Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ryn Oct 2014
3
I hug the first,
Enamoured by her beauty.
Such kind eyes...
Peering carelessly back at me.

She reaches out,
To meet my embrace.
"You'll always be the first,
Who had my heart set in place."


I say to the second,
"You are my life.
One day you'd build,
The right castle for a wife."


"Remember me always,
For you this path I have paved.
I'd shower upon you,
All the love that I have saved."


Then finally to the third,
The last of all gifts.
Most adorable of sprites,
Source of my infinite lifts.

*"For you I haven't done much,
Only all that I could afford.
But insert me in your forever...
As the only you ever would've adored..."
For my troopers...
Enigma Sep 2018
Success never came without critique & hate
No matter friend or foe, they'll close down their gate.
The smile will turn into a smirk
The eyes will change into a lurk
Some may even walk on to the other side
But that's when you'll know you're doing it right
Your light maybe blinding to some
and some may even turn to ash
but don't give heed to the glare,
whispers and oh all the gnash.

Dance on your victory, you've made them so proud,
the ones who love you; so bring down the shroud;
of darkness and dullness & shout out to call,
your strength and beauty that some may appal.
Cause' you are a diamond that shines oh so bright,
but some may not see it,
so why don't you guide.
Cause' you've got it right
So stand tall with pride
Cause' you are the light
and you shine so bright.

A.S.
Feel free to express your thoughts.
Sebastian Macias Jun 2016
You wake up with pain in the morning
Wash your face, your eyes begin to focus
It's about 6:45 a.m. and you work at 7:30 a.m.
Jump in the hot shower and let it soothe your back
Then the routine; One pill for the stomach,
Another for the back pain.
Which ***** up your stomach more
Then I welcome the headache
Those come with the dehydration,
Of the war in my body by the "medicine"
And the stress.. the stress is the extra kick
To the back around noon and you drink water
Like a fish and the bathroom at work is so clean
But your mind is still jacked
Because this "medicine" don't work, but
Somebody still got paid, thieves

Day in and day out you tunnel through the caves
And the rocks fall on you
And the people stare at you and wait
And the ex-wife sits with her knife
And the afternoon traffic laughs too

But you see yourself,
Submerged in a body of clear blue water
And your legs have become stronger
And you jump, kick up with force
Leaping out of the water and you swing!
Beating anything that's in your path
And it's usually life's big ******* face
K.O. punch to the jaw
The dust settles.

You check your legs and arms and neck
And hands and ears and heart rate
And you picture the next
30 years to tunnel through.
Nadia Jun 28
Book Review Poetry - The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite

Feminist queer historical romance
How could I not give it a chance
Science and art plus love as needed
This daring book sweetly succeeded
This ebook just became available at the library. Refreshing, fun read.

Anyone else have a #RhymingReview?
Quin Rosenheart Aug 2018
You're my everything
My all-seeing light
Even though it's dark
You guide me through the night

The phases of the moon
The shadows on our face
We dance in the lunar light
While both our hearts race

