"swarmed" poems - Hello Poetry

i wanted to tell you i loved you, but the butterflies in my stomach swarmed my throat, and all the words got caught in their wings

0

Jul 5, 2015

Jul 5, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC

rainecooper

i wanted

i wanted to tell you i loved you, but the butterflies in my stomach swarmed my throat, and all the words got caught in their wings

2

What little sunshine being recognised Out of a storm flames approaching disorder Building vast contradictions without impediment Widespread in antiquity with alluring interpretations Constituting mutilated transformations whose opposing Lies stinking and fly swarmed, rotting at our feet

0

Jul 27, 2012

Jul 27, 2012 at 4:29 PM UTC

edgar-whitman-wilde

Democracy!!!!!!!!!!!

What little sunshine being recognised Out of a storm flames approaching disorder Building vast contradictions without impediment Widespread in antiquity with alluring interpretations Constituting mutilated transformations whose opposing Lies stinking and fly swarmed, rotting at our feet

6

I heard you blister You swarmed as the daylight broke Cross distant lands, tattered Tumultuous, flayed Burrowing deep into rot You’ve beaten the broken You’ve flayed the dead silence Into a gutter-mouthed cry Of humanities darkest Raging a storm So long You’ve swallowed hell and heaven whole Nothing is left anymore When you spit out the darkness You bare your soul And I can see Hate has swallowed you whole

0

Feb 28, 2014

Feb 28, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC

mitakiharashi

filter cruelty

I heard you blister You swarmed as the daylight broke Cross distant lands, tattered Tumultuous, flayed Burrowing deep into rot You’ve beaten the broken You’ve flayed the dead silence Into a gutter-mouthed cry Of humanities darkest Raging a storm So long You’ve swallowed hell and heaven whole Nothing is left anymore When you spit out the darkness You bare your soul And I can see Hate has swallowed you whole

17

Forests of coral adorn the rocky ocean floor, Sheltered here in this sky-blue lagoon. See the golden sand, shining through the still waters, Fringed by plumes of palm. The warming sun is smiling, Flanked by fluffy white clouds. Gulls are calling Over the whispering sea. A tropical paradise Punctuated only By impromptu showers. Those colourful corals Swarmed with teeming fish Of every hue. This is the place To be. Paul Butters

0

Jul 13, 2015

Jul 13, 2015 at 5:49 AM UTC

paul-butters

Coral Cove

Forests of coral adorn the rocky ocean floor, Sheltered here in this sky-blue lagoon. See the golden sand, shining through the still waters, Fringed by plumes of palm. The warming sun is smiling, Flanked by fluffy white clouds. Gulls are calling Over the whispering sea. A tropical paradise Punctuated only By impromptu showers. Those colourful corals Swarmed with teeming fish Of every hue. This is the place To be. Paul Butters

17

The boy haden't bathed in over a month His **** crack was itching and burning His underpants were soaked in slimy, wet muck And his toes a thick jam were churning His armpits stank worse than a fat pigs raw *** His breath smelled like rancid fish His hair was so oily, matted to his head His own mother wouldn't give him a kiss "Enough!" he cried as a passing fly died When he raised his arm to exclaim. "I must bathe right away! I am long overdue!" "I sure hope the washcloths are brave." "To the bathroom man!" He shouted as he ran And his underpants sloppily squished "I will remove this filth and brush my green teeth" "And my mother I will kiss!" "The closet's ahead!" He said as he sped. And he stopped there to get some stuff. Some soap, some shampoo and a towel or two. But he knew that it wasn't enough. Look though he might, to his horror and fright, Not a single washcloth could he find. Then panic set in 'cause the stink of his skin Was driving him out of his mind. He looked yet again but to his chagrin The washcloth shelf was bare. The washcloths had run off For they would not wash So filthy a boy on a dare "Oh what will I do!" "Boo-hoo, boo-hoo!" The boy cried as flies swarmed his head. "I'd **** myself but I already smell" "Far worse than anything dead!" Then one washcloth came back Holding it's nose and a sack Of bath salts that smelled like dill. It said to the boy "Go pickle yourself!" "And give me a nausea pill!" So the boy rejoiced and filled the tub With water, hot as he could stand. And using the bath salts, he jumped right in And the pickling began. He lathered the washcloth with water and soap And scrubbed with all of his might. Away he washed all of the filth 'Til none was left in sight. He washed his hair and brushed his teeth And dried and dressed himself well. And the washcloth exclaimed as it hung on the tub "Holy crap! that was pure hell!" So the boy now clean ran to be seen By his mother he loved so much. And she gave him a kiss and said "This is pure bliss!" "I can kiss you and keep down my lunch!" The moral I'll tell you and true I will be So no one will say that I lied. Don't wait a whole month to take a bath Or you washcloths may run and hide.

