Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kewayne Wadley Jul 2018
A woman sits on the train.
Watching, waiting for something to happen.
She rushes pass building after building lost in the sights.
The world flying by her window seat.
One track at a time.
Fixed between one common place to another.
She turns her head.
A man reads the paper.
Headline covered by the fold.
Presidential debate.
His hold is tight, side eyeing the woman beside him.
Her round face.
Randomly clicking on her phone.
Bored.
Social media sites.
Candy crush.
He views in full.
The air is cool.
Cool enough to put you to sleep.
She wonders if anyone notices her.
She yawns,
lips printed on the reflection of buildings.
She quickly looks away.
The train passes.
Overhead she sees a plane.
Never has she flown.
To see the sights above.
Would the experience be the same.
Travel size smile.
Hand bag at rest.
The train rushing faster and faster.
The buildings now out of sight.
The plane races on.
She turns her head.
Now she's asleep
King Panda Feb 2016
the clay patio was baking
just hot
enough for the dough to rise and crisp
and for you to spread your blanket
in the sun
perfect for a picnic with the kids
and observing the man on that really tall bicycle

it’s times like these when you think
why doesn’t everyone just shut off
and bake in the sun
with a glass of peach tea and a pair
of well behaved kids
who share life like it was their job to love
each other
their mother
dad
and especially
the old dog

even the young lovers get jealous
as their gaze from the park to
your front patio
witnessing that there is something more to love
than just body heat
chocolate-dipped strawberries
and jazz clubs
that children grow like spinach flowers
in mellow
medallion
heat
until the training wheels come off
and they feel earth’s balance for the first time

and the peaches!
they shackle the branches
like juicy bombs
and you decide that
mothers are like fruit
unbruised
unwashed
and perfect
something that God
herself
keeps in her finest
crystal bowl and replants
in the summer

mother
sister
friend
shoot me some of that peach tea
you’re drinking
that sun you are soaking
that air you are breathing
the world needs more of you
and you deserve the last taste
of its summer light
Softly Spoken Dec 2018
There’s always a bustle here
In my ritual place of ribs and beer
The sharp scent of ****** and coriander
The acrid burr in my nose of seared flesh
Fusion food served around me
But I go for Hirata.. again.
Can’t argue with taste, and it tastes
Korean bbq and Buddha beer
A brief nod to the moments of clarity
As said by drunks
The beer bottle cool in my hand as I reflect
Beads of condensation forming on Buddhas belly
And I’m here hoping for Constant
It’s now my third attempt
In as many months to catch a glimpse
And tonight apparently the stars align
Jupiter and Mercury on the rise
As I walk in
There is a way about him
So much bluff and bravado...
reminds me of someone I once loved
There is a mischief in his smile
Something warm in his eyes
Even beyond his jokes of his ego
Too big for the Room, apparently
I don’t discourage..
He’s honest in a way that piques
So here I am
Third time lucky finding Constant
To my delight he recognises me instantly
“Lucky Buddha for the lady?”
His eyes dance..
I interpret, maybe to much
But believe he’s pleased to see me
So we joke..
We laugh
I watch him get an earful
For not concentrating on the flow
The manager in tow..
and he side-eyes me and winks
Inwardly I hi-five myself for
Timing this so perfectly
So here I am
Trying not to watch Constant flow
Trying not to blush as he looks my way
“I’m too old for this ****” I think
Then feel like a kid
When he throws a grin my way
I regular Wagamama in transit.. for the food mainly... ok maybe not all for the food
Erin Suurkoivu Sep 2016
Not quite a hurricane
but a wind that still blows,
holding love aloft.
I prefer to be behind the scenes
like god,
observing the audience
through a ***** in the curtain.

I am prophecy self-fulfilled,
but I’ve been before mistaken.

Surprised to learn
that they embrace what they ****.
Departure the welcoming light to walk slowly into the darkness

Wedged between night and day, for a split second

The splendor the Sunset Walker can see is captivating

Observing the color of the cloud's and sun's transformation

Seeing reflection transition flashed across the sky

The eyes take pictures of this wonder and describe it

So others can feel that they are walking along beside you.


