Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tanya Chaudhary Aug 2014
Yesterday, he came in my dream.
I was sitting at the edge of the cliff,
watching the hills,
the setting sun, the river flowing
when he came close & screamed:
"Hey! Isn't the view spectacular?"
I was taken by surprise. I couldn't react.
I just nodded.
He always loved nature in particular.

He wanted to chit-chat yesterday.
He could see from my eyes that I still love him.
But, he made it obvious by asking me: "Do you?"

I looked at him and replied that it doesn't make much of a difference because you don't.

He smiled.
The broad grin.
The sharp smirk.

I got carried away,
Keeping my inhibitions at bay.
I confessed that I still find him everywhere.
Unlike him, this time he showed interest.
"What all comprises of your everywhere?" He inquired
He raised his eyebrow.
Smirked some more.
Two of his trademark antics I always adored.

With hesitation, I said he is omnipresent.
He is in my breath, my mind, my head.
He is in the view I was watching,
He is in the shadow of the strangers,
He is in the most innate things.
He is in my heart,
He is in my words,
He is in my dreams.

Hearing this, he looked pleased & said:
"I am honored, I want to ask you another thing. Can I go ahead?"
I said sure, at least we are talking.
He then asked me where I don't find him,
don't see him walking?

I stared in his eyes, smiled,
and replied - Kismat!

-- Good Morning. The End --
Donall Dempsey Feb 2018
TO BOLDLY GO

Hour by hour
the snow

grew heavier and heav...i...ER
grew more and more

daring
deciding to boldly go

where no snow
had ever gone before!

It had listened to an entire
box set of early Star Trek

leaking from
the house's windows.

It knew it
off by heart

admired Kirk
adored Spock.

The snow pushed the door
ten-ta-tivel-y ope:N

at first, but. . .now that
push had come to shove

( the latch had not been
latched properly)

opted to" "Wot de. . !"
go for it.

"That's one small step
for a snowflake...one big step

...for snowkind!"
it chuckled hee hee to it self.

"Yavaş. . .yavaş"
it repeated slowly slowly.

It was Turkish snow.

The snow advanced
flake by flake

just putting one flurry
in front of the other

into the( gasp )
"Oh mother!"

living room!

"So, this...
is how humans

- live?"

The bookshelves
feeling a little chilly

woke and whimpered
"Oh my pages...oh...my pages!"

as the unrelenting whiteness
crept nearer and:

- nearer.

"Where is a reader when
you really need one!"

asked a newly acquired
Saito Masaya.

"Isn't anyone gonna do
anything about this!"

screamed the Poems of Oktay
Rifat.

The Poems of Nazim
Hikmet

were...were...were
speechless!

But the humans were busy
snoring.

A string of cartoon Z's
like Christmas decorations

emanated from
the room of the bed.

Even the guilty one
( who would catch hell

in the huh huh morning )
slept the sleep of the innocent

since the Star Trek
had been watched all

the way through and
love had been drunkenly made.

The snow a little
nervous now

in case the book's readers
would come to their rescue

wet
the carpet.

"Oh my giddy flakes...no
but when ya gotta

go ya gotta gooooo!"
smirked the snow.

A mobile phone
asleep on the sofa

heard voices ringing
in its head

suddenly woke
spoke

in a disembodied voice
that went - straight to message.

"Wow...you guys...wow
you should see outside

...it's...like
crazy awesome!"

The snow( held
its breath): "Oh oh...

...an informer!"

It felt like the fallen
book by the carpet's edge

A Spy In The House
Of Love.

It didn't know what
an Anaïs Nin

could be.

It had a lot
to learn.

But the phone
slipped into sleep again

voiceless now.

In the morning they
found it.

"Holy cow...how...?"

Each of the humans
blaming the other

more especially
the guilty human .

"Your mother....
...don't bring my mother into this."

Neither of them spoke to the other
for the rest of the day.

The snow lay
curled up

in the fireplace
dead to the world

fast fast
asleep

drunk on the success
of its excess

dreaming that it had become
human.

A balloon clung
to the ceiling

didn't know how
to get down somehow.

The snow played
possum.

It took an hour
to evict it

with shovels and
curses.

Later, the snow
told the snow

that had been too
afraid to come in

all it had seen
all it had been.

"No...?" said the bottom-
of-the garden snow.

". . .no?"
Victor Esekwe Feb 2019
Jamie's been pranking me as far as I can remember.
Today's my turn!
I hid behind his door with my cleverly placed trap.
A simple banana peel would do the trick.
I had carefully placed it behind his door,
He would simply step on it and slip,
I would stand over his fallen body and laugh out loud.
I smirked at my evil master plan.
Now Jamie's footsteps approached,
It got closer... and then the door opened,
My heart raced as I awaited my moment of triumph.
Jamie stepped on the peel...
He landed ******* the floor.
But not with his back as I had imagined,
Jamie landed with his head...
He let out a loud cry,
He was in a pool of blood,
Jamie was now silent.
"Jamie"," Jamie" I cried out.
Paralysed with fear and guilt.
This wasn't the plan Jamie.
Please wake up!
Mum! Mum!! Mum!!
Help!.
Pranks are fun, but they can go overboard and cause harm
Misnomer Nov 2011
notice how i used "the",
pronounced "thawh" not "thuh"

and you told me words were just
words, like they **** you with
cooing fingertips licking your jaw and...

tap you on the shoulder to
then spin away again.