0

Aug 1, 2012

Aug 1, 2012 at 7:53 AM UTC

mike-west

The Stinky Boy

The boy haden't bathed in over a month His **** crack was itching and burning His underpants were soaked in slimy, wet muck And his toes a thick jam were churning His armpits stank worse than a fat pigs raw *** His breath smelled like rancid fish His hair was so oily, matted to his head His own mother wouldn't give him a kiss "Enough!" he cried as a passing fly died When he raised his arm to exclaim. "I must bathe right away! I am long overdue!" "I sure hope the washcloths are brave." "To the bathroom man!" He shouted as he ran And his underpants sloppily squished "I will remove this filth and brush my green teeth" "And my mother I will kiss!" "The closet's ahead!" He said as he sped. And he stopped there to get some stuff. Some soap, some shampoo and a towel or two. But he knew that it wasn't enough. Look though he might, to his horror and fright, Not a single washcloth could he find. Then panic set in 'cause the stink of his skin Was driving him out of his mind. He looked yet again but to his chagrin The washcloth shelf was bare. The washcloths had run off For they would not wash So filthy a boy on a dare "Oh what will I do!" "Boo-hoo, boo-hoo!" The boy cried as flies swarmed his head. "I'd **** myself but I already smell" "Far worse than anything dead!" Then one washcloth came back Holding it's nose and a sack Of bath salts that smelled like dill. It said to the boy "Go pickle yourself!" "And give me a nausea pill!" So the boy rejoiced and filled the tub With water, hot as he could stand. And using the bath salts, he jumped right in And the pickling began. He lathered the washcloth with water and soap And scrubbed with all of his might. Away he washed all of the filth 'Til none was left in sight. He washed his hair and brushed his teeth And dried and dressed himself well. And the washcloth exclaimed as it hung on the tub "Holy crap! that was pure hell!" So the boy now clean ran to be seen By his mother he loved so much. And she gave him a kiss and said "This is pure bliss!" "I can kiss you and keep down my lunch!" The moral I'll tell you and true I will be So no one will say that I lied. Don't wait a whole month to take a bath Or you washcloths may run and hide.

58

Trauma Blunt force trauma a blow to my psyche from your hammer of hands who pounded into my mind making me fear your preconceived ideas of my undying faith to your never ever loving thoughts about my, then, innocence. so many times- Time How many times did I trust the snake who hung, from the oh sweet forbidden fruit who's aftertaste bit me every time? Who's deep rooted poison made me a pile of decaying flash, leaving me with a smell that drew all vultures to my feet. Vultures Every ******* one swarmed my flesh, biting, marking me with their jagged teeth that covered the tip of every finger, that kept the skin bloodied and bright red for identification. ID The ID of the body I see in the mirror, Jane Doe to myself, and target to the man who mangled my soul even more that it's vessel. Who's voice rattled my bones and hands cracked the chest casing under my already blue and pruple skin he kissed with his knuckles just- Just enough. Enough Enough of me he became and the red of my skin was no longer his favorite and I longed for my red to change hue and I checked its tone when I dipped into the rivers beneath my skin and all I did was make myself a prisoner to the body I painted different ****** shades to make him want me. But my red turned fall and I was no longer a color he could see, but a place he had never been and my characteristics were as mysterious as the reasons I thought I deserved red. Red Blunt Force Trauma

0

Mar 31, 2015

Mar 31, 2015 at 7:36 AM UTC

jacquelyn-audrey-whiston

Trauma

Trauma Blunt force trauma a blow to my psyche from your hammer of hands who pounded into my mind making me fear your preconceived ideas of my undying faith to your never ever loving thoughts about my, then, innocence. so many times- Time How many times did I trust the snake who hung, from the oh sweet forbidden fruit who's aftertaste bit me every time? Who's deep rooted poison made me a pile of decaying flash, leaving me with a smell that drew all vultures to my feet. Vultures Every ******* one swarmed my flesh, biting, marking me with their jagged teeth that covered the tip of every finger, that kept the skin bloodied and bright red for identification. ID The ID of the body I see in the mirror, Jane Doe to myself, and target to the man who mangled my soul even more that it's vessel. Who's voice rattled my bones and hands cracked the chest casing under my already blue and pruple skin he kissed with his knuckles just- Just enough. Enough Enough of me he became and the red of my skin was no longer his favorite and I longed for my red to change hue and I checked its tone when I dipped into the rivers beneath my skin and all I did was make myself a prisoner to the body I painted different ****** shades to make him want me. But my red turned fall and I was no longer a color he could see, but a place he had never been and my characteristics were as mysterious as the reasons I thought I deserved red. Red Blunt Force Trauma