Holding each other close
Closer than can be
I love you tonight my darling
I hope you can love me
madyson shaye Apr 2014
if you walked a thousand miles in my shoes you still
would not have any room judge me
where'd that idea come from, anyway?
that because you see what I see and walk where
I walk you have the power and knowledge to
write a book of every mistake I've ever made
and set it right outside of the gates of heaven
so that when my time comes I know it was your
words that left me dead?
people are not god's
you grew up reading mythology, watching the half-human
Hercules build a wall on top of his shoulders and carrying
it even throughout his most human times
I grew up reading poetry, memorizing the beauty of
metaphors to the point where I decided that when I grew up
I would become one and everything I do would be one
no wonder we have such different outlooks on life.
if someone put a knife through your back, you would die
you are not immortal because people are not gods
so why allow them to do what they do?
I told myself you would never make me sick again, ever
let me have a 105 degree fever and a pain in my shoulder
before I ever get nauseous remembering what happened
what was said or what we both did, but when I went to
the doctor and begged him to cure me he just filled his
syringe up with a photographic memory and inserted it
directly into my veins whispering
people are not god's
people are not god's
if you want to became the hands on a clock learn to
add and subtract and memorize when the sun rises and sets
if you are dead set on becoming something no one can
touch without crumbling to a pile of dust
breathe deep and walk tall
move as if your spine is made of words
that were said in such a fragile time that if you distribute
your weight improperly the tightrope will break
act as if it is never a fragile time
even though it is 99% of the time, but say it's not
say it's all just fine until your mind is snickering because
it has convinced the rest of your body it's able to keep running
people are not gods, people are not gods
people are just people and that's all they'll ever be
a mere five and a half feet, unless you allow them to
put on stilts and start walking around in your head
Joseph Miller Sep 2017
In the morning
I see them
coming over the edge
enlightened spirits
guide me
During the day
I feel them
pulling me through
all the answers
when I need them most
In the night
I hear them
whispering in my ear
Rest easy, they say
And I their humble servant
gladly obey
There is a spot where
Words fall so effortlessly
Out my hands that I
Can't help but question
What happened
Here?

Am I
Writing
Or am I
Dancing
When no
Pauses
Interrupt my
Flow

And I'm left
Beside myself
Asking
Where am I?
Who am I?
And
Who are you?
Do you have a spot?
Please teach, please guide.
You are my light.
Tony Tweedy Mar 25
By cold logic you arrive,
not through panic nor insanity,
for they are something separate.

You recall those who witnessed,
through blinded eye the beginnings.
Those seemingly oblivious of your falling to this place,
and who could offer no sanctuary or escape.

In your mind the inaction testifies, of a value you no longer hold.
Not just in your place of open eyed awareness,
But also in their world of illusion,
where you no longer belong.

There are two pathways ahead.
But only one will each choose according to their need.
Emotional pain made into the physical
Or the ending of pain both felt and caused, both past and future.

At the beginning and in the intermediate,
the times when cries for help prevailed.
Not consciously shouted but through changes,
altered interaction with the world as it once was.

To those who bore witness to beginning and middle,
at this stage comes the "why?".
"I saw it"...."Why did I not see this outcome?".... "I knew",???

To those who have not been here,
There seems to be no logic,
They cannot see from where they stand the simple rationale.
So contrary and beyond sight
that only the tag of insanity gives explanation.

At the beginners guide just so the numbers who sought to read.
At the intermediate a lesser number could give an interest.
The despair of others an unwanted knowledge and the readings so reflect a reality best kept unvoiced... too disturbing to the ear.
And fewer now here... dear reader... eyes uneducated still asking why.... you few are too late to understanding and by now despair has been defeated.
There are words I would have used but the site censors them for those who are not members.
The sad truth is that only those here through three "guides" will make any sense of my writings.
Steve Page Apr 26
Countless paths
Alternative routes
Only one guide
can see you through.
The way ahead is rarely clear.  Options are great, but I need guidance.
CK Baker Mar 2017
its amazing what we’re capable of when pressed;
lunar launches
and shaman healing
hail marys
and fortunes of gold
heavy hauls
and broken borders
war, compassion
and treaties of peace

all those wild and lofty regressions from the mean;
soul re-settings
(from deadly deeds)
scores and scriptures
liberty and peace
walls, asylums
(in the jaws of defeat)
channeled spirits
of warmth
and love
and connection

and sometimes, it’s just a little fodder;
pyramids and viaducts
aqua-lines and chunnels
spider climbs
and deep dives
base jumps near the high wire
gardens and divine art
and even water boards
(for beauty is in the eye of the beholder!)
have a look around
and let gratitude be your guide
Nylee Oct 4
Punching the numbers
I get the feeling of being lost
In the sequence of the memories
I feel my feet touch the ground
So when I open my bag
There is emotional side of me
Flickering in the dark.

