Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Daniel Jul 2018
The lull of a restless night relieves my senses
It's monotone silence maintains my breath
The cold night breeze enters through an open window
It whispers soft tunes and attempts to put me to sleep
The humming of an exhausted laptop helps me decompress
It distracts me from overthinking and blocks out my stress
As the night goes on it starts to rain
It comforts my senses and cleanses my pain
This time-worn house cracks and creaks
It talks of troubled times and how it came to be
This place I call home proves i’m never alone
And it's always there to support me
3rd poem. Enjoy :)
fearfulpoet Aug 2018
school starts soon
smoking joints on the weekday afternoon

in a sidelined shady
freight car, property of
Norfolk Southern

debating if this car will be
northbound or southbound
and master-bating our fantasy
where we want to be taken

knowing full well maybe one of us -
(and they all looking at me)

will get out of this car and live to
see foreign places without having to
return in a body bag

we argue lazy who should go get the beer,
collect the quarters and sweaty dollar bills
and **** if I am  not reappointed
leader of the beer fetching

besides it’s my
tan lab panting needing water so it’s my
responsibility and the nasty liquor store owner don’t hate me that much as the others so he’ll sell me beer without too much **** talk (some for sure)

asking where I’m laying low on a **** hot day like this one

tell him i’m getting on a train getting out of this two bit town which makes him reminisce and ask which direction

could be northbound could be southbound
**** could be west
but for sure won’t be
going eastbound

cause I seen the Atlantic and didn’t like it

too **** big and too **** cold,
too **** mean
Alaina Moore Sep 2018
Thing's that make me uncomfortable:

That feeling when you get mad at me,
because I didn't do the thing, you didn't ask me to do, cause I can't read minds; I'm not your parent.
That tone in your voice when you go off about how unfair the world is, triggered by the slightest setback.
The feeling when I sacrifice all that I am for the sake of your mood and happiness, in vain.
That sound of the exacerbated sigh when I ask you to run an errand, as if I am not also tired.
The pressure of carrying us both on broken legs.
The pit in my chest when I ask your opinion and you say "I don't care," but you actually do care, because whatever choice I make is laced in ridicule.
When you say you're doing something for me but you're just trying to make yourself feel better about doing it for yourself.
When you use my disorder as a justification or excuse, but when I actually need your help you seem burdened and annoyed.
That "okay then" moment when I give you everything you ask for and you take it as if you never wanted it.
"If love is a labor, I'll ***** till the end." -Rise Against

"these words are knives that often leave scars" - Panic! at the Disco
our hearts keep beating
as long as they can

that's the sound of life
Quote from a source no longer remembered
Bella Nov 2018
Sometimes I forget what my own name sounds like
it gets lost in the haystack of other things
and sometimes I remember what crunched leaves sounds like
and it makes me cry
because sometimes
no all the time
my life and I are in a never-ending race and it's so far ahead of me I can't even see it anymore

but when I think back to when my shadow was as slow as I was
to when no one moved any faster than the Breeze
the rattling of leaves was the only song I Knew
when our feet left memories in the ground as we ran
and the tree bark hung on to every moment
training our fingertips to long for its skin

Sometimes I get the whiff of Magnolia leaves
And it makes me cry
Because sometimes
no all the time
I miss the Summers when no one owned us but the trees
and we belonged to each other
and the wind whispered my name
and I never forgot what it sounded like
and I never lost track of my shadow
and the wind... whispered my name
la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la lla la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la lla la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la lla la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la lla la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la lla la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
(perfect)
Perry Dec 2018
Your little southern drawl,
was a little bit confusing.
Double the B
and drop the vowel.
At first,
I didn't understand anything.

Submerged with funny brim hats
in a pool of overly sweet tea
I didn't stay long
this little place just wasn't for me

But now when I see a sign
for this little country town,
all that I can hear
is the cute ring of a belle
and every little word
you adorably mispronounce.
Daniel eason Nov 2018
The earth rotates
We all have our fate
Missing someone
Or not wanting to be yourself
Neglecting your health
Turn your self around
Tune in to the sounds
Magical experiences yet to discover
Enjoy time with one and other
A poem about how you can change things around
Ben McDermott Oct 2016
A year has past,
And I am no longer the same.
But neither are you.