forgive my tongue, my
jocular indecisiveness
running over my teeth

math smirked at you;
your calculations were timid
so maybe that's why i could
never understand your idea
of "concise".
dabblings
Zoë Jul 2015
i hate the way you smirked at me,
and how you know everything.
i hate the way you made me laugh.
i hate it when you sing.
i hate your extra small t-shirts
and how i never said goodbye.
i hate you a lot,
so much it makes me cry.
i hate it when you don't answer,
i hate it when you're sweet to me.
i hate it when you make me blush,
even more when you can't see.
i hate it that you're far away
and that you harshly lied.
but most of all i hate the way i can't seem to hate you.
not even at all,
not even a tiny bit,
not even if i tried.
inspired by the movie obviously
LC Apr 2022
My fingers ached as I pried a box
from the sides of my mail slot.
I ripped it open with my bare hands,
and found a note written in cursive:
"Put both feet into the box."
I raised my eyebrows and smirked,
but I stepped into the box.
The base folded in on itself,
and my feet crashed into waves.
My lover floated with the seaweed
until he finally reached me.
His hands brushed my shoulders,
and I whispered, "I think we're lost."
My arms burned as I valiantly fought
to reach the uneven surface,
but his eyes sparkled with mischief
as he took my webbed hands,
pulling me toward the ocean floor.
Flashes of light hit my eyes.
and he led me toward the light.
My fingers brushed the floor,
then wrapped around a rough chain,
and my heart punched my chest.
Glittering diamonds surrounded
a heart of azure sapphires.
He led me back to the surface
as the heart overpowered me.
He unclasped it with ease,
placing it around my neck.
As my hand lightly rested in his,
the water droplets joined us
as we flew toward the sky
right back out of the box,
our hands still intertwined.
Escapril Day 12! Prompt: "I think we're lost." I hope you enjoy it!
And as smoke snaked from between your lips
Like the angry ash of inactive volcano,
You said “They’re all a bunch of crackers, no good, no fun, no nothing.”
I smirked as I tasted Parliament in your gums.
“That’s enough now, let’s party” and we certainly did. You (featuring
me) hit up every street and every open door; we heard
the Music bleeding in the road, shaking the feets of the young dead.
As their ears crinkled,
their mouths dried,
And their halos melted,
I thought I heard you humming Satie.
But you were only coughing up nicotine
In rhythm to the dying song of an overdosing art student.
© David Clifford Turner, 2010

For more scrawls, head to: www.ramblingbastard.blogspot.com
Martin Bailes Feb 2017
I love the Muppets
I really do,
so it pains me
just a little
to observe that
Jeffrey Lord on CNN
looks like one.

I see him as one
of the old guys
in the theatre box,
but this chaps all
smug & self-satisfied
& so all wisdom-like,
when in fact
his head is
up his Muppet ***.

Kellyanne Conway too,
she's Muppetesque,
with her death-skull smirk
her so-sure inane chatter,
she gives the impression
of all-knowing wisdom
with her condescension,
her weaves and bobs,

Stephen Miller too
all sounding that Trumpet,
seeming born fully-formed
in a cheap shiny suit,
balding already,
& so, so bitter,
after having
surrendered
his lunch money
first day of school.

If the Muppets
had an episode
produced in Hades,
these unpleasant folks
could take centre stage,
as Satan's minions
grimaced & smirked
in the stalls,

& Lucifer himself
led the applause
as the Trumpeters
bowed centre stage
amidst an odorous
sulphorous stink,
& a rapturous cacophony
of beating wings
& shiny scraping claws.
you spoke with your back turned
like nothing was wrong
the kettle sat screaming
its blistering song

your eyes crack with thunder
I don’t look away.
I taste every stormcloud
and swallow the rain

you asked if I loved you
then smirked at the floor
i said it too slowly,
you moved for the door

We fought in the hallway,
your knuckles went red.
You hit without blinking
and meant what you said.

you find every fracture
then press where it stings
You say, “it’s devotion,”
and tighten your strings.

You lean in, now limping,
your voice raw and rough.
We clutch like survivors
who'd suffered enough.

Your hands then remember
what you never confessed,
you kiss where you hurt me
and ask for the rest.

but still, when you’re shaking,
and all fury’s gone,
I gather your pieces
and whisper a song

I stitched up the silence
you gave me to keep
and rocked us together
til sorrow found sleep

We curled in the ash
what didn’t survive,
and found even ruin
leaves something alive.
Tasha Feb 2013
The floor was cold under my bare feet as I crept down the stairs, listening to the noises that the house was making. The kind of noises it made when it thought everyone was asleep – the hum of the refrigerator, occasional clunks, the creaks as the walls warmed up and cooled down. By all rights, I should have been asleep.
Outside, the night was the impenetrable black that you only ever see in the dead of night, in the middle of winter. My face looked ghostly and pale in the glass of the window as I turned the tap, water sluggishly filling my glass. It was a peculiar feeling – like being disconnected from everything around you. Freefalling.

“Bit late, even for you.” I jumped, when I shouldn’t have. I don’t think you ever slept. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking.”

“Ah.” Your shadow moved towards me across the room, and I watched your reflection in the frosty window.  “It’s cold.”

“I know.” This was how we worked, this shorthand. For a guy who never shut up, and a girl who never said anything, I suppose it wasn’t unusual.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“I’m not the one who’s half-naked.”

You chuckled, and I turned to look at you. Sweatpants hugging your hips and nothing else.

“Are you allergic to shirts?” I felt compelled to ask.

“I sleep naked. This is dressed up.” You smirked.

My cheeks flushed, and I was so grateful that the dark hid it. Suddenly, I was conscious of my pyjamas. Which was ridiculous – there was nothing wrong with sleepy sheepy.

You were watching me, that slow smile messing with my head.

“What?” I snapped irritably, uncomfortable with the weight of your gaze. “What?”

“Nothing.” You said, shaking your head. “You just look nice” you reached out, caught a wave of my hair, “with your hair down.”

I tugged away, making an impatient noise, and you dropped your hand to my arm. I looked up at you, wild eyed, and you stared back. I didn’t pull away.

For the first time in your life, your eyes weren’t dancing around, constantly distracted. They were still. We were still. We were trapped in that second.

“Are you cold?” I asked, and a part of me congratulated myself. That sounded almost normal, nice one.

You smiled slowly, your pupils huge and diluted. I wanted to tell them to stop, they were swallowing the green and it wasn’t fair.

“Not anymore.”

You reached your spare arm up and cupped the side of my neck, I watched your eyes, and they watched your hand. You tangled your long, pianist’s fingers in my hair, and looked up, into my eyes.

“Can I kiss you?”

Before, when we were dancing and I was so scared that the music was my drug, that I’d come around and know it had been a mistake, I had said no.

But there is nothing hypnotic about standing in a dark kitchen, skin crawling with the memory of shivers and when the soundtrack is the humming of the fridge.

“Yes.”