16

I want to live life in a Bob Ross painting With serene monstrous mountains far off in the distance The peak half covered by happy little clouds A happy little tree and it’s many brothers and sisters Blanketing the landscape of light snowfall and growing bushes A small cabin bathed in melting snow rests comfortably Next to a thawing private lake lit by a cadmium yellow sun This is where I want to live Swarmed in colors of titanium white, Phthalo green and blue, Midnight black, Alizarin crimson, And Indian yellow Where there are no mistakes Only happy accidents Where the big decisions And the tests of courage are Where the next tree will go In a Bob Ross painting I could live peacefully

0

Mar 29, 2012

Mar 29, 2012 at 5:37 PM UTC

TonguesOfOthers

I Want To Live My Life In A Bob Ross Painting

I want to live life in a Bob Ross painting With serene monstrous mountains far off in the distance The peak half covered by happy little clouds A happy little tree and it’s many brothers and sisters Blanketing the landscape of light snowfall and growing bushes A small cabin bathed in melting snow rests comfortably Next to a thawing private lake lit by a cadmium yellow sun This is where I want to live Swarmed in colors of titanium white, Phthalo green and blue, Midnight black, Alizarin crimson, And Indian yellow Where there are no mistakes Only happy accidents Where the big decisions And the tests of courage are Where the next tree will go In a Bob Ross painting I could live peacefully

20

Words, words, worms! My mind is swarmed With them. Ants file in through the sticky Canals, chattering, stamping their little black feet. They use me. I am their harboring medium, A visitor in my own head. Black, empty mouths flutter and dance and signal Amongst themselves, crowding my skull, A murmuration of phrases and guttural sounds. I mustn't tell fully what they say. They draw forth black and bubbling swamps, Wicked crows, the yawping millions, pecking, Pecking, gouging with yammering beaks At every smooth, young innocent. There is death in this tumult of words. Let it not take me.

0

Mar 27, 2018

Mar 27, 2018 at 10:14 PM UTC

NatSmith

Strange Whispers

Words, words, worms! My mind is swarmed With them. Ants file in through the sticky Canals, chattering, stamping their little black feet. They use me. I am their harboring medium, A visitor in my own head. Black, empty mouths flutter and dance and signal Amongst themselves, crowding my skull, A murmuration of phrases and guttural sounds. I mustn't tell fully what they say. They draw forth black and bubbling swamps, Wicked crows, the yawping millions, pecking, Pecking, gouging with yammering beaks At every smooth, young innocent. There is death in this tumult of words. Let it not take me.

15

fury, winds raged the treetops threshing branches, approaching brush. but from a distance, natural destruction, looked like beauty in the forest. and this was just a piece. this is not the whole. inhale, exhale, increasing repetitions repeat, repeat. decrease and deepen. pause in awe of the machine you're given watch the forest faint, beatific ruin. feel the fibers tear in effort feel the area inside you swell this is just a piece this is not the whole. process unto another day with brighter light and seasoned winds as repeated swells exhale an ending breath gawk, inhale, hold, process, yawp; repeat. understand this thing, know it truly die through effort, repeat, repeat. beaks with feathered wings swarmed in silence Persephone cheers with distance, "defy their gravity" here; pause; absorb the leaded revolution weigh inside this mockery of death "this is just a piece, this is not the whole." abandon seated distance, chase with fire the unknown of the unfolding. ravenously consume the untouchable time feed, inhale, pause, process, exhale, deepen repeat, repeat; endlessly repeat. this is just a piece, this is not the whole.

