Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Winter is a fraud to me
I had no right to love her
Yet when we come together she incites me
As a child she kissed my frost nipped cheeks
Made igloo tears and iced up fuzzes

Then I caught sight of her with make up on her cheeks
She warmed me through and was awe-inspiring
Unbreakable and reassuring like an old friend
We said our farewell for this day  

It seemed as though time scampered away
She distressed me we had a quick chatter then we where on our way

Chilled to my marrow she stayed in the air
Becoming senseless at great lengths  
Beginning to distort my state of mind
I'm brain sick
The sun never seems to shine
Any suggestions it seems undone to me.
Sam Hawkins Jul 2018
from where I now am at home
easy on my blue couch

a wisp of a thought had come to me
with that -- circles of you
spiraled and cut messages in the air

clockwise danced around dangling
pinpoint flowers holding

white and white again, each petal
accompanying rush of shallow river water
talking over rock

if I had had the notion to
carry you home in a pocket
would you have nipped at me on the way?

this is to say
I have carried you home today
and you are now no further from me
than my very breath

this is ever so

I buzz
while you fix dinner
Chris Slade May 2019
The Avro Vulcan, a majestic big old iron bird, sublime,
was to do a flyby for just one memorable last time.
Maybe with a jet fighter or a Spitfire on each wing, who knew?…
Unthinkable to miss it… almost a crime.
Thousands turned up every year, always a great day out -
but this year would be special, there'd be no doubt.
The last flight of such a legendary plane made it essential…
So, after the flyers’ break for lunch, the crowd filled out.

The entry fee to occupy the field was heinous. 25 quid!
That was for adults - and a fiver for each kid.
So, many more than those that paid, sat happily outside pubs.
Others found shelter in the perimeter’s trees and... kinda hid.
Now, to see a Vulcan fly anytime, anywhere, was magic…
She was a Leviathan of the Cold War,
that held players in the planet’s power games in awe.
And this would be her last time doing the rounds on the air show circuit -
Seeing this locally was hard to ignore.

Mark (a nephew) was a window cleaner by trade.
A regular, down to earth, happy go lucky guy.
…Saturday comes and the kids all voted "McDonalds"…
“A Happy Meal!” they’d cry.
He said that was fine - they’d all go after he’d nipped over
to the airshow to watch the Vulcan fly.
No idea whatsoever, of course, that just by going to Shoreham
just 5 miles away, for half an hour or so… that he might die.

He told his fiancé he’d only be an hour or so…
be back in time to take the kids for a burger and, "NO!"...
He wouldn’t stay. He was the only one in the family
who was bothered anyway…so he wouldn’t ****** up their day.
So, in haste, because apparently Chicken Nuggets & Fries
was much better for the kids than a load of old planes,
he cranked the best out of his bike along the 27 and,
once at the lights by the Sussex Pad,
he pulled over to the kerb to watch from the bushes.
Good view? Well not bad!

Andy Hill was a flyer of many years. His weekday job,
flying for BA.Taking holiday makers, business folk, transatlantic in Seven Four Sevens...
A flight deck maestro, soaring up, just under the heavens.
He’d done Shoreham loads of times… it was exciting, exhilarating... almost sport, his game!
He was off the hook,  became an ace. It gave him that 15 minutes of fame!
Free to thrill - a hero! Standing out from the crowd with every daring step. His aim!

He wasn’t just a petrol head… this bloke had aviation fuel in his blood.
Adrenalin on tick-over. Nought to 60 in 2.7 seconds with 22,000 Horsepower under the hood.
He left Epping full of fuel, just 90 miles away, so in two ticks he was with us, fully loaded and, the weather? It was good.
First up after lunch at half past one… he streaked across the crowded field.
Over and out and up, up, up… Little did the spectators know that Andy had forgotten he was flying a Hunter…
He thought it was last year’s aborted routine in a Jet Provost… The one they'd stopped part way through being, too risky.