You were the girl,
Who turned from autum to summer.
With golden radiance,
I found myself looking to you,
As a beacon of hope,
In my dark sea of sadness.
You showed me the magic
Of paper and pen
And I was instantly enticed.

With every word you wrote
Every comment you spoke
I felt hope,
That I could learn
To voice my concerns
And finally earn
The right to speak, in turn

Now I don't see you write,
I don't hear your words
That resonated within me.
But it's okay,
Because you're doing something greater
Than just helping me.
You're creating beauty,
For the world to see.

And I am just as guilty.
In my metamorphosis,
I became complacent.
But a little medal around my neck,
Reminded me of the gift you gave me.
So those words on paper transformed
Into the sounds of my own thoughts.

You helped me find a voice on paper
But now it's become words
PurplePanache Oct 2018
The sky glares at my form
                            beneath
                        ­            the
                                       stars
i let the wind ****** my hair
as he gossips away of his ex lovers, the shrubs
(although i know he loves them more)
if blackness was a song, i wish i could play it
but violins have feelings too

I am the veil of the moon
I am Light
Her darkness I hide in scratches of pen
I slither soundlessly among hives and chirps(aviaries, if you know what I mean)
But the words, oh the words
they will not let me go, they are Loud
Like the roars of a tumultuous ocean
Like the fury of a thunder struck sky
Like the silence of Love and the silence of Death
They are loud

I am the Ballad of the Bat Orchid
I am the Ballad of all things dark
And here I am to stay
Here I am to stray
Timmy Shanti Nov 2018
I feel it in my veins:
The way the beat just drops;
The lonely string chimes in;
The melody picks up.

I’m taken to a place
Where sounds paint the sky.
And I’ll be darned and doomed
If I want some other life.
An insight watching some good old TWD and hearing tunes that strike a chord.
27 xi 18

No idea why they would want to mask such innocuos word as "da-m-n-ed", especially so as it's part of a fixed expression, but who knows...
Dan Beyer Sep 2018
I sit by the stream
and listen. (water)
lapping the rocks,
like children's feet
patting across the pavement
on a summer afternoon.
listen–
you can hear the laughter;
little giggles.
jumping and playing
as it flows by.
CK Baker Nov 2017
mirrored fly-glass
and polished chrome
are tinted
in the blood orange dawn
running dogs of lummi
hush quiet
on this celestial
summer morn

clubman bars
and tan saddles
strapped to
the lowered hind
skull caps
and fitted chaps
for the open flow
and rich peripheral scenes

concessions at the peace arch
(from the blue-coated fuzz)
black *****
and maples
cake the bow hill
and chuckanut

choppers launch
at edison
(with their metal fleck
and tuft)
a half moon rises
on the concho
and interstellar cross

cinnamon gulls
and ravens
scour the netted docks
warlock driftwood
and row homes
spot the winding
coastal roads

rumbling sounds
at the packer slew;
the redolence
of briny bay
alive
on the overlook
at fairhaven
Spent a couple days in late September on a motorcycle trip with my brother...weaving through the small towns and villages of the Pacific Northwest.  Magnificent!
CK Baker Feb 2017
it falls through the glow of the wintery trees
building a cover under the breeze
luminous lights sparkle and hatch
snow pack high on the briar patch

pine cones fall from majestic fir
squirrel and robin rustle and stir
sitka spruce at tunnel bluffs
ravens roost on cedar rough

dusted peaks at hurley pass
snowline cuts the avalanche
fox and lynx are on the prowl
hollow eyes from spotted owl

cool winds up the valley trail
whirling snow from diamond vale
chilling flakes in candle hands
moonlight shines across the land