Copyright 2013
All Rights Reserved
raingirlpoet Dec 2014
i saw my brother today
for the first time in years
scrolling through pages of
what i imagine the inside of his mind is like
i caught a glimpse
a flicker
of the life he's been living
social media has let me in to parts of his being
i never imagined i'd see
i stand like an onlooker
a stranger
observing a boy
trapped inside of walls of his own making
i know those walls
i know how miserable it is to die a slow suicide
if he turned around
he'd see me behind bars
we're both ravage animals
but he won't
he's got a life i know nothing of
he's got feelings i know something of
he has no idea i want to know him
i wanted to stay there forever
watching the updates trickle in
watching his life
not mine
i wonder if he ever does the same
i bookmarked the page and hit exit
he'll be here in the screen
i promised him
i'd visit soon
A decoy friend, baited, lured it's unwitting
The latest victim to prepare for an ambush
Lurking in the shadows, but hiding in plain sight,
Observing from below to organize for apprehension
Anxious to terrorize its prey, with their boon companions
Using my notions of long ago, of unspoken content
Reveals it's  deceiving affirmation, pursuing instruments
Distributed to others to use against me
A sham of being pristine, weeping tears that aren't real
A deceiver of her spoken words,
That her followers always believe
A professional charlatan, a trickster  
Pursuing its prey, while pretending to be a victim
Always having to have total dominance
Living well on administration prosperity
With her trio of  illegitimate offspring of dissimilar fathers


Copyright 2019
all rights reserved.
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway,
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
In willfully prevenient interpolation,
Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray,
Forecasts in vague extrapolation
Contrasts the millennial contagion
Already underway,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion,
Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion,
The personable recluse fighting an illusion
Breaking down the nuances of every institution.
Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity
Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility,
An opinionated adversary,
to the realist without evidence,
Theorizing in futility,
Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community.
Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified,
Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified,
Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide,
Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide,
Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified.
Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity,
As consequential regiments are expounded universally,
To unstratify the residents indiscriminately
And identify quantum elements spiritualistically,
Changing collective behavior individually,
Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
This is an edited, expanded, expounded, confounded, reverberation of Linguistic Illusions to Probable Solutions written months back.
sharpcastuser Jan 2011
The mirror on the wall
Its cold, glassy stare
Like an intentional glare
At Life captured as a reflection
Observing an image frozen
In our mind , the boundaries
Confined within us defining
Formation of a self-image
Instant Imprints of our conscience
That's searching through the depths
Of one's soul for the affirmations
Needed to sustain an ego
Standing tall over the mantle
Outlining the walls of a room
With hues from a color spectrum
Reflecting light onto the face
Of an onlooker whose eyes gaze
Into this mirror that's on the wall

© 2004 - Pres  Hello-Poetry.com - All Rights Reserved
copyright 2011 sharpcastuser.com
Ron Gavalik May 2018
Sometimes I think I love best
from afar,
observing impossible conquests
from behind crowds
of maniacs on sidewalks.
Sometimes I love through written notes
to people in far away places.
When up close, reality stops
the imaginings.
I dream of far better love
than I live.

-Ron Gavalik
Ashleigh Black Jul 2014
Oh, how amazed I am by the beauty that
radiates from the center of your being
as if your only purpose in life was to live
to bring joy to those who witness your love that you give
Oh, how I long to be your companion
lazying the day away, observing the world at our stem.

I wish you would use it's wing-like petals
to fly, but instead you stay in the ground
soaking up sun and watching as
a young couple has
fun on a hand-me-down quilt
that the girl's grandmother once gave her.

Oh, what a life of happiness you must lead.
Hadiy Syakir Jan 20
intelligence is
the new authority
resistance is
the new sanctity
velvety memoir
of the patchy ride
in a rainbow rollercoaster,
left everything prime
on the outside
sink into the wagon with
wild, visceral inside
embark on an odyssey
observing the past,
questioning the future.

future is a distant memory
of all the anachronistic glory.
Spenser Bennett Oct 2016
To love is to wait
for silence, observing earth
This vigil for death