"He’s not gonna make it… I can’t look!" There was a hush… a nanosecond’s silence and then the rush,
the whoomph that said it all… that hush! The ground shook!
And the eleven - plus others injured - went up in Andy Hill’s very own fireball!
No, of course, Mark wasn’t the only one to die that day.
Ten other ‘innocents’ left us in pretty much the same way…
Maurice, Dylan, Tony, Matthew, Matt, Graham, Mark R, Daniele, Richard & Jacob.
Mark T, our Mark, had the distinction of having two funerals, not just the one…
More remains were discovered, analysed and found to be his!
Even after he’d…already well... ‘gone’.

The injustice that eleven spectators or just passers by should die
when the survivor, the off target driver, who sped too low from the sky, should, after a suitable pause in this ghoulish game, be exonerated and not take any blame.
Well it’s all sort of things… It's ridiculous, pathetic, obtuse, a joke… who do they think we are?

But the great and the good deliberated, scratched their heads and worked hard to make everything look ’right’…
Tolerance for the bereaved to grieve, platitudes, condescending attitudes, a memorial service.
Thanks - genuinely - to the emergency services… Not just a little buck-passing… But the public often judged them. Arsing about - to cover their corporate backside.
They can’t insult me (or us)… intelligent people have tried…

Andy Hill was judged to be not guilty of 11 counts of manslaughter by gross negligence.
But he claimed he blacked out in the air, having experienced ‘cognitive impairment’ brought on by hypoxia … possibly due to the effects of G-force…. Of course!
The 11 were either hit by the plane or roasted in a fireball caused when the jet flew too low and too slow. But if it wasn’t Andy’s fault then whose was it?

Surely this can’t be the end of this travesty of justice!!

BUT, there IS a new memorial to the dead. And, trust’s a good one too…  The best that money can buy - and that anyone can do.

But there's is also a very bitter taste, still today…
that somehow... just won’t go away!
This is a bit of a saga... But I think it's worth it...On August 22nd 2015 there was a disaster at Shoreham Air Show, West Sussex... on the south coast of England and eleven people died. A loop the loop, too low and too slow. The pilot lived and recovered from his injuries and was found not guilty of eleven counts of manslaughter by gross negligence.
Elin Roberts Mar 2018
in this reality

we created something out of nothing
nipped uncertainty in the bud
i buried it softly
among the weeds and the dirt

in this reality

i didn't rip out my roots from the ground below
i watered the seeds with kindness and love
threw insecurity to the wind
and let my heart show

but, my dear
this isn't my reality

i still claw at the dirt
with love bitten nails
digging for an answer in unfertilized soil
searching for a life that was never given
even the slightest chance to grow

no life will blossom here
the flowers will wilt and be rotten from the core
life cannot grow from a loveless garden
the petals will fall before they're formed
and thorns will sprout and puncture the delusion of something more

teasing this noose, that is wrapped around my heart

in this reality

the weeds will strangle the light from the sun
rip away the facade of a blooming aftermath
deprive my flowery veins of water, write me off as done
and kid me into an illusion that

the seeds will sprout into a thousand colors
not one of them real enough to describe
the color of my aura when i see your face
feel those hands on mine
your touch out of descriptions reach

cos in this reality

and every reality after

love will never be a word that can be defined
nor described, by any set opinion.