northern lights in krypton green
the sounds of verve are bitter sweet
curtains hang on a cold dark sky
counting stars, a lullaby
Marco Buschini May 2017
I do solemnly swear,
That forever more,
I shall live in a world
Free as one together.
A world that consists of
Pure pleasure,
And unequivocal harmony.
That will last forever,
In a month of Sundays.
And so from this day forth,
I shall exude the richness
Of the heavens,
In ways that are applicable to life  
In the most profound way imaginable.
Which will inevitably,
Echo forever more
In the laughing sounds
Of matrimony.
Blessed my velvet tongue
For I speak the weight of gold,
And sing like an angel,
Whispering enchanting dreams,
And dancing on clouds.
Skylar Del Re Sep 2018
monsters dont lie under my bed
they live inside the noise in my head
they wait behind my eyes
whispering sweet lies
waiting for when they can come alive
absorb the strength i have inside
sneak beneath the soles of my feet
never skip a beat, or ever sleep
wait until i am weak
to lead me to thier world beneath

these villians dont hide in shadows
never lead your side, and always follow
they lure you in at your worst
make sure you have to put them first
take all you have ,but still you need
your heart and soul off they feed
make you forget all thats worthwhile
take over who you are,
rest easy while you're in denial
when you are in the dark they scream
so loud and clear, no escape from the dream
when your in the light they talk too
no matter where you are they always want you

how do you escape your mind
no release, begging please, give me the light
demons knocking at my door
always searching, wanting more
how are you to win this fight
who will save you from thier night
can you find the crystal site
to lead you into moonlight
sometimes you have to face the fall
hit rock bottom lose it all
to get back up and start a new
find your path, search your truth

armor up and prepare for battle
you are stronger than these shadows
remember who and what you are
and all the beauty you have to live for
these temptations are not real
only ghosts that you can feel
fight for your life
as the war begins
never surrender
and this too you can win
Erica C May 2018
never trust a poet's words
they sound sweet at first
but you'll notice the emotion in their words
it all sounds too...
fake
"i love you like the sea loves the shore"
becomes too scripted
you hear the small tinge of love actually left in their voice
hoping
hoping it could mean something
but it doesn't
it never does
it's just the way they say it
one day, after they have left
you will find their poems, and they will be the exact words that they had said to you
once long ago
please understand this poem is in a way just me talking to myself, reminding me to not trust a man who i once loved, thank you
Tom Spencer Dec 2018
drifting back to
sleep

listen
senses sharpen

an owl
sounds the darkness

distant
and then nearby

again
three muted hoots

pulses
from a hidden perch

where wide eyes
scan

for quivering
breath

in the shadows
undercover

ears wired
for wings


Tom Spencer © 2018
Ma Cherie Sep 2016
Speaking of broken hearts
and mended fenced in mem'ries  
I am painting skies
of tangerine, saffron
& an illuminated lilac hue
against the starkly contrasted crisp cornflower blue, stretching canvas that is
along with all the
other blindingly beautiful colors of a twilight sky

And those dripping cotton candy stratospheric clouds
Ice crystals freezing into supercooled
water droplets
Streaking the sky in cirrus whispers
..I hear them whisper, "hello"...

Blinding beauty
through unadulterated sunlight
I am fleeced like a lamb
watching in awe,
..in wonder
then stomping sounds
of coming thunder,

Finding depth and height
out  in the stratosphere
Blinded by the
After Light
or afterglow
affected by the amount of haze
I'm in a daze
...as I am reaching

High above the fading light
of a brilliant early fall sunset
I take a big breath
of that sumptuous air
and twirl my skirted legs
my painted toes
where I know
I am back
to solid ground

Appreciating the last time
I say sleep well
to you  my dear
summertimes sweet mem'ries
and the fun we had this year.

Cherie Nolan © 2016
Wow....idk. Felt inspired.
CK Baker Oct 2017
Iron bench, open sore
dragon rock, three in score
flesh on body, tortured soul
arms high, in ****'s hole

Corner bulb, neon light
drake hotel, second flight
jolly pop, rizla plus
open flame, behind the bus

Broken fixtures, tully hat
channel swimmer, at the bat
blind alley, words of cuss
dealer waving, in a fuss

Grim reaper, boys in blue
super bee, armored shrew
****** sips, swollen glands
potpourri, on demand

Black death, huddler's arch
beat the cold, and summer parch
toothless grin, ****** glare
obituary, to be shared

Dead of night, decontrol
cheeva tar, black coal
east central, chinatown
mr. freeze, is coming down

Foot soldier, skidder row
chicken feed, and white blow
silver spoon, casted hand
demons surface, on demand