0

May 7, 2017

May 7, 2017 at 2:29 PM UTC

fern

The Weight and Distance of Persephone

fury, winds raged the treetops threshing branches, approaching brush. but from a distance, natural destruction, looked like beauty in the forest. and this was just a piece. this is not the whole. inhale, exhale, increasing repetitions repeat, repeat. decrease and deepen. pause in awe of the machine you're given watch the forest faint, beatific ruin. feel the fibers tear in effort feel the area inside you swell this is just a piece this is not the whole. process unto another day with brighter light and seasoned winds as repeated swells exhale an ending breath gawk, inhale, hold, process, yawp; repeat. understand this thing, know it truly die through effort, repeat, repeat. beaks with feathered wings swarmed in silence Persephone cheers with distance, "defy their gravity" here; pause; absorb the leaded revolution weigh inside this mockery of death "this is just a piece, this is not the whole." abandon seated distance, chase with fire the unknown of the unfolding. ravenously consume the untouchable time feed, inhale, pause, process, exhale, deepen repeat, repeat; endlessly repeat. this is just a piece, this is not the whole.

36

It faces west, and round the back and sides High beeches, bending, hang a veil of boughs, And sweep against the roof. Wild honeysucks Climb on the walls, and seem to sprout a wish (If we may fancy wish of trees and plants) To overtop the apple trees hard-by. Red roses, lilacs, variegated box Are there in plenty, and such hardy flowers As flourish best untrained. Adjoining these Are herbs and esculents; and farther still A field; then cottages with trees, and last The distant hills and sky. Behind, the scene is wilder. Heath and furze Are everything that seems to grow and thrive Upon the uneven ground. A stunted thorn Stands here and there, indeed; and from a pit An oak uprises, Springing from a seed Dropped by some bird a hundred years ago. In days bygone— Long gone—my father’s mother, who is now Blest with the blest, would take me out to walk. At such a time I once inquired of her How looked the spot when first she settled here. The answer I remember. ‘Fifty years Have passed since then, my child, and change has marked The face of all things. Yonder garden-plots And orchards were uncultivated slopes O’ergrown with bramble bushes, furze and thorn: That road a narrow path shut in by ferns, Which, almost trees, obscured the passers-by. Our house stood quite alone, and those tall firs And beeches were not planted. Snakes and efts Swarmed in the summer days, and nightly bats Would fly about our bedrooms. Heathcroppers Lived on the hills, and were our only friends; So wild it was when we first settled here.’

0

2.4k

Thomas Hardy

Domicilium

It faces west, and round the back and sides High beeches, bending, hang a veil of boughs, And sweep against the roof. Wild honeysucks Climb on the walls, and seem to sprout a wish (If we may fancy wish of trees and plants) To overtop the apple trees hard-by. Red roses, lilacs, variegated box Are there in plenty, and such hardy flowers As flourish best untrained. Adjoining these Are herbs and esculents; and farther still A field; then cottages with trees, and last The distant hills and sky. Behind, the scene is wilder. Heath and furze Are everything that seems to grow and thrive Upon the uneven ground. A stunted thorn Stands here and there, indeed; and from a pit An oak uprises, Springing from a seed Dropped by some bird a hundred years ago. In days bygone— Long gone—my father’s mother, who is now Blest with the blest, would take me out to walk. At such a time I once inquired of her How looked the spot when first she settled here. The answer I remember. ‘Fifty years Have passed since then, my child, and change has marked The face of all things. Yonder garden-plots And orchards were uncultivated slopes O’ergrown with bramble bushes, furze and thorn: That road a narrow path shut in by ferns, Which, almost trees, obscured the passers-by. Our house stood quite alone, and those tall firs And beeches were not planted. Snakes and efts Swarmed in the summer days, and nightly bats Would fly about our bedrooms. Heathcroppers Lived on the hills, and were our only friends; So wild it was when we first settled here.’

36

*A lone tree, in all its glory stands in the courtyard of my heart; evergreen all these years, proud of its songs heard as green waves nourished by the sun in my sky. Without that tree, I can't be a comely girl once came there for an ecstatic dance, then sat below its shade with a smile all through a day and night then in the courtyard of my heart she became a constant presence. The wind's tunes sung paeans to her, the verdant courtyard was filled with sun and songs; the tree's first spring it was. A long season of flowering followed, pink and white blossoms with heavenly scent was abundant all through the year on the tree's crown. Like a moving cloud, honeybees swarmed around singing songs of love, joy of communion fallowed by the pain of parting, the season of fragrant blooms soon came to an end and with that she too left, telling me that I'll be her true love always whatever happens to us, In that tree, the witness of our love she tied an invisible ribbon that bound us too tough to get loose, that embraced me whenever wind played with it, I and she were mere shells presence of love, alive in the precincts, of the tree that makes me alive, now and for ever.*

