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Rekha Nur Alisha Oct 2017
After wandering cities
chasing rainbows
stargazing galaxies
and running away
Let's head home

Okay.
Bruce Demos Sep 2019
One two one two melatonin pieces will do
In my warm cocoon
A bumbling butterfly
Stumbling through the night
In search of warm dreams
Can't find them anywhere
No matter how hard I try to fall asleep
I start feeling cold and hurting
oh how is this possible
how can one human make me feel this way
my heart does burn, but my mind is cold

I don't want to be touched by no one
my own will stop any indecent proposals
shield by the light of my sweet gods
I will not buckle and stay steadfast  

Miss me when I am gone
for it will not be too long
so whilst I still dwell in this mire
know for perfection I aspire

No man or woman will stop me
for my God is Poetry
you try to and know fury
as this angel has no mercy

Heading to winters realms
clutching on to my love
Poetry poetry poetry
I love thee to my death


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Woody Jun 2018
I still dream of my father
crossing the pastures
on his one-eyed tractor
mowing acres of sorrow
heading east of a moon
that'll be gone tomorrow
turning one last time as
if to say: so long my son
there’s going to be days
of sunshine and plenty
more of rain as he went
along his way, and my
sadness waved back like
grain in fields of long past
summers and summers
before that, so long a time
ago I can remember only
on lonely nights of heat
lightning and the low
rumble of distant thunder.
A nice surprise on this Monday evening.  Thank you all very much for your reading and very nice comments. Please know that I appreciate all of you and your kind words. Thank you.

* To Ravinder Kumar Soni: Opinion entitled to and noted. Thanks for taking the time to read.
Johnny walker Nov 2018
Hope my darling where
ever you are you sleep
well at night safe In those
dreams of our days we
had together as I do In
mine, ln dreams of you

I know you'd tell me to
find someone else but my
darling, there was only
you that how It will always
be, together forever
remember that what we
always told each other
Hope my Helen made It to where she was
Heading when last saw her Heaven bound
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
usus Aug 2019
I just wanted to get on the train,
or any train.
Where was it heading?
Didn’t matter really

I very nearly did it
lol

Clouds are bright
Rail tracks are beaming with light
Sky's high
Winds are mine
Yenson Sep 2018
Woof.....woof.....woof...woof....woof....wooof

Some Red setters dogs are eating Jewish people
in England
But why, do call them off, they are british people,
The are hard working, Industrious, Entrepreneurs,
Professors, Doctors, Lawyers, Bankers, Entertainers
Scientists, Writers, eminent Surgeons, Artists, these
are nice Britons....stop the dogs, stop the dogs.....

Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof woof

Some Red Setters dogs are eating and biting some
Labour MPs all over the country

But why, do call off the dogs, No! we have a list and this list,  highlighted the behaviour of a number of Left MPs, including Jess Phillips for telling Corbyn’s ally Diane Abbott to “*******”, John Woodcock for dismissing the party leader as a “******* disaster” and Tristram Hunt for describing Labour as “in the ****”
and all the other hard working Moderate MPs who dared protest at Anti-Semitic stance or supported the Jews .

Woof.....woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof

Some Red Setters dogs are devouring some minor
Royal from Africa

But why, do call off the dogs. No that ****** has a big ****, he's
Charismatic, intelligent, wholesome, has good work ethics, polite,
wise, charming, generous, witty and a ****** good lover and to top it all he's Royal. Now that's ******* GREEDY, how much can a
******* man have. NO! he's a goner. He is too perfect, he must be hounded and persecuted to death.

Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof.....woof.......woof
Grrr­.....woof.....Grrrrr....woof...wooof...Grrrr....wooof

Congratula­tions People, we have got rid of them all
we now have real democracy, we have a real society now
Get in the dogs ... And all you useless ******* people shut up!
And report to the Labor Camps 7:30a.m. tomorrow
You're Working Class and now you ****** have to work!
Chuka Umunna says Labour has become an institutionally racist organisation as evident from those MPs and members forced out of Labour under Jeremy Corbyn, and he urged the leader to “call off the dogs”.

This coup
A new nation
Loyal dedication
Its classification

‘Species procreation’
Prevents us from facing
A human cessation
selective mutation
Gestation
Creation

It may help explaining
The reasons
Behaving
But not the foundation
Or actions
We’re basing


A simplification
is “continuation”
A checkbox
left vacant
Fulfillment
We’re chasing


We sweat
Eyes are gazing
A slight
palpitation
In need of hydration
Complete excitation
Without
hesitation
Intense stimulation
Deep urges
Heart racing

Driven
By sensations


Unbounded fixation
Pelvic
Undulations
Clothing
Perforations
Time no longer wasting

This capitulation
a Sanctification
****** gyrations
Hint of *******


The bedroom
Safe haven
For what
we are craving
Once out
and displaying

It all had been taken
Before
Feeling vacant
Freed imagination
A resuscitation
Indulged depravation

A rhythm
we’re setting
The giving and getting
Destroying
the bedding

All else I’m forgetting
Entwined
with each other
Like entangled netting
Both
on the same trip
In a unified heading


