
She looks to the rain in the hills
like sorrowful sailor's wife;
a day could be time for a dream fulfiled
or the time that the rivers run dry.
I honestly have no idea why this took such a turn, I think I must be hungry
Azaria Apr 2018
you move me: like
the way the air feels in
spring
dropping nuggets:
like seeds
in the ground
your fingers:
an extension
of my laughter
kissing your lips:
like inventing a
new season
smitten: like bees in
nectar
endlessly falling.
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2018
On the very edge the living earth
dared to replicate Queen Fathima
The Queen of Heaven’s footstep.
That way is the destination de jour
graced by thousands of prophets of God!

In the name of Allah she descended
on the Night of the Ascending.
From the Night of Measures unlike the rest
none can enumerate it yet an unnumbered zone
in the perfect geometrised transcended location.  

The earth steps in the gap making way for her:
The only asymmetric golden ratio.
Slips out to the symmetric prophet flock!
Sequenced in symmetric phi she moves on
in the veil, reveals her unique divine relation,
the front burner for sure is ever closer to God!

So pretty she is the paragon work of art
the sunrise amidst the eternal night.
Her beauty in her shadow is burning fire.
She is 'Zahra' pure light the luminary dynamo
the only one woman had no shadow!

The great women flocked and mirrored the earth.
Treading across every atom on that angle
perfectly aligned down the Moon.
Until those beneath the skin atoms
bang, explode, on approaching the behemoth,
the vibration beneath Fathima’s foot!

The ocean billows up
floating on the clouds.
Choreographed like a little dew
hanging low on the rose.
Just to drop down on that hot spot
like a cool honey drop.

Even the Moon on the horizon
fancies to sip from this drop.
Ah, the lunar punter is rowing down.
The sleeping beauty wakes up
eyes are on the silver dance.
Eying on every star in the night
the Moon is floating down.
The seven seas sing out in the dark
bubbling with exuberant fireflies
that would gleefully rock the moonlight boat
over to the cup of this pretty little drop.  

Poetry in motion is a sea on the ground
the same is known as the Moon in the sky!
The storylines jump ever more
on that way over the shady grove.
Painting the colour of the winds
the sky rains down on that spot
singing the sweetest title song.  

Never was a woman prophet of God
to the one primitive woman, the leading lady
'Sayeedatun Nessa' Queen Fathima
heaven is no secret, it is an open mirror!
For her heaven is made an open book
the first batch of houris came to be
tuning into the sounds of her toes.
The earth in its primitive water first moved on
bang, Big Bang, soon she drops in it her hair lock.
She's the hidden gem in the secret end of God!

For the planetary ebb and flow on the way heaven
the planet earth is the only stepping stone.
No matter how many times more it tries on
there will still be an unturned stone.
Until the very one woman, the original
the Queen Fathima steps on.

Her presence connects the dots
the nadir and zenith perfectly line up
intersect into one grand perfect circle.
She will close it with the pi once for all
without a gap spilling new decimal.
Putting it all on the map ‘as above, so below’,
all in all, like it's in pure scientia scenario.

Heaven will open its grand door
where the queen will stand on.
No more reverse engineering physically
the original, Fathima will step on,
on the last turned stone.
From the one great woman
paradise starts from here on
from beneath the mother’s foot!
The water edge laps at my feet.
I cannot imagine the depth of its reach,
Nor can I fathom the whole body ****** out before the horizon.

There is something alluring about the freshness of it all.
Caress against my thighs, the wetness
Wrapping around my limbs.

Let me mingle,
With your murky waters...
May I touch your bed?
Coarse at first until I mold it into my desire.

The airy hole keeps me afloat.
Please be patient, for my lack of it is withholding me.
Benign ache lingers, that needs to dissolve...

Seeking only the shallow end for now, where the warmth can never leave.
I may drown if I go further...
A chance of worth do you see?
Any feedback about layout or general poetic insight will be appreciated!
Shofi Ahmed Nov 2017
Sometimes the day smiles
shows me its colour.
No, then the wild blue yonder
doesn’t look to be far
I feel like I got the wings to fly.

But who would sway away
when the rose under the nose
floating on a sea of colour?

The luminary punter too
drops down from the sky.
Paints the broad daylight
as it sails down on its silky way.

Ah, the southern breeze
bends with the rose of the day
peeps in the colour before my eyes.
I could only see missing my butterfly.
Seanathon Apr 2
I am a bubble fluctuating
On its way to the surface, evaluating
How it will be to be one with sky again, once I am out of the sea
I’ll be bursting free and culminating into a timeless cloud
Into the air which was always meant to be me
Yes, towards the surface I go to be free
Free - Bubble
RJP Jan 15
The long walk to stop death tonight.
Could do it blind, done it a hundred times.
Staving off sleep to halt the long dream,
Becoming breathless so breath can be free.
Strange looks from empty taxis
And the figures hiding amongst the black trees.
Lone strides through the mist of moonlessness,
Streetlamp stars guiding the way,
Guiding through the pain.
The weight of morality clinging to eyelids and footstep speed,
Interrupting darks quiet and normality.
The long walk what pushes it on;
The thought of a guilt-full eulogy,
What more could I have done.
eng jin Apr 2018
a familiar tune
breaking through the morning news
Oh yes,
it’s loy krathong

humming along the tune
ah, I should remember
to put a thanksgiving basket
onto the river
for the goddess of water

as the candles flow
may the light
in your heart
continues to glow
Next page