0

Dec 21, 2013

Dec 21, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC

k-balachandran

A lone tree stands in the courtyard of my heart

*A lone tree, in all its glory stands in the courtyard of my heart; evergreen all these years, proud of its songs heard as green waves nourished by the sun in my sky. Without that tree, I can't be a comely girl once came there for an ecstatic dance, then sat below its shade with a smile all through a day and night then in the courtyard of my heart she became a constant presence. The wind's tunes sung paeans to her, the verdant courtyard was filled with sun and songs; the tree's first spring it was. A long season of flowering followed, pink and white blossoms with heavenly scent was abundant all through the year on the tree's crown. Like a moving cloud, honeybees swarmed around singing songs of love, joy of communion fallowed by the pain of parting, the season of fragrant blooms soon came to an end and with that she too left, telling me that I'll be her true love always whatever happens to us, In that tree, the witness of our love she tied an invisible ribbon that bound us too tough to get loose, that embraced me whenever wind played with it, I and she were mere shells presence of love, alive in the precincts, of the tree that makes me alive, now and for ever.*

33

"No. No you absolutely can not go to the store to buy some beer you! you are too young just stay inside and watch some TV beer is for losers no go and make your dad another G&T; during the commercial break" Feeling thirsty? Want to be liked and respected? want to be fun? life of the party? want to be swarmed by a slew of half naked vaginas with legs? then get yourself a Bud "Why can't you be happy with what you have? you know we never had much growing up and look at us now a pair of reasonably comfortable adults don't you want to be reasonably comfortable? can't you just be yourself?" Hey you! Yeah you! what the hell are you just sitting there for? It's a Friday night why aren't you out partying? no invitation. **** Wait I know why - What's that you are wearing? you don't know!? you need some Polo and some Nike, just do it throw in some brooks brothers don't you want people to think better of you don't be THAT guy in cargo shorts unless you like ************ alone at night and here's some Beats by Dre headphones so you can hear us better Now I no it's pricey, but don't you want to be happy? we've got your happiness right here and it will only cost you your parents' credit card "We just don't know what's wrong with you why are you in such a rut? get out of bed, go and do something we got you what you asked for why can't you be satisfied? a lenovo 2 in 1? what the hell is a Lenovo 2 in 1? A laptop and a tablet? Why? Oh, you just have to have one well I'm sorry, but money has been tight maybe you should get a job your birthday is right around the corner..." Look at this cool guy Look at how great his life is you want this. We know you do what you'll need is some more swag just a little bit and some cough syrup, expensive liquor and some *** plus you'll want some ******* how else can you party this hard? Maybe get a gun, or a knife no. Definitely get a gun. A big one that way nobody will say anything to **** your buzz carry that big stick and walk tall cool dude oh yeah, here's a secret for you keep it to yourself alright? women really like being treated like **** we told them to "What's that? a gun? For what? oh so now you're going to **** yourself? well I'm sorry but we don't do that in this family you'll just have to be ground into submission like everybody else what makes you so special, huh? why do you get to punch out early shut up, keep your head down, do your job, buy some **** have a family then get your kids started with all the **** you buy. brand name baby clothes and such. now be a good boy and pay your taxes but shush, the TV is on"