Down in the pitch black
I look for the tiny spark
In the stories of old age
I look forward to happy times
And then I pull up myself
Found that I can stand
for a while more for a start.

The dark clouds clear and move
The sun makes the way
When mountains stand in path
From a valley it shines
And I know in truth
Darkness guides to
The road of eternal light
When no other lamps make you sway
.
Mostly I write
For myself
Sometime
I write nonsense
That, even I knew

Guide me
When I'm wrong
Where I need to correct
Show me:
How alphabets, create magic
How compatible, words stay
How the good, sense is made
Let me learn
How to choose them

Let the ink spill
In the favour
For,
Every concerned thoughts
Every soulful words
That connects you to me
Guide me
Genre: Experimental
Theme: life's guide
And listen
You know what?
What you are to me?

You live inside
My world
Far beyond
With heavenly grace
In all shades and hues
And flow naturally
Tracing a way
As the verses
Birthing life

Thanks for being
Namaste
If i have not said?
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Sculpting the thought
island poet May 2018
“Moby ****,”  Herman Melville

<•>

~for the lost at sea~

after a year of saltwater absence and abstinence,
return to the island caught between two land forks
surrounded by river-heading flows
bound for the ocean great joining

the Atlantic welcomes the fresh water fools,
bringing with them hopefully, but hopeless gifts of obeisances,
peace-offerings endeavoring to keep their infinite souls

sea accepts them then drowns the
warm newcomers in the unaccustomed
deep cold salinity, which
sometimes erodes
sometimes preserving
their former freshwater cold originality

I’m called to depart my beach shoreline  unarmed,
no kayak, sunfish or glass bottomed boat needed,
walk on water and my toes, ten eyes to see the bottom,
no depth perception limitation,
reading the floor’s topography,
millions of minion’s stories infinite,
many Munch screaming

god’s foot, heavy upon my shoulders,
a daytime travel guide, hired for me,
not a friendly travel companion,  nope,
God a pusher showing off a drug called deep water salvation,
designated for the masses, can handle large parties

my in-camera brain  eyes,
record everything for playback -
the lost and unburied, bone crossword puzzles

walk shore to ship, on soles to souls,
is this my new-summer nature welcome back greeting?

puzzled at the awesomeness of vastness,
conclude this clarification for me of the occluded-deep,
is a stern reminder of my insignificant existence,
my requirement to walk humbly, spare my sin of vanity, and
forgive my trespasses upon the lives of others

perhaps then the infinite of my soul perchance restored,
older visions clarified and future poems
will write themselves
and sea to it my predecessors
be better remembered

Memorial Day 2018
So in this Month your Heart begins to press
For Good October promises your Due
Thinking of Delight and Travel Costs less,
And finally meeting her through and through
Her arm must have healed, given Time's duty
No more must such Fortress wall you apart
Her, Blessed Pronoun who cheers you truly
On her own Springboard she performs her Part
As you guide Witness to her own Unique Craft,
That Guideline which does greatly Inspire
Now look! Her Swan whips the Air; And the Draft
Begs humbly deep its legs to retire.
Your Hug was her Reward; Then the Flannel
Covers your Cheers on the Upper Panel.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
city of flips Jul 2018
wants to be my friend, for I am poet-woman nineteen.

she is sweet but sad. super sad.

a good poet who wants to guide me.

but there/theirs is the odor, not faint, of wants wanting,
the pus of corruption behind the curtains,
the Wizard-ess of Oz's
special blackout curtains.

seen how easy, how her illusions,
my medium rare rejections,
morph into her delusions,

and her delusions devolve into
her conspiracy theories.

"SHE will be my mentor, poetess lover, teacher for no charge!"

my parents thinks it's great, she wants (to be) skin in my game.

my parents will find this poem accidentally, exactly,

how I do not want
to be skinned alive.

for I am poet-woman nineteen and still! now, long past
the point of being fooled, the point of no return.

and see no point,
have no intention,
of returning to either valley

no more con the my mind into letting my body
be-fused.^
  

that ain't me babe.
Next page