Your head dipped slowly towards mine, and I counted every second.

One.

I was falling.

Two.

Your breath touched my face, my eyes were closed.

Three.

Maybe you were falling too.

Four.

Your lips brushed mine, a whisper of a kiss, and then deepened. And suddenly we weren’t two, beautiful, broken teenagers with no way out and who were so, so tired. Suddenly, we were a girl in sheep pyjamas and a boy with smiling eyes. Suddenly, we were inconsequential to the grand scheme of things. Suddenly, we were all that mattered.

And when you pulled away, and my eyes opened reluctantly, I saw that you weren’t going to disappear. There was no pounding bass to hide behind and my hair was brushing my the bottom of my shoulder blades.

“Okay?” You said, and I watched the way your eyes sparked, my mind was humming.

“Okay.” I said, and I knew that, for the first time in a while, there would be no nightmares tonight.
Sarah Khan Aug 2015
I took a seat at the chess-board
I felt tense as a tightly stretched cord
My opponent turned around to face me
And a look of great fear did grace me

Feebly, I moved up a pawn
I felt vulnerable as a fawn
He smirked, and he brought out a knight
So consumed was I with fright

That I did do something so rash
I brought out my queen, and then CRASH!
My queen was captured by the horse
My face was consumed by remorse

I thought of offering a draw
I thought of my chess-playing flaw
Then I remembered one thing
That I was still badly losing

He brought his queen to the seventh rank
He knew that he had to be frank
With a knight of his standing idly by,
My king moved up, up into the sky

He clearly stated in a voice great,
I have won, you lose, Checkmate!
My eyes welled up with salty tears
My cries against the victor’s cheers

From this day forth I dread to play
Chess does make my mood so gray
I forever ponder the mess
That I made of that game of chess.
Based on an actual game of chess, I wrote this poem to truly capture how crushing it can be to be defeated in anything!
Melanie Melon Feb 2014
when I walked in my stomach was screaming nerves,
my heart felt fluttery from my first of many iced black coffees.
I fixed my eyes fixed on the black hightops I stared at everyday during first period,
the peeling rubber toes pointing straight at me.

I looked up, meeting eyes with the spitting image of Kurt Cobain
who smirked at me curiously, then lifted a finger, and turned into the kitchen.
I busied myself untying my boots, even though they had zippers,
promising myself I wouldn’t loose my balance.

The high tops returned, followed by weathered leather moccasins,
who murmured through his teeth “hmmm, designing with materials girl” .
I grinned through my eyes, attempting not to make myself intimate with the floor so soon,
expertly faking breathy laugh to cover up how utterly freaked the unfamiliar title made me.

High tops grabbed my waist and twirled me into the kitchen,
offering a cigarette before disappearing through the screen door and leaving me
in a room filled with music that ran through my head like a brush
combing out the tangles from driving with my sunroof down.

I was surrounded by people with purple hair and overflowing hearts
who floated around the room singing and talking and dancing
while I wondered how I should fill the shoes of my new title
and what kind of shoes I should even be filling.

out of the corner of my eye, I saw high tops march back ;
he didn’t seem to float but parade, his ponytail not quite matching his muscle shirt arms.
He waltzed right up to moccasins and kissed him proper on the mouth
hands holding his jaw, eyes closed, and balanced on his toes.

Satisfied, he stormed back out through the screen
pulling a pack of blacks and a white lighter from his back pocket
(he would soon tell me he didn’t believe in luck,
even though it was in his pocket when he was arrested over a houseplant).

Moccasins just smiled, eyes rolling up into his brown hair
and with his hands out palms ceilingward in a silent offer, he locked his eyes on mine
Before I had a chance to overanalyze,
he decided for me.

Maintaing eye contact, we danced to the 22 year old boys screaming through the boom box
while I tried to integrate myself into the scene,
tried to float so effortlessly too,
like the cigarette smoke oozing in from the patio

he pulled me into a hug that resented gravity
effortlessly lifting all six feet of me off the ground,
pressing my cheek against the cutoff edge of his tie dye tank top,
my blonde hair tugging between his chest and mine

So with fuzzy lemonade on my lips
and bass players hands on my hips
I figured out I didn't need shoes
if i never touched the ground.
IN PROGRESS UGH THIS IS A HARD MEMORY TO ILLUSTRATE
iridescent Aug 2013
a blinding car light,
will this be the end?
(now i can finally leave this hell)
closed eyes, opened arms, standing in the rain
i trust my demons they said this would end the pain

a white room
where is this place?
(am i in heaven? i should not be)
throbbing headache, blank mind
staring at the ceiling hovering over my eyes.

a man in white
who is this?
(what the hell am i still alive)
flying fists, bruised knuckles
a jab behind my neck, i fell into a deep slumber.

a thick leather strap tied over me
do they think that i'm crazy?
(those who wants to live are indeed out of their minds)
desperate cries, results of my warped perceptions
and my very best friends smirked at my desperation.

standing in the shadows
is this a trap they had set?
(i trusted them so much i thought they would help)
they inflicted pain and led me to another hell
but it's okay, everyone i knew never meant me well.
Pacific Wolf Jan 2018
Like a well oiled engine, my heart whirrs in pleasure at your sight
Found a biker boy and rode into the sunset

I'm a ship honey. Take me from my harbor
A sailor caught my helm and sailed into the horizon

Are you a black hole? Because you **** me in.
The physicist sat me on his lap and we got lost in space

Are you Messi ? Because I'm a Ballon d'or.
Shots were fired. Goals were scored. And they ruled the field together.

I have reached the top tier of Maslow's needs.
After extensive psychoanalysis, we found our counselors in each other.

If you're a rebuttal point, I'll always have you covered.
She and the debater found their grey patch amidst the black and white.

I'll make you a sandwich if you are male, white and a misogynist.
She found love with the racist and waited on him hand and foot.

I'll draw your heart with HB pencils and make an acrylic out of our relationship.
The artist found her bluetiful and incRedible.