Is all consuming
Life to love to death and back
To the space between

The lines are defined
The church bells ring as the bombs
Collide with my eyes

Holocaust now and
Again, it's a good thing, light
Destroys darkness falls

Crush me in silence
I left my shadow behind
A wingless angel

Permanently still
My impromptu modern art
May you understand

Death is no true end
Overcoming existence
To see love turn truth
Tea Dec 2013
I start to answer her question,
She seems taken aback.
I rattle off my list.
“Witty comments,
An easy found laughter…
I like competitiveness
That’s wraps itself around playfulness,
Like I want to wrap myself around
His big found epiphanies.
Symphony of intellectual connecting’s and
Good intuition.
A quick reaction time, helping you step away
Before **** has had time to hit the fan.
Eagerness to help other human beings…
Taking advantages of opportunities instead of people
Charisma that is unselfish in its tendency to be noticed.
Awareness of one’s self.
a knack for insightful observing.”
These a list of things I find attractive
But yes he also has a nice jaw line
It traces lovely underneath a finger tip
But it’s a faraway line on a map
That has eloquently plotted out his most beautiful parts
It’s faded and dim in comparison to the additional obvious existing’s
It is so far from those parts of him I find to be most beautiful
That I hardly understand how out of all of it
That was the only thing you really responded to.
The only part of the map you related enough to
To point to and say I have been there.
Daniel Ruiz Aug 2018
Emotions fuels my writing,
Like gasoline fuels cars,
Like depression fueled the
Success of those good songs
That i listen to while
My mind is driving
Probably on his way towards
Thinking of you.

Do you know who I am?
Please tell me who I am,
Then I wouldn’t be so
Lost trying to find myself,
I try to find myself in other people,

I’m just a poet,
A college student
A “writer”
A person that lost an opportunity
To be with someone who cared about him,
A person that, without consent, loses friends,
Thinking it’ll be better for them,
That they don’t get to know more about me.

And as you can see,
Emotions are the raw energy that
Keeps me writing,
The same as writing keeps me sane
From these emotions that burn into my skull
As the same temperature the stars emit,
Those little flying rocks in the sky,
That without hesitation fall
From the place they find more dearest,

It’s a good thing the sun doesn’t let us
Escape his grip,
And keeps us around
So he can show the moon,
How much he cares about her.

That’s why I adore space so much,
The stars,
The fact that the light I see and adore,
Is probably a star that’s about to die,
Wishing me goodbye,

So farewell little star,
It’s a good thing,
That you can’t see my last shining moments
On this earth,

So Goodbye,
Goodbye to the constellations of dying stars,
That fueled with emotions
Shine the dark away.

Goodbye old friend,
I’ll keep observing you for a while,
Hope you still have more stories to tell.

Because I’ll keep listening,
Until my light fades away too.
Jeannery Oct 2018
The sun's going down
Here I am sitting alone
Observing people from a far
I envy, they look so happy.

The sound of the leaves
Calms my inner peace
Is it calmness or emptiness?
Help, I'm so confused.

The sky is blue
Is there any other hue?
The sky is so plain
And right now I'm in vain.



--jeannery a.





102418
there will always be a moment in your life where you'll choose to be alone and feel all the sadness in your soul and oh by the way you also know that no one can help you and it *****.
Sebastian Macias May 2016
There is a wild, mad bull
scars scattered over his body
calm and fearlessness in his eyes

a young painter captivated,
is sitting on broken stairs painting it
an older woman gently watches
the young boy, as he paints
this bull in the distance, with desire
the desire to live once again

and from his house, the man
who raises the herd from which
the bull was raised in
looks over at the woman,
observing with lust
perversely drawing out mentally
her laying naked on his bed sheets
spreading herself for him, only him

there is a haunting violin stroking away
the spinning ceiling fan is about to break
anxiety is eating away at my finger tips
and we all just want to know,

How's it going to end?
Seanathon Oct 2018
I wish our waves would crash
Our stars would pass
At a lesser distance, magnets meet

Our shoes to shed beneath our feet
And boots to knock together in the rain

I would wish the sun and moon to cry
And to always be the same
And that time would pass more slowly now
When observing your most youthful frame

Would you hear it as a rustling
As a crashing of waves within echo ears?
Would the sand between our fingers stay
And forever be the same?

You’re my type of breeze
The height of trees
Whispering in the arms of wind
HGS

Mhmmm

Oh snap - HondaGirlSeries
Umi Feb 2018
By the evening when it covers the earth softly in a veil of darkness.
As all the colours change, from a bright inviting blue of the heavens,
now softening, losing their glow, as shadows fall beneath the Earth
When the last ray of sunlight has arrived the stars rise in order to claim the sky for themselves, as so does the moon, overshining them.
Vision may shrink due the lack of light, causing many to get anxious if they would have to travel throughout the arrival of the night.
The time to rest has been brought near, but some do choose to stay awake, gazing, observing, watching as the stars above them leave their gentle, slow and most importantly fascinating trail.
Thus for them, the lovers of this declining day, made it their mission to stay awake and admire all the beauty the night serves them.
A time of charming for those who share love, for those who have engaged themselves in the sweet embrace of slumber.
As time goes on I lose myself in this wandering fragnance, until the light of the sun, manages to greet me for a fresh day.


~ Umi
Next page