Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
patty m Apr 2016
From the winds they were spun,
notes that formed music, ethereal and sweet,
and from the stars, poetry sifted
into melody creating song.
    . . . How gloriously the blood stag rises.
sniffing air sweet with supplication
each syllable is a warm caress
each scent a flowered note
sifting softly through air.
        She watches them take flight,
shimmering stars or merely embers
falling to earth light as rain?
How easily their touch dispels heartache,
wrapped in moonlight and blue shadow,
anointed with the fragrance of spruce.

A rose becomes a kiss whose petals caress lips
with velvet softness. . .
Silent night, the entire forest is alight with magic fire.

. . . "Yet secret is poem's end,"
she says with a conspiratorial wink,
before running swift as summer fawn
scattering petals in her wake.

Gaia, bless this fern filled home.
ablaze with starlight and magic
the creatures of earth bow to you mother
all earth is green and new,
glistening
patty m Nov 2018
From the winds they were spun,
notes that formed music, ethereal and sweet,
and from the stars, poetry sifted
into melody creating song.
    . . . How gloriously the stag rises.
sniffing air sweet with supplication
each syllable a warm caress
each scent a flowered note;
        She watches them take flight,
shimmering stars or merely embers
falling to earth light as rain?
How easily their touch dispels heartache,
wrapped in moonlight and subtle shadow,
anointed with the fragrance of spruce.

A rose becomes a kiss whose petals caress lips
with velvet softness. . .
Silent night, the entire forest is alight with magic fire.

. . . "Yet secret is poem's end,"
she says with a conspiratorial wink,
before running swift as summer fawn
scattering petals in her wake.

Gaia, bless this fern filled home.
ablaze with starlight and magic
the creatures of earth bow to you mother
all earth is green and new,
glistening
JP Mantler Mar 2018
I promise I'll be on my best behavior
But I hear a thing calling me for the keys
As lofty as I try, they drop into oblivion
Serious, I better come back to inhibit
The picture opens up sideways
And they single me out like a crusty chutzpah
The peeling pages ffffffffffffff nnnn
Coccinellidae attacks his family grave light
A nod to the growling and glistening moray next to me
He is big, and he is covered in my spit -- I tell him one
Find a better party whose postponed
I have no idea what this one is about.
English Jam Feb 2018
She is a ruler, proud in her glory
Sets hearts to flame, turns lovers to screams
Her nails alone are ripped from a story
Reduces soldiers to men without mean

Eyes marble-black, with sharp slits in the centre
Hair that waves as though in water
Glistening red as crowds begin to enter
They know her tales, but none have caught her

What she requires - they all deliver
Her voice is a choir - that makes all shiver
She doesn't walk
She struts

Bends over in a seductive style
Caresses villainy in her seat
Crooning, intentions hidden all the while
Inaudible but the tread of her feet

March, march, march on to the drums
The Dark Majesty never forgets
Absorbing herself in hymns and hums
Oblivious to drunken admissions of regret

Queen of tyranny will never rest
But for serenity - she fails the test
She's majestic
But joy eludes her
There's a song by Queen called The March of the Black Queen that was the chief inspiration to this. Give it a listen, it's simply amazing.
glistening
morning dew

the sky
a golden hue

you’re in bed
with someone new

you are in love
with only you

you say we’re done playing
this hurtful little game

ruining the reputations
of both our names

but when I suggest
we start taking things serious

you respond by telling me
that you are still curious

about the bodies with which
you haven’t yet had sx

every time you say it, you break me
like I’m one of your objects

you think I don’t know you?
we’ve already met

took me a while
didn’t realize at the outset

your face is different
now you’re a brunette

but the game’s always the same
and it hasn’t changed yet

say whatever you can
just to make her wet

say what she wants to hear
and what you want, you’ll get

“tell her she’s the only one you’re talking to
her dress might hit the floor”

“tell her that you care
she might let you make her sore”

“tell her you can’t breathe without her
she might let you go hrdcre”

“but if you tell her that you love her……….
then you’re guaranteed to score”

so I know what you do
and I know who you are

and right now you’re in bed
with Red Crop Top from the bar

she’s still sleeping so you text me
“I love you,” with a heart

wow...
even Pinocchio’s nose couldn’t stretch that far

you’re in bed
with someone new

so the blame
goes to you

because I can’t be happy
without you

but I can’t be happy
with you too

you break hearts and promises
it makes me blue

if only I could
get over you

I can’t get over
while I’m still under

you’ll never love me
that will be your greatest blunder

you make my heart break
can you hear its thunder

I wanna text back
but you’re with her

I’m sure last night
is still a blur

quick! put the phone down
she’s beginning to stir

she’ll say “good morning”
with a seductive purr

you’ll search your mind for a name
but you can’t remember her

“was she really worth my pain?”
my mind will wonder

but I decide to reply…..
“I love you too”

glistening
morning dew

the sky
a golden hue

and you’re in bed
with someone new
This is the same poem as my poem Glistening, but this includes extra verses, a more emotional and powerful ending, and the rearrangement of some verses.
danna22081 Feb 19
It might be said:

He walked alone,
Through the woods of ancient roots,
Within endless shrubs of glistening-green stems,
And aging, decomposing fruits.

