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Morgan Mercury Apr 2014
We were once kids.
We were once wild.
We were once soldiers.
In the dead of winter, you greeted death.
You fell from my grip and into the darkness,
and now a hundred years have rotted away and I have never felt so alone.
I ran from the winter because war was to attached to it.
I close my eyes and I see you there on the front line.
Young and drained, you were just a body rotting away.
Full of life so you hung on with everything you had.
bang
bang
It was such an awful sound.
Only if I had taken your place.
If only you would have run the other way.
Just how unfair is our luck.

Someday I'll teach myself to learn and live alone.
I'll teach myself that death was not the enemy.
But the winter storm rages on and I'm still having trouble breathing.
Don't be alarmed.
I march on.
Like the soldier I once was.
Don't be alarmed.
I've seen many winter storms
and I have miraculously survived them all.

Can't you see that I don't want to move on?
Don't bring tomorrow because I can't take another.
My eyes are too fogged to see the light.
My minds too cluttered to think right.
I've tasted my own tears
and faced all my fears.
So here I am.
Laying on the floor.
So here we are.
Together once more.
Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes
Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Lea Loveit Apr 2016
By know you are old enough to try to understand
What love is between a women and a man
You see, at this point you don't have names
And Gregory can't settle the same.
Gregory is your farther as you know
You're not even a thought yet we can't wait for you to grow.
You won't be born in the next five years
But as soon as you're planted I'll cry happy tears.
Daddy and I are preparing
For when we  have to start caring.
Everything we do right now is for your advantage
So there won't be much struggle in your life to manage
Dad will soon be in the real world
And I will be his supportive girl.
I will still live with grandmama
And he'll still live his mama.
As of now that is okay
Because as long as we pray
God will be there for you, dad and I
Assuring us everything will be fine.
Ten minutes before I was stressing
But then remembered that God is always blessing.
That rule is for you as well as the rest of planet Earth.
I can't want to give birth
But I know I'm not ready
I gotta take it slow and steady.
Daddy will get the best job and make good money
So your days will always be sunny.
I will continue to learn and save some funds
And the best will never go undone.
I'm two years behind and dad is two years ahead
So that we can afford the best place for you to lay your head.
Dad is so sure and confident that I am the one
no matter how much I say I'm done.
I couldn't imagine myself with anyone else by my side
No one can handle the bumpy ride.
Dad would go through it all for you kids
He even went to Madrid.
But I hope and pray we never disappoint
Because we became joint
Without the love and motivation
How could we have reach salvation?
I started on February 16th
Everyday into every week
Building together
For an amazing forever.
So when you're mad at us just remember
That things will always get better,
We did nothing but try,
For you everything we buy,
A family we will always be,
Although sometimes we might not agree,
We work the hardest we can,
And made the strongest plan,
For you, our creation out of love,
Which is made of
Some of dad, some of mom
And a whole lot of love bombs.
So as I study tonight
And dad fight the world full of spite,
We remember everything we do
Is motivated towards you.
When pa is playing in the back yard,
Or i'm rocking you back to bed as a guard,
We value every moment
For you kids to never be broken

Love Mommy

P.s. I forever love you kiddies
Just thinking of the future
MeanAileen Dec 2017
Oh how I hate
this time of year,
with the stupid songs
and holiday cheer...
Annoying bell ringers
outside the store,
and the tacky wreaths
hanging on the door.
Cardboard calendars
filled with waxy treats,
ice and snow making
death traps of streets.
Frazzled parents
spending more then they should
on ungrateful kids
who are far from good.
Fake smiles & wishes
in the "spirit" of it all,
the bloated prices-
the crowds at the mall.
The hour long line
to see Santa the phony
who falsely promises
an x-box or a pony.
Having to gather
with family who annoy,
gifting another cheap
Chinese-made toy.
Fire hazards
strung with tinsel and lights,
tensions leading
to fun Christmas fights!
Secret Santas-
holiday parties for work-
**** sweaters
making you look like a ****.
The stress of having
an enormous shopping list
and a tiny budget
just makes me ******!
No, nothing seems jolly
or merry or bright...
Oh how I can't wait
till post-Christmas night!
My ode to the holidays!!
And no, I'm not a TOTAL Grinch, I just play one in November and December!!
Katherine Smith Aug 2018
A moment. A blunt, passed.