Now comes
the summation
A true
Revelation
Final
culmination
Smash all expectations
Volcanic
eruption

That lasts the duration
Loud gasp
We unlock

Filled with gratification
Written: July 8, 2018

All rights reserved.
Making the most of my day
Riding back and fourth from station's
139 poems wrote
But the route never changes
Blasting pop punk anthems to get me by
Instead of dwelling in my room furthering connection with the outside
On mission with no destination
To find the people or place that feels like home
A community found when the lights go down and the band  starts to play
My 140th poem wrote on the same bus heading the opposite way
Slightly less lost
Baby, you're a bit like the blues.
being with you is
like
a two day bourbon-binge
I’m heading
eastward down
Dauphine Street
with shakes
planning to spend a cold night
on the rocks at Woldenberg Park.
I'll add to it
ymmiJ May 2019
your pearl colored heart
matches your porcelain glow
now sun kissed, shaded pink
golden hued nose, matching cheeks
carolina summer fun
Pagan Paul Jan 2019
.
Midnight sees a chain
of lights,
heading into the forest
so dark.

Follow the Will-O the Wisp
at night,
walk with the lone wolf
that barks.

Take that step into the unknown, the path that leads to me,
and I'll be waiting there somewhere, deep within the trees.

So walk that long path
in peace,
follow your dream as
it winds.

Keep purpose in plain sight
to release,
love that is not left
behind.



© Pagan Paul (13/01/19)
.
Marya123 Jan 2017
Sailing is fascinating to me.
Heading off into the unknown,
With no idea what lies ahead
With no company but one's own.
One lies at the mercy of the sea,
Controlling as much as one can
Using the rudder to do one's will
Finding paths measureless to man.

But what if

My ship's rudder had broken
The sky covered with clouds,
So I know not where I am
The silence here seems loud.
Where I head I do not know
I'm not sure what I seek
Meeting no friend and no foe,
I'm too afraid to speak.
Jesse stillwater Apr 2018
The midnight sun is heading north

These bags are packed with dreams
and the memories of who I’ve been;
To scatter forth like gathered seeds
on fallow hope,
strewn at the mercy of the winds

The genesis of spring unravels
the knotted darkness
Another winter’s aftermath
hidden back on the back shelf
The distance between back then
and now,  is widening
each  Dawn  to  Dusk

A  gust  of  sunlight
plashes ripples
across the still waters
of  depthless  peace

and,
my hands are no longer tied
behind  my  back
by winter's grasp

Seasons  oft  do  change
perennial  as  the  tides

But I don’t want to see
another ocean runaway;
I don’t want to know how
another fleeting moment
ends


Jesse Stillwater
7th  April  2018
KiraLili Oct 2015
The sound of gravel
Grinding under shoe
Heading down a path
Winding towards the ocean
Green lushness of cedar and bush
Coastal forest scents deep and musky
Wave sounds grow louder and clearer
You taste salt and hear gulls
Then emerge through the thick blackberries
Eyes take in the expanse of the Pacific
Breathing slows and at once calm
PNW in fall
There's streetlight outside
burning in the blue-black sky,
Standing on the pavement
with friends by its side,
They'll sway in the wind till morning
then flicker and die.
Only by the night
does a spark ignite,
Illuminating suburbia
in perfect half-light.

"In this silence I believe".

The streetlights are lonely
as they sway in the wind.
Their job is to **** the darkness,
Yet dawn signals their end.

Teenagers climbing streetlights
cause they like to get high,
Hanging from lamp posts
just to feel alive.
Ascend the mast,
Attain a heading,
Set sail and let adventure come running.

In the hazy orange glow of la madrugada
some things will appear clearer than others.

For where the mind may be lost
what might stand to be found?
Quote:
-Line Eleven from Silence by Mt. Eden Dubstep
Note:
-"Madrugada" is the Spanish word for "early hours of the morning" (the period of time between midnight and before sunrise).
I have been in the moon
In search of love all noon
Searched through deserts
Even through garden of Eden.
I have Searched beneath the sea
Travelled wide even to overseas
Still could not find love.
I went to Vatican
Even to Mecca
Driven through the romantic sites of Paris
Bath in the Brazilian beaches
Flown across the Atlantic
Pitched my tenth for few days on the Antarctic
Spend some more on the arctic
Still I saw no love.

All I saw was lust
Angels with broken hearts,
Rotten roses,
Withered lilies,
Death faiths and monsters on beautiful faces.
I saw bullets in church offering boxes
Just wedded on number plates of ambulances.
I saw wars in diversity
Pain and mourning crowding all cities
The devil celebrating the dead of peace.

I saw three wise men
Where went love, I asked them
They said love has been nailed on the cross
Buried with trust
They are heading to Galilee
To await his return.
I followed with dreams
I met many returning with smiles of frustration
From where I was going with pregnancy of expectations.

We arrived to the scene
Like a nightmare, I witnessed higher sins
I saw men taking pleasures with men
Some with animals, some women with women.
Gun everybody walking sticks
People feeding on people flesh
With human blood the thirsting ones quench their thirst.