Frantic sounds, below the glass
poison waiting, to be passed
***** pipes, over coat
bodies flat, begin to float

Gospel sounds, from union square
friends gather, deep in prayer
guardian angels, now deployed
thornton park, without a void

Covenant house, in holy charm
welcomes all, with open arms
salvation spreads, on chapel row
kindness that, cannot be sold
Eyes cast
Beautiful mind
Your energy and mine
Hearts beating fast
Lips locking
Body on mine
Your skin devouring
Deep in your flesh
Minds exploding
Dissolving in pleasure
An instrument to play
Delicious noises
Murmuring in my ear
Words with moarning
Art performing
................. Art performing
Fear no evil,
What you say is good, though you
sound like the Devil himself,
Speak no evil,
What I wanted to say was...
nevermind it, you'll always
see it your way,
We're all evil,
You're capable of so much, yet
choose harms way,
Was it always this way?
Were you always this bitter?
I doubt it, you don't need it,
some things are meant to break
and when they do... we follow,
Oh how we follow....
Or, maybe, we could step
into the light,
It cancells the dark....
And we are light again..
So light we could
            hover forever.
CK Baker Dec 2016
The napalan man in a violet cape  
descended the stair with a lopsided gait
a wretched procession; subscribers in cue
rattling off as they stream from the pew  

sounds and smells from a shadowy place
a catholic priest to gin up base
lanterns strung from bolted doors
cobbled streets and wooden floors  

stepping stones and iron bells
fortified by the citadel
hallowed halls and sepulcher
dragon cane for the horse drawn tour

castle turret,  archer holes
centaur scribed in chamber bowls
garden columns in courtyard view
the blood ballet and hullabaloo  

ancient tombs on warrior grounds
gods and saints who made their rounds
goliath still with battered scythe
knelt in prayer and mummified  

battle fires and crowds that roar
gallows, caves, abysmal war  
gargoyles flock the terrace *****
pearly gates to bring on hope  

serpents, snakes and burning ash
the lava bombs and trident clash
mariners drift in absentee
as neptune rises from the Tyrrhenian Sea
CK Baker Jan 2017
cedar planks line the dim lit hall
morning snow begins to fall
sepia print in a chip wood frame
embers spark from the franklin flame

rustling sounds from bunks below
records play in a tight alcove
bacon grills on the iron sheet
gloves are warmed by baseboard heat

bean bags tossed on colored ****
papka placed as a punching bag
red brick wall with mounted poles
windows filled with glacier bowls

whiskey jack on the southern rail
a frozen patch of wine and ale
pine cones fall in gathering white
brothers bathed in firelight

sleighs are on the table top
canyon road is at a stop
northern winds that bite the face
lines are up the gondola base

cornice clipped on gully goat
the rubber man appears to float
alpine depths are on the rise
peaking sun through parting skies

triple ropes and nordic luge
honored guests from baton rouge
gelande jumps on rainbow drive
nostalgia’s light and warm reply
MicMag Jul 2018
I've witnessed a beauty
I can't describe
That speaks to my soul
As it swims through my eyes
The silent sounds
Sneak into my mind
The taste lingers on
Leaving sweetness behind
The scent creeps up
To slowly remind
Of the touch that once felt
Makes all else fade
Til only your beauty
Pure beauty remains

There's nothing else
Your beauty remains
Old found poem.
Mak Jul 2014
i love you i love every breath you take i love every sound that escapes your lips as i kiss that spot between your jaw and neck i love the way your hands touch my skin, no rush, nothing to prove, nothing but pure love braiding itself within my heart and reassuring my mind i love the way your voice sounds in the morning when sleep is thick in your throat and your eyes are heavy

i
     love
              you
please
     please
              stay
Diana Sep 2018
I enjoy opening my window
At night
Not because I desire
The cool breeze to crawl
It's way across my
Hot
Sweaty
Sun-kissed
Skin
But because I desire
To hear the night
Spill its way across my room
And fill the air
With mystery
With life
I encourage you to listen to the night by opening your window before you sleep.
Ashley Chapman Jul 2018
Pressesd tenderly,
your carnal flower opens,
its butterfly released,
hovers like a hummingbird
drinking from the bill.