Watching him get higher and higher in the wind-bitten evening.
This town, this place, isn't home anymore, but for a moment we can pretend to belong to the dusty air, the crumbled ocean of Joshua trees.

Someone blows smoke in my direction and suddenly it's summer again.
Does he remember those days?
Back when his hair was longer than mine, when we spent the nights chasing back insomnia and the fear of failure.

We were two tired immortals, shoulders made heavy with the weight of another god's world.
a completely romanticised telling of my first college beau.
Morgan Mercury Aug 2013
Pick yourself up and dust off your shoulders
because you're a soldier and have no time to rest.
You can't escape this life because you sold your soul for this
and in the next year, you'll be buried right under your feet, six feet deep.

Will it be your hell?
******* alone surrounded by nothing but chains
for years and years.
Calling out to empty shadows and swallowing dust over these times.

Will it be your heaven?
In the summer of ninety-six
with the night lite up with fireworks on the fourth.
Chasing the sparks because you're a child again.

Pick your feet up and march to the drums of your family.
You promised to always protect your family
and this is all you know to do.
Giving up your life for your brother's
is what you were trained to do.

Your heart is weak but warm.
But you will not be needing it for long.
You find peace in the night
but always keep a candle lit,
to keep an eye on your brother
because he is all there is.

Things can't be rewritten or reversed.
You've just got a confused mind
and acted out of grief.
But you're always able to rewind to the night
a bullet took your brother.

These lifeforms made a deal for you, that they knew you'd take.
They could care less about your feelings.
They could **** without warning,
but you trust them with your brother's life on this one.

So now you stand a man with a deal to die
but it's all worth it because now your brother can live.
Selling your life so he can have his back was the best birthday present
you could give.
Supernatural
Dean Winchester
Savanna Jun 2013
I think there are some things
Of which a child should not be warned

Why place in them a mortal fear
That they need not yet learn

I remember the summer vacations
Spent at the ocean's side

Where I danced, splashed and dove
Never once thinking that it was cold

Now I return to the beach
And long for the good old fun

But I am held back
By the fear of believing it's too cold

I yearn to start over
To learn again in time

To live without fear
Of the small things that ruin me now

I want to run barefoot through the grass
But I can't let myself do so

I know too much
Of the dangers that may hide

These fears I have are often of situations
That probably won't happen

Yet I can't bring myself past
What I've been told that I now know

So don't ruin the kids
Let their wonder take control

Keep the world magical
Keep the fears at bay
ogdiddynash Jul 2018
helping the kids with homework


no one told you,
was part of the job description
paycheck earner a-ok,
gruff but tender lover,
knowing her special places,
building a tree swing,
a tree house safe and satisfactory,
one the neighbors envy

taking them to the hospital for
broken arms and chemotherapy,
part two of the non-routine but a very possible foreseeable,
going to school to give that principal a look
that will make him think twice before suspending
one of his for defending himself

you remember your daddy doing the same for you,
forgetting to repeat the tar and hiding that came later

the tucking in, the pretense ouch
when your end of day
scratchy beard ruffling the skin of babies,
carrying tissues in a toolbox,
never heard of, nevertheless done,
tho not a memory defining the future inclusive,
definitely a learning ability, a likeability

doing homework, nuh uh,
no way jose, don’t dare let them
know how you never got a gold star,
always sat in the back row, outta sight,
all day dreaming, chemistry rhymes with mystery,
and poetry is rhymes needing a big vocabulary
which means lots of words for a man who don’t talk much

ain’t exactly his strong suit

sure, heard of Shakespeare but never met him,
know where the on/off computer button hides,
the rest is up to them;
got no email address, but taught them sir and ma’am,
how to address humans with respect,

i’ll promise them anything
but not doing any homework,
unless it the kind that that makes

a home work
#homework
Leigh May 2015
The tide collects it all by morning;
The drama and the ***** napalmed across the path.
The scenes at second warning for most had been swept away
Before they wiped the sand from their shoes.