He ran along the maze of bushes,
As though escape was distant...
Concentration,
Expertise no longer consistent.

He tripped, stumbled,
Tumbled
Along the snakes of vines,
Which promised him care, comfort,
Contentment intertwined.

As the mouse was promised love by the cat,
Vines were no longer able to maintain their caution for the boy,
For he slipped through their bare, smoothed curls
Of stems, and dislocated his purpose for living.

He fell into the cave of confusion,
Psychological transfusion,  
No longer riveted by the significance in living,
And prior to anybody’s realisation,
Of his surreal, realistic, reality of life,
Took his own, upon individual discretion.
Mental Illnesses are not jokes. Many individuals have committed suicide, due to influences of their surrounding community, and wider society.
Kenya83 Aug 2018
With the most beautiful sincere brown eyes that reveal more than they realise.
Connection.
Touching. Underneath clothes...
Warm oil drips on skin, glistening Candlelight, delicate, sensual...
Hands, bodies. Lips, skin...
It was all a dream
ottaross May 2014
A hammer upon the landscape.
Thunder like a toppling mountain.

Flashes like x-ray explosions.
Supernova surprise.

Sheets of rain.
Glistening-rebar javelins
Pierce the asphalt
Shatter the concrete.

Long shards of glass
From the grey
Steel-wool clouds.
laura Oct 2017
Spurs in a grass hill
wind blowing up your skirt
honey and money
sweet and selfish

i like you touching my body
and i like touching yours
love oddity bright city
and glistening sun gilded skin

i need my fishing rod
when im around you
need the compliments that i might
complete your outfit by the end of night
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.
lmbf Aug 2018
In the pale blue veins of my wrist I spot my parents' joy, her smile, my friends' laughter.
In the pale blue veins of my wrist therein lines a faint outline of the Manhattan skyline at night; all natural and manmade wonders intertwined.
In the pale blue veins of my wrist I see myself speaking to a family of immigrants, and changing their world by offering them the same pathway into this nation of immigrants that I was afforded so many years ago.
In the pale blue veins of my wrist I see the afternoon sun glistening on her back by the water, and I see the thought of seeing her, loving her once again.
In the pale blue veins of my wrist I see the potential for regrowth.
Repair.
In these pale blue veins I see the possibilities of learning to live and love once again.
Summer Freewrite Sessions 2018 //
When I was 10, I had recurring thoughts of wanting to hurt myself. I wanted to fully visualize the pain I felt inside by seeing it play out in front of me. But everytime I do, I think of pale blue, and how in this world there is so much more I have to give and do. Hope this helps at least one soul out there.
"There are always more reasons why not."
PS shoutout to my English teachers for teaching me literary terms/techniques, this brief return to poetry wouldn't have been possible without you all!
kevin hamilton May 2018
glass apologies
on my glistening skin
i am weakly passing torches
to devil-red hands
arctic eyes burdened
by your watching face
in the crack of the door
body double eating air

tell me about the ending
and how it manifests
on my front step
like a gutted turtle dove
leave me lovely thoughts
that will whither and dim
when my fear of dying
evaporates
with the mirror’s fog
jane taylor May 2016
in the heart
of the night
a slice of moonlight
cascading
beckoned

i rouse
its mesmerizing lure
gently stirs
a hazy
remembrance

entranced
from shadows i emerge
hearkening its echo
you’re dreaming
awaken

its shimmering light
engulfed me
prying open my stubborn eyes
in the onyx
darkness

its silver glow
enticed me outside
i stood silent
whilst glistening dewdrops
danced on my toes

a sterling lunar crescent
enlightening midnight
softly
serenades
me

wake up
life’s a trance
you’re
hypnotized
mesmerized

in an ocean of emptiness
i heard
a celestial orb
calling
and ne’er slept again

©2016janetaylor
B L Jun 2013
“You know, son… There’s a reason...
God had a reason to give you broad shoulders --
It’s so you could carry this load… It’s so you could hold up all these boulders.”

“But these boulders aren’t my own, so why did He leave me them to hold?”
I can hardly hold them now… surely I’ll collapse when I grow old.”


“You can’t think in terms of time, it is not a restriction by which He is bound…
Instead you must think it as your cross, think of the thorns upon his crown.
He will not notice the time; that’s a human concept we’ve created…
Instead he’ll judge you by the size of the burdens with which you’re weighted.”

“Well, that’s a relief, but how can you be so sure?
He’s never turned the night to day; I’ve never seen a disease he’s cured.
Excuse me if I’m wrong, but I struggle to have faith
When the world that he created has become this wretched place.”


“I can’t convince you that he’s real, I can’t show you how to feel.
But if I showed you cold and silence, would you say that they were real?
Yet these aren’t real things, simply the absence of others…
So you must look to the voids, when you wish to discover.”

“I hope that you’re right. I hope he’s up there listening…
I hope there’s golden gates I can admire, I hope that they’re still glistening.
I hope God can take my hand, and tell me ‘Son, you’ve done well.’

I hope to God there’s a heaven – ‘cause I’ve been living in hell.
Next page