I'm a South Indian who loves dosa, an uneducated Bihari, the patanjali promoting Hindu, the Muslim terrorist, the Christian converter, the Russian spy, the fake Chinese, the blond cheerleader, the ladyless female football player, the classy British, the poor illiterate, the fat American, the mannerless slum dweller, the conservative Indian woman, the dumb ****, the unromantic geek, the bald science teacher, the old librarian, the charisma less nerd......
Stereotype found it's soulmate and lived happily ever after.

I fall in love with words. Ink is my blood. Emotions and thoughts are my food.
The poet smirked and said," Haha! Nice try."

~Pacific Wolf
Dark n Beautiful May 2017
May the roof above us never fall in?
and may we friends gathered below never fall out.
May the good saints protect us
And bless us today
And may troubles ignore you
Each step of the way:  quote from an Irish blessing**


~~~~~~~~~~
When the living pretend to don’t care
About Obamacare, or this new healthcare
in this year of two thousand and seventeen  

His legacy is Washington new vanishing act
They daunting faces, as they smirked in triumph
The poor man burden, once again is left out in the dark
Washington DC is becoming the number one soap opera
An uncaring state of mind for the men in black

Who hold the magic key, who hired the pied piper?
Will pay the price:  the cry that will get us the most
is the cry of the children, in the final hours?

The wine bottle glugging sound effect as they praise
Cork popping, family bawling, and once again
We march for justice, when the living pretend to don’t care

Delay and Repeal:

I have not the power to stop them in the tracks,
All I can do is to write lousy poetry
reconsidered this bill: You have won
Now think of last man in the race:
AE Jul 2017
The time when the sky is greyed to hues of poignant blue
And the mist haunts the the ground
The cool breeze slitthers around your ears with secrets and stories to tell
When warmth is just a distant memory
And the sun seems to have escaped the endless loop of its cycle
Yet it's not night nor is it day
It's not dawn nor dusk
It's when you unravelled in the chaos of the dead leaves
And payed your debts with blankets of ice
But your grudges held their place in your sleepless nights
And your restlessness laughed in the face of forgiveness
Your stubbornness smirked at the idea of redemption
Yet you still wondered why peace escaped you.
Just a reminder to forgive everyone before you sleep. Don't hold grudges my friends :)
The Forest May 2013
she jumped

he was frightened

the shock
could not
be heightened

and that led to
a
gasp

a person
nearby

heard the gasp
(he thought 'twas a cry)

and he ran to help
in case it was
a
matter very grim

but in doing so
he twisted his
ankle
which made him swear
and
bellow

which caused another fellow

to be concerned for
the ears
of certain
children

who liked the sounds
of the exclamations
and repeated them
often to
their
horrified parent's
ears

and those
parents
were
worried

and new actions
they prepared

to help poor children never learn filth
but the
people all in favor

unfortunately
shared the room
where
a naughty little bug who liked to call
himself
doom

gave them all the flu

and smirked
and laughed which caused his sister to be alarmed

and that wasn't good for her health

and even with all their wealth

   the bugs could not save her from
certain
decease

so they wept
and wet the ground

which was full of little seedlings

and needed just a little bit of
water to
spring up

and so many little shoots
came through
and made the ground

a pretty sight with flowers
all around

...and all
of this
glorious-ness
happened
because
someone

*jumped
blurcasewriter Mar 2017
"You're a goofball" she muttered
"And you're a typo queen" I smirked at her
"But you're my goofball" she smirked back
"Forever and always like you are my queen"
Yet now I'm reminiscing and a total wreck..
Base on a true story :(
Pep Jul 2016
You approached me like a good boy.
I wondered if you had the same wet ***** thoughts I had about you, especially with that body of yours.
Do you want to feel me.
My body is pure, but my mind is definitely not.
I smirked at you, and you grinned at me.
But it was no innocent grin.
You asked for a dance.
I wanted to rub my body on you, but I didn’t since you pulled me closer.
You whispered seductively in my ear:
I know you know about me stalking you, mi amor.
I remember then, I suddenly grabbed your face and stared at those lips as you did mine.
I took the first move, the lead, and I smashed my lips upon yours.

The kiss first started off heated, but then turned into one of urgency.
before she left him
8. The Knowing
Vijaya Balan Oct 2014
My demons danced at the gates as I walked into the temple,
She looked peaceful and glimmered in the sunlight,

She asked me "Why do you look calmer today? Is it this place? "
"No" I replied. "I left my baggage at the door,but I'll need them back when I go out into the world "

"You need some company with that, mine are making friends with yours right now", she smirked and her eyes twinkled.
This is the tale of the gentleman who wore a trilby hat .
He spoke  Uhum, to himself ,
and muttered things under his breath .
His dress was smart ,
but casual ,
and so the ladies would agree ,
‘What a strange man ,
yet he looks so dapper ,
I wish he would speak to me ‘

Now some of the larger girls grinned and smirked as he went on his merry way ,
he doffed his hat ,
and that was that as he passed them on his way .

He walked home ,
Key in the door ,
‘ hi dear I’m home once more ‘
to no answer came ,
it never did ,
he took off his hat ,
Placed it on a hook on the wall ,
took off his coat ,
and placed it on a coat rack ,
took off his shoes ,
changed into his pjs and slippers ,
and sat down .



His grammar phone played the laughing police man every hour  of every day

It just wouldn’t go away .
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha !
stuck in the groove
Ha ha ha ha ha ha !
Your Name Here Jun 2017
Just needed one look,
as I gazed into ur telling eyes
to know the fire is still burning,
obvious it's still alive.
And baby girl its heating up,
catching wind, it strives.
Stretching to the pearly white clouds,
it disperses through the sky.

Your lips were smirked,
coated a hint of chocolate brown.
Melted right through me,
knocked all my defenses down.
Became Lost in ur look,
like a pouting puppy in the pound.
Perched on ur throne,
defiant, just missing ur crown.

Then as quickly as you arrived,
you instantly left.
Had me stunned and shook,
drowning with regret.
Missing the photgraphed chokers,
softly fit, yet snug on ur neck.
Fell back on reminiscing of the night,
the magical night we first met.
True story
Donall Dempsey Feb 2017
TO BOLDLY GO

Hour by hour
the snow

grew heavier and heav...i...ER
grew more and more

daring
deciding to boldly go

where no snow
had ever gone before!

It had listened to an entire
box set of early Star Trek

leaking from
the house's windows.