Empty cans of Dutch and Tuborg slouched on the dunes
Are tight-lipped about the Velvet Strand's secret ecosystem;
An underground microcosm;
A peripheral cluster of seething emotions drowned.

Memories of those years - although some expired,
The vestiges take pride of place - hold a cosmic clump of smells,
Tastes, firsts, goosebumps, hangovers, and ends.
I never before understood what I was holding on to.

Winters down in the shelters nearly killed us but we
Huddled through the cold, lit cheap firelogs and
Found our oblivion. It didn't take much for me to develop  
A stagger - tolerance for a lot of things was learned later.

I narrowly recall my first taste of poor judgement and
Hazy-headed stargazing. Six cans of Stonehouse
Dry cider - most of which ended up on the hillside -
Was a ridiculous endeavour that will always be sublime.

At the heart of it, I did it to impress a girl;
The one every boy has or has had that sticks;
Who holds your firsts and your hands and makes
Things simple if only for her complexity;

The one that never fails to bring upon digression when
Pens are involved. Revisiting reminiscence on a jarring note,
I think of my Junior Cert exams and a cross-dressed man
Exposing himself to two uniformed boys behind the public toilets.

This one doesn't stir the joy of the others.
This one I wish would dissolve;
An ****, awkward blotch on a childhood.

Luckily fondness trumps disgust when recalling that place
Because of sunrises and sunsets absorbed from the roof.
The Summers spent jumping the gap and drowning in the
Heat of the sun were everything.

The fugitive sand between our toes and under finger nails
Became an accepted nuisance, a part of the territory;
A lingering grain or two to drag you back.
I miss waking up with the smell of last night's faded fire.
.


Some weird and wonderful memories of my teenage years.

100 points if you catch the Derek Mahon reference.


.
Rustle McBride May 2016
I am alive inside this page.
You've but to read to set me free.
I beg, I plead to you who read;
read on to help me. Set me free!

I've been inside here for so long,
just waiting for someone to glance,
upon this page and then to read.
To unwittingly give me a chance.

I think you'll help me. Will you not?
You've read to far now just to stop.
Your instinct fools you. Your interest pulls you.
You find this page is hard to drop.

My freedom comes with every word,
with every verse that you will read.
I know you're empty. I will fill you.
I will become you when I'm freed.

Now its too late, for I am in you.
No longer shall you live as free.
I give you my prison of the page.
Your body and soul belong to me.
Poems for my kids
Paul Hansford May 2016
These were written by 8-year-old kids in a class I used to teach. They are simply syllable-counted  - 1 2 3 4 5 4 3 2 1 - and don't have the extra requirements of so-called "diamante" poems.  You will notice that the line breaks are all in natural places, and don't split phrases.

- - THE RACE - -
          Here
        we are
      on the line
    ready to run.
Starter lifts his gun
    high in the air -
    On your marks…
        Get set…
         Bang!

RUNNING A BATH
           Put
        the plug
      in the hole;
    turn on the tap.
Cold water in first,
   hot water next.
      It's ready.
     Now jump
            in.
while the debate goes on and on,
as to which country has the longest, continuous
democratic parliament, have it on on good authority
that the subject above,
is it better to love your kids too much than not enough?
was the first among all temporal discussions ever held,
despite periodic tabling, the debate remains unresolved,
the question unsettled even after 1000 years+ of argumentation

when over time, Universal Adult Suffrage finally came to be,
the debate became renewable, enflamed, divisive most contentiously,
various coming down on each side of a point of view topically

since mother, father and child, i.e.
pretty much everyone, definitionally,
claimed total expertise,
and sparing the rod was deemed by most to be illegally,
no plebiscite, amendment or ballot initiative was resolved resolutely,
the beat goes on continuously as new children reach voting age, sagaciously repeating their view, personally

my view?