Oh, I too would steal you away
and cage you happily,
to get under your black-fringed skirt; 
to see that pretty dress,
fly off once more,
and see you bare;
burned now forever in my banks,
a first sight,
of dark curls!

As I think of it,
my desire stirs,
but of us
I have already masturbated twice:
jammed,
hips pinned,
sliding over our wet perspiring bellies,
in our jungle heat:
'cause in the firmament of our embrace
- it's hot -
where glued we **** into each other,
stoking flames,
until sleep,
when we disappear from each other.
My mind crowds,
with niggling neurotic inanities;
yours with manic dreams where bed-wetting criminals in cages beg to be freed,
before better spaces overtake.

When I awake,
I am lying next to you,  
Gwen over the horizon of your fertile valley,
a mountain,
white and reposed.
You,
murmuring desire for me.
****!
I can't wait to answer.

It is late,
late morning,
and we are all half asleep.
You have your back to me,
as we lie,
rubbing feet,
stroking hands,
(the oiled bulb at the end of a finger),
your fine shoulders,
(that delicate but persistent bone in your wrist that stretches with pointed elegance);
as quietly inside,  
(warmly enveloped),
my couched *****,  
rocks us:
each diffusing into the other
like the early morning brew.

**** and love,
closing-in,
which for a good while on edge had been:
the weeks,
days,
hours;
faint promises from afar;
sometimes a little closer,
our shadows in daylight cross,
as one over the other storms;
and once (or twice),
a sleeve brushes,
even better,
hair crackles,
as a speaking lip touches lobe,  
and for a moment,
taking in the other's scent,
a hint sublimely overpowers.

And these,
dearest of fancies,
are just some,
with which to ******* your mind,
as you have mine:
the energy of my yielding tenderness,
inviting you to complete me,
as I spread for you with desire.

Much later,
those daring looks you have,
the way you walk our stage:
your beautiful bone china face,
those quick-fire arousing eyes,
your sultry self-assuredness,
your pre-possessing self.

I could talk about your couple,
of generosity,
reaching up,
beyond mere comprehension:
of the fact that I like Gwen
(his love gift for you, me);
but actually,
in truth,
I prefer to take this moment to make love to you;
to say how wrapped I am,
folded in your limbs,
in our mingling sweat;
how with your joy,
you touch my desires,
into yours,
so they flow,
run rather:
honeysuckle from your blessed nymphae.

You love my smell,
you say,
and I dream of gathering you in pheromones,
of drugging you,
of intoxicating you,
so once again you will find me,
take me,
have me.
Entice you once more like a creature from its shell:
Come!
where I can ravish you,
all of you,
lay ***** to me,
flesh,
sinews,
everything,
your very bones;
those fine elbows,
those knees I would like to ******* over;
wash their smooth surfaces in my come:
from these cliff heights,
rain ***** on the rocks below.

To once more cast aside your socks and get at your toes,
to pour oil on 'em,
to rub and squeeze' em,
while in the moist cavern of your insides,
we ****,
half washed over by our own tide.
And as we do,
I quail,
speaking sweet nothings of appreciation;
from full lips,
your sounds return,
the hypnotic rhythm of your breath:
I engorge and in our labyrinth,
- the maiden and the bull -
we consume ourselves.

There,
Sweet Lentiform,
you did it,
you got me rolling in flesh,
******* after your intimate parts,
wanting you in bed as I know you must have me:
pulling me on you,
kissing and biting;
my arousal in your palm,
pops,
as you run a curved finger over my nethers.

Lying,
lying,
side-by-side,
lying prone,
lying ******,
never unconsumed,
because,
please,
please us,
with more;
so rarely,
unfucked even for a pause,
nothing doing more than sleeping and carousing;
our sustenance barely enough to keep us at it,
an occasional comic thrown in.
Oh,
God,
throw the ******* comic at me,
will you?
Beat my ******* flesh with it if you like.
Anything to see you standing in all your pearly ***** glory!

And if you can,
keep texting me,
so I can hang on your every word like a ******* puppy!
Beautiful
long-haired,
skin tight,
upright,
wise,
gorgeously wild,
woman ...
Now pull me by my **** into your **** -
where I love it best.
Next page