It knew it
off by heart

admired Kirk
adored Spock.

The snow pushed the door
ten-ta-tivel-y ope:N

at first, but. . .now that
push had come to shove

( the latch had not been
latched properly)

opted to" "Wot de. . !"
go for it.

"That's one small step
for a snowflake...one big step

...for snowkind!"
it chuckled hee hee to it self.

"Yavaş. . .yavaş"
it repeated slowly slowly.

It was Turkish snow.

The snow advanced
flake by flake

just putting one flurry
in front of the other

into the( gasp )
"Oh mother!"

living room!

"So, this...
is how humans

- live?"

The bookshelves
feeling a little chilly

woke and whimpered
"Oh my pages...oh...my pages!"

as the unrelenting whiteness
crept nearer and:

- nearer.

"Where is a reader when
you really need one!"

asked a newly acquired
Saito Masaya.

"Isn't anyone gonna do
anything about this!"

screamed the Poems of Oktay
Rifat.

The Poems of Nazim
Hikmet

were...were...were
speechless!

But the humans were busy
snoring.

A string of cartoon Z's
like Christmas decorations

emanated from
the room of the bed.

Even the guilty one
( who would catch hell

in the huh huh morning )
slept the sleep of the innocent

since the Star Trek
had been watched all

the way through and
love had been drunkenly made.

The snow a little
nervous now

in case the book's readers
would come to their rescue

wet
the carpet.

"Oh my giddy flakes...no
but when ya gotta

go ya gotta gooooo!"
smirked the snow.

A mobile phone
asleep on the sofa

heard voices ringing
in its head

suddenly woke
spoke

in a disembodied voice
that went - straight to message.

"Wow...you guys...wow
you should see outside

...it's...like
crazy awesome!"

The snow( held
its breath): "Oh oh...

...an informer!"

It felt like the fallen
book by the carpet's edge

A Spy In The House
Of Love.

It didn't know what
an Anaïs Nin

could be.

It had a lot
to learn.

But the phone
slipped into sleep again

voiceless now.

In the morning they
found it.

"Holy cow...how...?"

Each of the humans
blaming the other

more especially
the guilty human .

"Your mother....
...don't bring my mother into this."

Neither of them spoke to the other
for the rest of the day.

The snow lay
curled up

in the fireplace
dead to the world

fast fast
asleep

drunk on the success
of its excess

dreaming that it had become
human.

A balloon clung
to the ceiling

didn't know how
to get down somehow.

The snow played
possum.

It took an hour
to evict it

with shovels and
curses.

Later, the snow
told the snow

that had been too
afraid to come in

all it had seen
all it had been.

"No...?" said the bottom-
of-the garden snow.

". . .no?"
Melissa Ann Nov 2014
She blew the smoke from her lips beautifully and delicately, as if she didn't want it to break as it left her.
"So you just wanna talk?" She said pulling the cigarette away from her mouth and dipping it into the ash tray.
"Just talk," I replied. Calmly, soothingly.
"Alright Mack, you paid $2000 for tonight. Do you want me to talk to you naked or with my legs in the air?"
I smirked and shook my head.
"Just talk. Fully clothed."
She stared at me a long moment before lighting another smoke and taking another drag; she exhaled with just as much intensity. She looked at me, up and down. Her blue eyes taking in each detail.
She put the cigarette down for a moment and unfolded her long legs, and leaned toward me, clasping her hands together in her lap. The shadows from the lights outside the hotel room were moving with her face, until the light shone on just her right eye and the blonde bangs fell, hiding the rest of her expression.
"Why is it you paid for me tonight?"
"I wanted to get to know you."
She gave a humourless laugh, quick and almost painful to listen to.
"Did you wanna fix me or somethin'?"
"No," I replied. "Only you can do that."
She took that in, backing herself back up into the shadows.
"I have one question for you to answer. That's it."
"Really. That's it?"
"That's it."
She looked at me with eyes that changed. They had become sad.
"And what is it you want to ask me?"
I looked down at my intertwined hands and back at her. Into those beautiful, sad eyes.
"Why did you decide to make this your life?"
She didn't look taken aback by my question. She didn't even look phased. She looked as though she had been asked this a thousand times. Then, her eyes went back to being cold and dark. All traces of sorrow were gone.
"I had to. What's it to you?"
"Just seems someone with so much potential would go into school for being a doctor or a lawyer."
She smiled a sad smile. "How do you know what potential I have? Besides, I'm 33 and have the body of a 20 year old and I bet I make five times more then you do in an hour."
"You're probably right," I said nodding. I ignored her question about her potential. She already knew what she was capable of. She was just afraid of it.
I looked back up at her.
"But can I ask you something else?"
She was smoking once more. "I thought you said just one question."
"Enlighten me."
"Alright. What?"
"Do you love doing this?"
This time, she was taken aback by this question. She held the cigarette in her fingers, staring into the ash tray.
"No," she said quietly. "No, I don't."
"You don't have to do this, you know."
She shook her head sadly and looked out the window as she took a drag.
"It's not that simple."
"Why?"
She blew out the smoke and turned to look at me. A single tear falling from her eye.
"Because I am broken, and I can't fix me."
More of a short then a poem.
Ruby Flynn Nov 2011
Jesus came to my birthday party when i was 17.
He listened and laughed and smirked a bit
at the holes and scars in my dreams.
He wore a black hat, and jeans, and chains;
he said heaven was not what it seemed.
That angels and devils were one and the same,
and them plus me makes three.
He said nobody knows what's really the matter,
so just keep on pretending to be
what God and teachers and mothers and fathers
all expect from a girl of 17.

That was a long time ago,
and i haven't seen him in a while.
He smokes on occassion, but not for fun,
and says he was innocent and should have had a trial.
But he's dead and so am i so what's even the use,
of remembering a birthday that never existed:
i'll plead insanity as my excuse.
Will Feb 2019
I did not expect to lose you.
It seems this ending was inevitable, perhaps even predictable.
But those quandaries aside, losing you tears me up inside.
We live under the same roof, yet are you still here?
You say "hello" when I walk in the room, but are you my friend?
I loved you like a brother, and told you so.
Somehow in doing so I angered you.
Suddenly I was wrong and in denial.
"There is no way you love me that way." He said.
He smirked and walked away into the next day.
A lonely text flashed across my screen.
"I think it's best if you and I were rarely seen."
Tears welled up in my eyes.
Losing my friend, roommate, and brother all in one night.
Bellamy Nieto Oct 2020
You are nothing, worse than nothing,
You are the dog **** I step in when I go for a jog,