I’ve tried both and failed equally
so I’ve little to contribute,
so let it be stated in manner unequivocally,
the sweet sensibility says too well,
but helicopters crash and monied snowplows
run over other both their own and others better deserving,
leaving all of them buried in snow piles street side,
while those who blame their faults on insufficient love,
are later most demanding more attention than any,
having becoming painfully hardy, by being treated hard about,
******* themselves and worse to others

everyone knows the answer to this question for themselves
but I’ll leave you with this,
permitting a child to fail is a winning strategy,
as long as there is no legal limit
regarding the amount or frequency
on lifetime hugging
2:13am
3/26/19
fo SY
L B Jul 2018
An early evening gust
broke the back of the day's blaze
Still 90 degrees at eight
in orange haze
Sweat runs down my neck
Through the gorge between my *******
The wind lifts my linen shirt
runs its hands along my sides
reviving memory
of Forest Park
of a blanket in the grass

Where the pines trace
so many faces
Crackling popping kids
stolen matches, running
screaming victorious!
Blowing tin cans up with fire crackers
Bicycles, sparklers, fireworks at dusk
That whole afternoon
I spent hammering caps

Noise really makes us kids
really
especially
annoying

Mom wants us out!
Gone! All of us!
No needs. No excuses!
No cookies! No slices of bologna!
“No more Kool Aid!
Out now!
Out!”

That evening I tried
to dismiss the itchy sweat
of stupid-sister-Suzy-matching-sun-suits
at Gino's family picnic
When some kid
(I don't know?)
between the rigatoni and the sweet corn
Some kid
tosses a sparkler
into box of fireworks
I don't know?
whether to cry or laugh
I was pretty scared
Rockets going off across the lawn
and onto porch
Craze of colors through the trees
Some at eye-level horror!
But the sight of Aunt Nedda
diving under picnic table
Stockings, garter belt upended
Capsized beyond her caring
of uplifted dress

Some images just stay with you, ya know?

July 4th always lands for me
on a firework's ***
"Caps"  are little red rolls of gunpowder dots, originally made to give a snap to toy guns of the 1950s.  We figured out that by layering them and using a hammer, you could get a bigger crack.
Allesha Eman Mar 2018
Somewhere in the sea of turquoise
I was lost in a boat made of my dreams
If you ever wanted to find me
Then I’d be hiding in the hollow shadows of the free

I’d be in the smile of a survivor
The tears of a lover
The hopes of a dreamer
Maybe even in the lies of a believer

Somewhere by the rattling earth
Or floating in the seven seas
But I’ll be where love goes
When you’ll be looking for me

So if you ever try to find me
I’ll be in the places you’ll never see
The places where your eyes will miss
But your heart will be set free

I’ll be in your laugh
Or maybe in your dreams
Where ever I am just know
Somewhere in the hollow shadows
I’m waiting to be seen
Kai May 20
In this day in age
we blame the generation
that comes after
for the problems
we created for them

We start devastating wars
and pollute the world
and then leave it
for the kids we have
to solve our problems

What gives us the right
to leave problems and blame
on those that come after?
Inspired by the song by Aviva.
Paul Hansford Aug 2017
The ground is covered with snow.
   There is ice on all the plants
      like stone flowers.
                                                (by Darren)

The frost is cold.
   Spiky blades of grass
       crackle under your feet.
                                                  (by Peter)

The sky is black,
   the moon shines on the ice,
      the ice is silver.
                                                    (by Sarah)
OK, they didn't count the syllables, but could you say they aren't good poetry?  And since they are about the season, we'd be justified to call them "modern haiku".
Paul Hansford Aug 2017
The rain makes everything fresh,
   the plants and the grass are like gold,
      the air is sparkling with joy
                                                           (by Sharon)

The rain is coming down.
   Look outside, everything is wet.
      The leaves glitter with the rain on them.
                                                           (by Tracey)

Rain makes the roof top wet,
   the grass is all wet and soggy,
      and mum cannot do the washing.
                                                        ­    (by Lee)
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