0

Jan 3, 2014

Jan 3, 2014 at 10:00 PM UTC

harry-j-baxter

Smells like Hypocrisy

"No. No you absolutely can not go to the store to buy some beer you! you are too young just stay inside and watch some TV beer is for losers no go and make your dad another G&T; during the commercial break" Feeling thirsty? Want to be liked and respected? want to be fun? life of the party? want to be swarmed by a slew of half naked vaginas with legs? then get yourself a Bud "Why can't you be happy with what you have? you know we never had much growing up and look at us now a pair of reasonably comfortable adults don't you want to be reasonably comfortable? can't you just be yourself?" Hey you! Yeah you! what the hell are you just sitting there for? It's a Friday night why aren't you out partying? no invitation. **** Wait I know why - What's that you are wearing? you don't know!? you need some Polo and some Nike, just do it throw in some brooks brothers don't you want people to think better of you don't be THAT guy in cargo shorts unless you like ************ alone at night and here's some Beats by Dre headphones so you can hear us better Now I no it's pricey, but don't you want to be happy? we've got your happiness right here and it will only cost you your parents' credit card "We just don't know what's wrong with you why are you in such a rut? get out of bed, go and do something we got you what you asked for why can't you be satisfied? a lenovo 2 in 1? what the hell is a Lenovo 2 in 1? A laptop and a tablet? Why? Oh, you just have to have one well I'm sorry, but money has been tight maybe you should get a job your birthday is right around the corner..." Look at this cool guy Look at how great his life is you want this. We know you do what you'll need is some more swag just a little bit and some cough syrup, expensive liquor and some *** plus you'll want some ******* how else can you party this hard? Maybe get a gun, or a knife no. Definitely get a gun. A big one that way nobody will say anything to **** your buzz carry that big stick and walk tall cool dude oh yeah, here's a secret for you keep it to yourself alright? women really like being treated like **** we told them to "What's that? a gun? For what? oh so now you're going to **** yourself? well I'm sorry but we don't do that in this family you'll just have to be ground into submission like everybody else what makes you so special, huh? why do you get to punch out early shut up, keep your head down, do your job, buy some **** have a family then get your kids started with all the **** you buy. brand name baby clothes and such. now be a good boy and pay your taxes but shush, the TV is on"

79

i must be some sort of permanently exhausted pigeon; claws clinging to the telephone wire drearily blinking my way through the morning meeting of the aerial acrobatic society. i am a seagull swarmed amongst the chirpy conjecture of these early birds; and my soul caws an honesty, a wail, a howl, the truth. i am a tainted swan grittily paddling myself through the marsh we call this world, a lone observer of the acrobats, the stickiness of my feet keeping me flightless. and you are a swallow; redbull wings migrate you to warmer climates. you hear the seagulls but listen to the pigeons. you notice the swan but her murky shallows are too icy for your liking. and you are a chicken; blind beyond your own free-range vicinity. you catch the pigeons as jet planes, and the seagull's whisper is alien. you don't know miss swan.

0

Nov 24, 2016

Nov 24, 2016 at 8:02 AM UTC

jaanamj

beaker

i must be some sort of permanently exhausted pigeon; claws clinging to the telephone wire drearily blinking my way through the morning meeting of the aerial acrobatic society. i am a seagull swarmed amongst the chirpy conjecture of these early birds; and my soul caws an honesty, a wail, a howl, the truth. i am a tainted swan grittily paddling myself through the marsh we call this world, a lone observer of the acrobats, the stickiness of my feet keeping me flightless. and you are a swallow; redbull wings migrate you to warmer climates. you hear the seagulls but listen to the pigeons. you notice the swan but her murky shallows are too icy for your liking. and you are a chicken; blind beyond your own free-range vicinity. you catch the pigeons as jet planes, and the seagull's whisper is alien. you don't know miss swan.

27

Eucalyptus filled air Sheets of warm and cold air Early tasmac drinkers Weary eyed dads Bye bye -ing mommies Dung splattering cows whipped pedigree dogs Scared insects Proud birds Flowers with an attitude The pig A hero Swarmed stinking Dirtiest of them all And a early morning feast Charming brown eyed street dogs Question marked trees Washed pavements Drooling men Betel chewing glaring women Girls in floral blouses sweeping Sh -sh -sh -sh -sh Autos rrrrrr Shock absorbing nike shoes krr krr krrr krr A cigarette **** A sad memory Pushed aside By the brush of a hand pushed to a remote corner Hidden another memory a recent one with a scaredy cat Which i want to share and party with Was vivid Ornamented ladies lighting lamps to a dead god Guarded by vain priests Obesience and giving life for people Lost in hope and fear A parallel existence Corporates blaring into phones Fit men playing tennis Small sturdy grass Petite flowers Swaying and dancing Everlasting Everlasting ? Is it a will or maybe or a should be ?

0

Jan 14, 2015

Jan 14, 2015 at 1:58 AM UTC

sheeba-balan-kpp

A WALK

Eucalyptus filled air Sheets of warm and cold air Early tasmac drinkers Weary eyed dads Bye bye -ing mommies Dung splattering cows whipped pedigree dogs Scared insects Proud birds Flowers with an attitude The pig A hero Swarmed stinking Dirtiest of them all And a early morning feast Charming brown eyed street dogs Question marked trees Washed pavements Drooling men Betel chewing glaring women Girls in floral blouses sweeping Sh -sh -sh -sh -sh Autos rrrrrr Shock absorbing nike shoes krr krr krrr krr A cigarette **** A sad memory Pushed aside By the brush of a hand pushed to a remote corner Hidden another memory a recent one with a scaredy cat Which i want to share and party with Was vivid Ornamented ladies lighting lamps to a dead god Guarded by vain priests Obesience and giving life for people Lost in hope and fear A parallel existence Corporates blaring into phones Fit men playing tennis Small sturdy grass Petite flowers Swaying and dancing Everlasting Everlasting ? Is it a will or maybe or a should be ?