The intrusive thought that keeps me awake at night,
The betrayal of a best friend turned enemy.
I cried on your shoulder, you smirked at the opportunity.
I wanted to die, you wanted to ****.
I said no! You insisted on anything.
Pity. Pity, pity, pity, pity, pity.
I agree, helpless, alone, desperate, betrayed, suicidal
You know nothing!
I now dream of beatings, but I am not the victim rather the inflictor
I raise my fists, you cower in fear
I strike, you dodge
Always out of my reach.
But poor you.
My mother and father will always be by my side, yours love you but do not like you
You look over your shoulder at every turn
The promise of me being silent, a withering desperate attempt to save yourself
I waste away, you waste with me
NO
I did not get to choose this fate but I will live with it
I will be successful
I will be loved
I will be safe
I will spend time with my friends
I will tell my sister I love her
I will not waste any more time on you.
I will clean the **** from my shoe and keep on running.
My life is worth it.
Kirsten Lovely Apr 2013
I decided to play cards sometime
And my partner wasn't right
His smile seemed so greedy
Something's off about this night.
'Go ahead,' he grinned
'I'm ready to play
Let's start a war with 52.
Make it equal (26!)
Let's fight- just me and you.'
I dealt the deck
As he rang the bell
'Ready.' I said
'Let's fly on to hell.'
His horns- they grew,
His teeth turned to spikes
He smirked and gave me the first one
Told me 'Hey, just out of spite.'
We continued to dance
And the swords, how they flew,
The spears they shone,
Lost to a Queen- just a two.
My partner snuck peeks
At my face- now he knew
I'd been dancing with the devil
Winning a war of just us two.
He whittled his cards
It became quite a joke
I was outfoxing the fox
Sore loser- that old bloke.
'Not possible!' He cried
'I'm the devil, you're in hell!
You just fought a war with me
See, you won, please do tell.'
I chuckled to myself
'Oh, I see quite alright
Thank you, kind devil,
but I must bid you goodnight.
Sweet dreams, old fellow,
Or maybe you won't.
Please, cheer up, good man,
You went from red to new yellow.'
He turned and then huffed,
'Oh shut up, you fool!
I've been fixing up my game
And you're just a tool.'
He left, and I smiled,
Just grinning to myself
I'd just danced with the devil
He never asked, that old elf.
You see, I've had training
I'm fairly good at it now
My sword throwing's improving,
and with that,
I take a bow.
Dorothy A Apr 2012
The first time that Evan laid eyes on her, he told himself that he was going to marry her. Embarrassed by his own fantasy, he quickly dismissed that thought as fast as it came to mind, telling himself what an idiot he was. Yet, from time to time, in spite of his reasoning, the thought would invade his skull.

What a dumb idea anyhow! It was just lame, teenage fantasyland! Girls did that kind of junk all the time, saying they were going to be Mrs. So-and-so, and thank God nobody could read his mind to know what he was dreaming up! Like she would marry him! He felt like a dumb ****, great in athletics, but far out of her league. Not even having the courage yet to ask a girl out on a date, and now he was already thinking of marriage! Pathetic! Really! Only a freshman in high school, he felt he should know better, lacking the good common sense his dad always tried to drive into him and had himself.

Ginny Delgado belonged with the smart kids, the brains of the school, although she seemed to stick more by herself, away from any stereotypical clique. Evan had first seen her in his biology class, and he remembered when other students wanted to copy off of her test papers. She never allowed any of that to happen, though, even if it would gain her popularity, false popularity but attention just the same.

It was a surprise to him that Ginny seemed to have few friends. Mostly, girls who were nerdy and smart did not seem very attractive or put together. Ginny seemed to have it all. She was smart and pretty, but she never identified with any of the girls who thought they were hot—and all other girls were not—and so she stood apart as one who shrouded herself in guarded aloofness.

And now here he was at his 20th high school reunion, one he really did not want to attend, but talked himself into going anyway. Perhaps, he could shoot the breeze and run into a few old buddies, his basketball friends. He didn't think that much of Ginny since he graduated from Fillmore, much less anybody from all those years ago. There really wasn’t any reason to reminisce once high school was behind him. School was not misery for Evan Stewart, but it wasn’t a time where everything seemed magical and carefree, not like for some students who looked upon those days as some of the fondest memories of their lives.

It was the class of ’92, and a huge banner displayed across one of the walls read, “Welcome back, class of 1992! Fillmore High School rules!” There was a good turnout, and Evan recognized a lot of people, although there were fewer that he knew by name.  

Sitting under dimly light lights, around a bunch of round tables, Evan now sat with the other alumni, stuck in a crowded hall with music blaring away from the early nineties. He had his overpriced meal. He had his few beers.

But what now?

He was almost bored to death. He was beginning to watch the clock more and more, scanning the room to see if he could possibly find reason to stay longer.  But then something happened that he never expected to happen, never even would have imagined it.

And, suddenly, his heart started to pick up its pace.

Was that her?

Evan thought he had made out the vague shape of a possibly familiar figure, an amazing and sudden surprise. Was that Ginny Delgado?

He wondered if he was seeing things as he intently stared across the room at the shadowy prospective of Ginger Delgado. But with the low amount of lighting, it just might not be her but someone he never even met before. How awkward would what be?

If it was Ginny, she was sitting next to a guy who seemed obnoxious and full of himself. Even from afar, he appeared to be a guy who would be in everyone’s face, with wild hand gestures, talking away and giving nobody else a chance for a word in edgewise.  If that really was Ginny, was that her husband? What a trip that would be! All the sense he once attributed to her would have to have gone out the window, if that were the case.

Sitting at Evan’s table were several of the other guys that were also heavy into high school basketball. Most were married and came with their wives—nobody was alone as Evan was—and now they all tried to act like they were thrilled to be all gathered together to show off their accomplishments. They were all passing around stories of life after high school, after basketball—some with talk of their college days, their wives, their kids, their jobs and careers—plenty of drinks to go around, and some toasting to the good, old days and to even brighter futures ahead. Evan was never married and did not have any children, so he felt he had much less to say. Most of those guys were not even very interesting, even though they tried to make it out that they had achieved so much in their lives. They may have been out of shape and past their prime, but all of them tried to act like they were the same as they were twenty years ago. None of what they all said impressed Evan at all, even though he tried to be interested.