love is a vast and bottomless pit of beautiful and scary uncertainty
made from the memories it creates
built on the foundations on which we were born
and bred by the emotion we feel
rough draft but dunno how to finish it
patty m Aug 2019
From a very young age, Jose' and Maggie had lived next door to each other.  Only a chain-link fence divided them as they played in their own backyards.  Everyday they chased up and down and barked excitedly playing games all their own.  Maggie was a Golden Lab and Jose' a Chihuahua.  The difference in size was of no consequence in the puppy days of their friendship, but soon Maggie grew and grew while Jose' remained small. But Jose' knew no fear and he thought he was the king of the subdivision, the main man, he was definitely an alpha dog strutting like Jagger and Maggie was adorable, all soft, playful canine, loving and sweet.
Soon a new phase of growing up was reached and Maggie would roll her eyes at Jose' and he would nuzzle her through the fence.  Their love for each other grew by leaps and bounds, but they were destined to spend their lives separately.  One day Jose' raised his nose to a new scent.  Excitedly he nipped and jumped barking a new signal.  Sweet Maggie was beside herself, wanting to be close to her lover.  She quivered and barked and whined, what should they do?  Maggie could take it no longer and decided to take things in hand/paw.  First they tried digging, each on their side of the fence and when they had a pretty nice sized hole Jose' slipped his body under the metal, the fence clawing his skin.  He didn't care if he was wounded, he just wanted to be with his girl.  Just as he was almost there, his owner came out and took him inside the house to doctor his cuts.  The hole was filled in and Jose' was punished, by having to stay inside for the rest of the day.  Maggie was upset, howling and crying, and Jose' was even more upset.  Maggie sent a message through the air and Jose' listened.  Finding a loose screen he shoved his way out of the window landing on top of the air conditioner and jumping into the yard.  Maggie stood back as far as she could go then took off running.  She picked up speed almost lifting off her feet and  suddenly she was airborne.  It was amazing, the way she soared graceful as a gazelle over the top of the chain-link fence.  Her landing was a little off  kilter and her legs were a little shaky but she was all in one piece.  Jose' was beside himself, kissing her and licking her and making little wheezing noises.  They were so excited but there was one little problem.  Maggie was willing but Jose' was just too short.  Crazed now, he tried leaping, she tried bending down, but all was for naught.  Were these two destined to be star-crossed lovers?  Now, Jose' was not a dog that gave up easily.  He motioned for Maggie to follow him.  Maggie followed Jose' to the backstairs.  Jose' climbed up one, two then three and found he was just the perfect size to make love to his beautiful lady.  Ohhhhhhhhhh what passion erupted, for Jose' was the hottest of lovers.  His salsa hips a sight to see, as he held tight to Maggie.  Jose' rolled his eyes and thought he was in heaven, and Maggie was sated and sighing, and it had been worth the wait, the trials and errors, and they knew it would last forever.  After much kissing and sweet woofs whispered, Maggie sailed back across the fence and no one need ever be the wiser, or so they thought.   But it turned out that Jose' was a virile male you see, and not long after that fateful day Maggie birthed six little pups, they called them chalabas the cutest puppies you'll ever see.
kevin kilby Dec 2019
O little cabauo were did you go o little cabauo I lost you a long time ago trotting away my fears you showed me to be a bigger man to rise above it all in luaghing and in solitude but are roads had to split and are friendship had to end o how you tugged on my heart strings with your shananagins  but in the brisk snow and warm Summer's down below I Remember my little cabauo and wonder were did he go you leeped and jumped to show who's boss you shook your head when your shoes were off you nipped then smiled and I had to let you off my ****** what a slugger and joy you brought to my heart and lifted me up so I can grow o o my little cabauo
Toxic yeti Nov 2018
The young lady asked the Yeti
“What is your name…do you have one?” As the kissed.
While kissing, the Yeti said that he had no name. So the young lady
Massaging his chest gave him a name
Vajramrita… after the fierce deity
For he was a fierce lover.
He kissed her on the fore head.
Vajramrita and the young woman kissed
Their tounges me and dance erotically.
She sat on her lover while kisssing and rode him and rolled her hips.
He ****** with her ****** rhythms as they coupled.
Soon enough the Yeti got on top of his delecate lover.
He entered her and gently jumping
As if trying not to hurt her
The yeti thengot between her legs
She could feel his face bewteen her.
Then she felt his probing tounge.
He gently yet passionately kissed her womanhood
Again not to hurt her.
Even monsters need love and defection.
The young woman stroked his head and he looked at her.
She took him my the scruff and pulled his head closer to her
And kissed him. As they kissed monster and human explore eachother in an embrace
The young lady went down
And kissed and nipped at his member.
After she was done with his member
The kissed and they slept in each other’s arms
Body twisted and entwined together

— The End —