51

(Tr)aveling w(i)th the younger I With her on your back She gazed at intricate diamonds of the dark. Never facing an ounce of (um)brage. With age, her knowledge flourished Growing from the water of your trunk Her brain was nourished with ex(p)erience Following in your trail Strengthening over time She (ha)d no i(nt)erest on your back Nor the night sky Rather clouds and the outside Away sh(E) wa(l)ked from your shadow With your trunk raised high Lions and crocodiles swarmed her on s(e)a and land With no trunk or tusk Adrenaline rushed She shook in nerves til dusk Continuing days with no shade Skin cells accepting harsh sun rays With the storm of your stom(p)s She awaited your presence (h)yen(a)s laughed as you came Splattering blood on your name You laid with your wheel As she wailed with no trunk She wept For you sculpted her i(nt)o who (s)he was Long, Long down the road. Buying from an old bookstore Finding a binder filled with the Royal Animals Turning the first sheet She noticed a stamp Reminding her of her stuffed friends Triumphant Elephants

0

Feb 1, 2017

Feb 1, 2017 at 12:37 PM UTC

cheyenne-yacono

Triumphant Elephants

(Tr)aveling w(i)th the younger I With her on your back She gazed at intricate diamonds of the dark. Never facing an ounce of (um)brage. With age, her knowledge flourished Growing from the water of your trunk Her brain was nourished with ex(p)erience Following in your trail Strengthening over time She (ha)d no i(nt)erest on your back Nor the night sky Rather clouds and the outside Away sh(E) wa(l)ked from your shadow With your trunk raised high Lions and crocodiles swarmed her on s(e)a and land With no trunk or tusk Adrenaline rushed She shook in nerves til dusk Continuing days with no shade Skin cells accepting harsh sun rays With the storm of your stom(p)s She awaited your presence (h)yen(a)s laughed as you came Splattering blood on your name You laid with your wheel As she wailed with no trunk She wept For you sculpted her i(nt)o who (s)he was Long, Long down the road. Buying from an old bookstore Finding a binder filled with the Royal Animals Turning the first sheet She noticed a stamp Reminding her of her stuffed friends Triumphant Elephants

35

Someone call the Doctor, because something’s amiss. The darkness descended, and there’s just the abyss. Tell him, that maybe, a paradox formed. That up, is now right, and that demons have swarmed. Tell him, please tell him, that we need the blue box. We need his courage, to turn back the clock. I know the moment, the exact time it went wrong, but I can’t do it alone, I’ve done that too long. If we just had the Doctor, we could set things to right. We could change that moment, and bring back the light. I know he’s not coming, and that he’s not real. It’s just wishful writing, to push back my fears. A hero, a savior, someone who knows all. Someone who isn’t me, that could stop the slow fall. A blue box, a Doctor, a moment in time. A villain, so empty, writing silly rhymes. A paradox, truly, that doesn’t make sense. Can a villain turn hero, if he shows recompense? I guess we shall see, but I won’t hold my breath. I’ll wait for the Doctor, or I’ll just wait for Death.

0

Aug 25, 2018

Aug 25, 2018 at 3:42 PM UTC

Jacktorrance

Someone call the Doctor

Someone call the Doctor, because something’s amiss. The darkness descended, and there’s just the abyss. Tell him, that maybe, a paradox formed. That up, is now right, and that demons have swarmed. Tell him, please tell him, that we need the blue box. We need his courage, to turn back the clock. I know the moment, the exact time it went wrong, but I can’t do it alone, I’ve done that too long. If we just had the Doctor, we could set things to right. We could change that moment, and bring back the light. I know he’s not coming, and that he’s not real. It’s just wishful writing, to push back my fears. A hero, a savior, someone who knows all. Someone who isn’t me, that could stop the slow fall. A blue box, a Doctor, a moment in time. A villain, so empty, writing silly rhymes. A paradox, truly, that doesn’t make sense. Can a villain turn hero, if he shows recompense? I guess we shall see, but I won’t hold my breath. I’ll wait for the Doctor, or I’ll just wait for Death.