He kept looking at the woman across the room, and the more he looked at her, the more he was convinced he was spot on about her. She had to be Ginny! He should just get up now and have the guts to ask her! But what would she say? Yes, I am Ginny Delgado, and this pushy **** next to me is my husband?

Though he was twenty years older, Evan felt just as awkward and as scared as he did in his freshman Biology class. It was better to just let the issue be. He’d rather save face than look like a total fool.

Suddenly, the unexpected occurred, something that gave Evan’s heart even more of a stir than he initially had when he spied her presence. Was it possible? Ginny now looked like she was starring back at him, as if they had somehow miraculously locked eyes and she had an uncanny ability to notice him back, from that afar off, now being transfixed onto him!  

You’ve really lost it now. What do you think, that she really notices you and remembers you?

Ginny stopped paying attention to the obnoxious man beside her and kept looking in Evan’s direction. She even reached her hand up and gave a little wave out his way.

Timidly, Evan waved back.

Standing up, Ginny started to make her way across the room. The obnoxious guy next to her looked on after her, like he could not believe she had wanted to part company with him. Evan guessed she was not his wife—thank God for that!

No, there is just no way she is coming over to talk to you. Alright, maybe she is. Get a hold of yourself now! Stop acting like a teenager and act like you actually know something about women. Come on, Evan! Get it together! She is coming.

Evan was right. It was Ginny Delgado! But she stopped short of his table to sit a down at the table in front of him, next to another fellow classmate of theirs, a female student that he vaguely remembered, though he did not know her name.

It was almost a relief she did not come to sit with him! Yet the disappointment was equally there. Seeing her more up close, Evan knew for sure it was Ginny. She was still quite pretty, perhaps even more so now, her medium brown hair and her dark purple dress complimenting each other. Not wanting to stare, Evan couldn’t help but to shoot many glances her way, without trying to be too obvious.
          
She smiled a lot, glad to talk to another person that she knew, and probably glad to be away from the guy she was stuck with before. Her eyes sparkled, and Evan never remembered ever seeing her so unguarded. In biology class, she was quiet, like he tended to be. Now she seemed so different, seemingly freer to be herself. Evan rarely saw her smile in high school, but thought she was very serious and sophisticated.

Before long, the DJ was now playing Eric Clapton’s Tears in Heaven. Couples at all tables were making their way to the dance floor. Soon, Ginny was approached by some guy who asked her to join him for a dance. She shook her head, no. Nonchalantly, the man turned to the woman that Ginny knew and asked her. She gladly accepted, said something to Ginny as if to have her permission and understanding, and then took the man’s hand to go to the dance floor. Ginny remained at the table by herself, looking on at the dancers with seemingly little regret that she declined an offer.

This might be your only chance, idiot. Are you going to blow it and be a wuss? Go up to her and tell her that you remember her. Go on! It is your perfect chance. What do you have to lose? If she isn’t interested, just go then. You’ve spent enough time here anyway!

“Hi…Ginny Delgado isn’t it?”

Evan asked as he approached her from behind. He cleared his throat. His voice had sounded so gravelly, as if he hadn’t uttered a single word all night. And his heart was beating a mile a minute, and he swore it must have been pulsating through his shirt. He was glad he put his suit jacket back on, for he was probably sweating like crazy.  

Ginny looked up, seemed to look puzzled, but then smiled a little. “I remember you!” she said with growing enthusiasm on her face. “Oh, but I’m sorry. You are going to have to tell me your name again”.

“Evan Stewart”, he replied. “We were in biology class together Remember? We were sophomores.”

A succession of slow songs was now being played, and Ginny’s friend was enjoying the time with her new dance partner. She certainly was in no hurry to make her way back to the table to rejoin sitting and talking with Ginny.

“Oh, sure! I remember now!” Ginny exclaimed. “Evan Stewart. Of course! You were the tall, shy guy that everyone liked because you knew how to win one for us. You were big into baseball, weren’t you?”

“Well, basketball was my best sport. I liked baseball, too, and track”, he replied humbly. It was amazing! She actually remembered more him than he thought she would!  “

Can I sit down and join you?” he asked, his courage and confidence growing.

“Oh, do!” Ginny replied, eagerly.

He felt like he was in seventh heaven. How cool was this? Sitting with Ginny Delgado? It was a bonus to a fairly descent reunion.

“So what have you been up to for the last twenty years?” Evan asked. His face was flush with embarrassment, as if he was just a guy who happened to luck out, but had no real skill in socializing with a woman he once fantasized about.

Ginny laughed a little, putting her hand up to her mouth as if her response was inappropriate. She responded, “You want a few hours? Or should I just give you a one word response?”

Evan smiled, blushing, as he tried to appear smooth and confident. “A one word response?” he asked.

“Yes. I can say it in one word—roller coaster….oops, that is two words”.

They both just sat there as I Can’t Make You Love Me, by Bonnie Raitt, played on.  

“Yeah…I guess I could say that about my life”, Evan agreed. “Would you like me to get you something from the bar?” he offered. “A coke or a beer?”

Ginny stared out onto the floor, as if she never heard him. “Isn’t it amazing how everyone comes to see the same people they always used to hang out with and still intend to hang out with to this day?” she asked. “How boring and predictable!”

Evan looked at her, puzzled, “What do you mean?”

Ginny continued to look out onto the floor, the music now upbeat dance music, and said, “Well, I mean you see all the football heroes all hanging out with each other. The members of the debate team are all huddled together as if they are preparing for the next debate. The cheerleaders, the drama club, the science club geeks…nothing has changed has it?”  