Is this where love is expected to return?
The wise men retorted,
Yes, the saints have been raptured
And his seven years  reign has just began.
Then in a flash, I remembered that I have been taught
Taught about this dreadful end
I had also taught kids
Under trees at nights
Just to threaten them to live right.
What I thought was a mare threat or a fallacy
Has been awaken against my fate in reality.
Oh! We are among the leftovers
Left to reprove ourselves or be doomed forever.
emeraldine087 Jul 2017
In our fast-paced world, many things have become easier:
   communication, information, food preparation, even study.
We have the internet, smart phones, tablets, emails,
   Google, Wikipedia, fast food, and instant coffee.

But have we ever stopped to observe just how
   things being easy make them seem more trivial, too?
For the things we’re after, we no longer know
   how to sweat, sacrifice, aspire, wait, persist, endure…

Maybe it’s made us cease to dream as well
   as everything is merely ****** upon us to take.
We have lost the values that only hard work, toiling
   and fighting through insurmountable odds can make.

And even then we never seem to have enough of what we desire,
   not enough sleep, time, knowledge, money, or power;
We find no contentment in what we already possess
   as our seconds, minutes and days are spent wanting more.

Perhaps we need to re-examine where we’re heading,
   take instruction from the numerous generations past.
That it is only that which we strive for, that which we cherish
   with all our hearts and everything we have, that can last.

*(c) emeraldine087
DivineDao Aug 2016




₹₹₹₹₹
   IN THE BEGINING
    THERE WAS A FINE CHAOS
        PRIMORDI    Bow    ALl WORlDS    
<₹HEADING FOR     A  Ω  I    THE UNKNOWN₹>
UN EXPECTED      Deep    VISIONS OF WE
SEA~WEAVES EMERGING MA~
KING THE BEHOLDE
₹₹₹₹₹




An attempt at concrete poetry.
Hope You:);)it!!!
KiraLili Apr 2015
Asphalt ribbon
Two time zone treck
Prairie to mountain pass to foothills
Twilight driving

Heading into the sun
Caffeine fueled hours to go
Rest stop relief and back stretches
Late night radio

Never make it in one night
No need to speed ,still time tomorrow
Small towns still fly by
Arm knows every curve

Red eye droop warnings lets one know when to stop
A pull out is tonight's rest under the stars
Last sounds are the ticks of the engine cooling
Sleep comes and sunrise brings the day drive
B Mar 2016
Find me

Lost among eyes of otherworldly colors
Among streets signs of gibberish letters
Among myriads of towering strangers
Among exhaled smoke and borrowed lighters

Find me

Lost among boats heading for shore
Among waves, uncertain as before
Among horizons that are never closer
Among regretful glances on rear view mirrors

Find me

Lost among train tickets and maps
Among muddy sandals and undone bootstraps
Among misadventures and mishaps
Lost among these, I'll find myself perhaps
For the love of traveling and how it saved me in so many ways
Cece Sep 2018
nothing like going back
to the golden days
when getting up 20 minutes earlier
was a fun thing
to put on a bit of mascara
and lipgloss;
the blush was natural.
now 20 minutes of sleep
seems like a treasure,
worth everything
and never to be given up.
back when laughter was sunflower yellow,
music was neon blue,
and friends were a sweet purple,
their smiles like lavender
addicting and easy to find.
nothing like going back
to the golden days
when choosing the font for a paper
was an hour long experience;
the funnest part of writing anything.
now no writing matters
to anyone
unless it's 12pt font,
Times New Roman,
double spaced,
and with a heading in the top left corner.
back when school was light,
homework was a breeze,
and the only thunderstorms
were those that involved
coffee shops, window seats,
and copious amounts of hot chocolate.
nothing like going back
to the golden days
filled with warmth
and honey
and a whole lot of butterflies.
Leal Knowone Sep 2017
Tears flow down her face.
Agony from recent past, she clings to like a drowning body floating at sea.
Useless debris.
There's a taste of  duality in all things.
A sorrow reality can bring.  
Though this is a mere moment in time it seems like it is everything. How does one gauge pain if it is something we hope not to be remembering?

She lets herself became jaded, a heart slowly turning to stone. Heading down a path she lets herself believe she knows.
She lets herself believe she knows all there is to know.
If she takes a wrong turn there could be more suffering, or more joy then she would have otherwise know.
Who really knows which way to go?
Choices
Rizna M Rameez Dec 2018
Allah lights up the skies
So the rain can see where it's falling
Do you think
Allah will not light up your life
So that you can see where you're heading?
26.12.2018
Tom Spencer Sep 2018
cloud mountains
rise above the plains

a veil of gray
sweeps the horizon

wind brings
the scent of rain

cars rush past
heading for the city

breathe in deeply
just plowed soil

just mowed field
listen

distant thunder
insect rattle

grass rustling
cars roaring

we live in troubled times
blind unbound

deaf to calm
solicitation

time's relentless
propulsion and hissing

churning pressing
my family is waiting

I turn back to my car
both sated and shaken

reminded to breathe
to see to be filled

even for a moment
to be grateful

that grass and field
soil and wind

and gauzy far-off rain
will defy our clamor

and complaint
and will remain


Tom Spencer © 2018
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