Evan shrugged his shoulders. “I guess that is typical. But that isn’t me. Sure, I saw some of the guys I played ball with, basketball, but the truth is I am not really that interested in hanging out with them.”

Ginny turned to look at him, her hazel eyes intent and solemn. Evan added, “I don’t have any contact with any of them. Nothing against them. I just don’t”.

They looked at each other in the eyes for a while. The silence was awkward. It was as Evan’s watching and waiting for her reply was the cue for Ginny to open up, and open up she did.

“I went to UCLA on a scholarship. I became a history major, world history, American history, women’s history. I never intended to teach, not at first. But it just seemed a good fit for me, and I have had plenty of teaching jobs, junior high school, high school. I moved to Sacramento.  I was briefly married after I got my first real teaching job there.”

Ginny’s eyes glistened. There was a pain in them that seemed locked in deep, not really wanting to expose itself too much, but coming out nonetheless.

Evan listened on, eagerly, so she went on, her gaze towards the dance floor “It did not work out. He cheated. He did it more than once and with more than one woman.  And now that I look back, I can see how wrong it all was, especially after my miscarriage. At first, I was so crushed, and I wanted to try again, for another baby, to try to please him, Jim, my husband. Thank God, I didn’t go on and on with him. I am glad I came back here…..back to Springdale.”

She looked back at Evan. He quickly looked away from her glance, his eyes downcast to the table. She wasn’t kidding. Her life was a roller coaster. He did not know what to say, felt so inadequate.

He decided to just share, in return.

”I was engaged once. It was a long engagement. She was a friend of a friend. Lana was her name. She told me she wanted to be with me, but she just wasn’t ready to make the big leap just right away. Actually, I am kind of glad now that I look back. We both owned our own shops. She was a hair stylist and I owned my own car repair shop, but that was about all we really had in common. I mean not really, even though we both liked sports a lot. We never seemed to agree on anything.”

Like he did, Ginny just listened intently, not attempting to make any reply. Evan added, “She was willing to cut me down in a second. I see that now”.

“Well how do you like that?!”

Evan and Ginny looked up as the woman that Ginny came over to see arrived back from the dance floor. She was walking, hand in hand, with her new found dance partner, fanning herself with her hand and laughing.

“Ginny’s got some company, too!” she exclaimed, beaming at Evan.    

Ginny replied, “Rhonda Flemming, this is Evan Stewart. She used to be Rhonda Boehner back in Fillmore”

Ginny turned to Evan to introduce him to her old classmate. “Evan…Rhonda. Evan, I don’t know if you two ever met each other before when we all went to school”.

“I’m not sure I have, either”, he replied, extending his hand to shake Rhonda’s. Rhonda quickly grabbed hold of his and gave it an overly enthusiastic shake.

“Hi, Evan!” she exclaimed "This handsome man next to me  is Brian. I never knew Brian until he asked me to dance!” she said excitedly. “And I am newly divorced and so is he! How strange is that?”

Brian shook Evan’s hand and then Ginny’s. “How’s it going?” he asked, grinning with embarrassment at Rhonda’s forward frankness.

“Ginny is one of the smartest people”, Rhonda went on to Evan and Brian. “We were once partners in an English class. We had to write a paper about each other. That was so fun in an otherwise booooooring class. Remember, Ginny?”

Ginny rolled her eyes, and made a shooing gesture with her hand to convey that Rhonda did not know what she was talking about. “I’m not as smart as anyone ever thought I was. I just worked hard and did my best, but thanks anyway for the compliment” , she said, modestly.  

“Oh, you were, too, Ginny!” Rhonda disagreed. She had a gleeful glint in her eyes. “Always so serious, Ginny Delgado! “

Rhonda grabbed Brian’s hand. “Hey, Brian and I are going to go mingle and walk around and see what trouble we can get into. You two want to join us?  

Ginny and Evan looked at each other as if to say “No way!” Ginny responded, “I think we are just fine here, but thanks”

Rhonda winked at her and then tugged at Brian’s hand. The pair of them went off together, leaving Evan and Ginny to themselves.

Evan smirked at Ginny, and then they both started cracking up with muffled laughter. Evan paused and then burst out laughing again. “Where did you find her?” he asked. A tear actually began to run down his face from laughing so hard, and he quickly wiped it away.

Ginny stopped laughing, tried to compose herself, but busted out with even more laugh
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
I’ve been thinking about the first time I laid eyes on you,
I’ve been thinking about you way too much lately, if you ask me.
You don’t need someone like me,

You don’t need a weight to hold you down while you run from
The east coast to the west coast to north to south,
Waiting for you to return to me.

I will fight to be yours until my very, very last exhale,
Don’t doubt my feelings, darling, because they are much too real.

I’ve been craving those butterflies that bounced off the knot in my stomach
That very day when you smiled at me from underneath a halo of blue,
That very day when your eyes fell upon me and I caught my breath,
When you waved, smiled, sang, smiled, smirked for us all to see.

They’ve been telling me to take a breath between words, between thoughts,
I can’t get ’em down on paper quick enough.

I want to remember every little jump my stomach made
At the touch of your skin, at the sound of your name.
Oh, but now I’m thinking I should take a breath, before I lose it all.

Now I’m thinking, clear as I possibly can
With all those thoughts of you in my head,
That I should give everyone a break
From all the blushing and babbling about

You.
Wonderful, glorious, divine, enchanting, entrancing
You.

Hey, I said I’d give it a break,
But if I stop completely I may
Go even more insane.
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
I watched two bullets smash together and fall to the ground yesterday.
Right in front of my no longer innocent eyes.
They made passionate love right before me.
I sipped my tea slowly.
I was trapped in this war.

I stepped over the dead body.
Then found two more as I turned the corner silently.
They lay away from each other, but hands almost touching.
I ate my sandwich and smirked.
I had become use to this.

I watched as the pipe hit their lips.
I saw their hell-stricken bliss, their temporary escape.
They sat together, ******.
I laughed and walked on.
I wouldn't deal with this anymore.

I sat on the plane and stared at the city.
It was trapped within its own barriers and false realities.
But I couldn't be any longer.
Whereever I got off, I would start over.
And I wouldn't allow myself to be trapped.

— The End —