40

Perusing through the earth brown in your eyes Your abysmal feelings lurk underneath your placid disguise You gaze back into mine and plaster on your best smitten smirk All I want to do is quell your inner demons with a kissing berserk But like a whisper, I cant place my finger on it Whatever is making your insides feel so unfit Let me caress to suppress all your body's ****** distress Just crack open Escape that inner dystopian The superfluous light in my soul wants to spill in so that destructive darkness can dissipate into fin Fill in your void I implore,"don't feel destroyed" My heart's warmest sentiments Dance with your mouth's jubilant upward movements Im swarmed by the rosy love you cast on to me like a spell I wish too that you have this frenzy feelings of fantastic to dwell I beseech you To save you is my virtue You're one of the few Whom I see in my future... 'tis true

0

Dec 6, 2018

Dec 6, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC

abigail-del-fierro

Truths

Perusing through the earth brown in your eyes Your abysmal feelings lurk underneath your placid disguise You gaze back into mine and plaster on your best smitten smirk All I want to do is quell your inner demons with a kissing berserk But like a whisper, I cant place my finger on it Whatever is making your insides feel so unfit Let me caress to suppress all your body's ****** distress Just crack open Escape that inner dystopian The superfluous light in my soul wants to spill in so that destructive darkness can dissipate into fin Fill in your void I implore,"don't feel destroyed" My heart's warmest sentiments Dance with your mouth's jubilant upward movements Im swarmed by the rosy love you cast on to me like a spell I wish too that you have this frenzy feelings of fantastic to dwell I beseech you To save you is my virtue You're one of the few Whom I see in my future... 'tis true

22

I PAINTED on the roof of a skyscraper. I painted a long while and called it a day's work. The people on a corner swarmed and the traffic cop's whistle never let up all afternoon. They were the same as bugs, many bugs on their way- Those people on the go or at a standstill; And the traffic cop a spot of blue, a splinter of brass, Where the black tides ran around him And he kept the street. I painted a long while And called it a day's work.

0

1.8k

Carl Sandburg

People Who Must

I PAINTED on the roof of a skyscraper. I painted a long while and called it a day's work. The people on a corner swarmed and the traffic cop's whistle never let up all afternoon. They were the same as bugs, many bugs on their way- Those people on the go or at a standstill; And the traffic cop a spot of blue, a splinter of brass, Where the black tides ran around him And he kept the street. I painted a long while And called it a day's work.

9

May 2013 Memorial day weekend It was warm with promises of sun Beautiful blue skies And no cloud in sight Seattle prepared for crowds People swarming the Center For folk music, food Laughter and smiles shining bright My leg, a bright red I woke up Burning hot with red seeping up my leg Pain swarmed my back Tears gathering In corners of my eyes As I was admitted To the emergency room Greeted with morphine, leaving me in a haze *** induced haze Lingering around the fountain Families occupied the edge Children running in and out Collecting droplets of water Along with sunburns While groups of friends Gathering in drum circles Slow rhythmic thumping could be heard for miles My son’s heartbeat Thumped in my ears I watched the fear As he focused on the antibiotic drips Invading my body The days in clipped moments Passing in and out With each wave of fever And the doctors Tattooed my leg with sharpie Artwork was only one thing Found in the vendor alley People flooded the booths Snatching up Brightly colored creations As they headed to find Dance troupes, bollywood Inspired activities With stomping feet, swaying arms They placed the central line Into my right arm My body had clogged each IV the doctors warned me If the redness started To show patterns of serrating Then they would have to take my leg Diazepam had me slurring out I am fine, I am fine Memorial Day A time of remembrance Services to be held Events to commemorate All the fallen From a concert at Museum of Flight To baseball game with Seattle Mariners To appreciate, appreciate It took ten days For me to be released May 2013, Memorial Day weekend I would always remember As the beginning Of my growing struggle With gradual loss of mobility I am fine, I am fine

0

Nov 12, 2020

Nov 12, 2020 at 12:03 AM UTC

brinemcallister

May 2013

May 2013 Memorial day weekend It was warm with promises of sun Beautiful blue skies And no cloud in sight Seattle prepared for crowds People swarming the Center For folk music, food Laughter and smiles shining bright My leg, a bright red I woke up Burning hot with red seeping up my leg Pain swarmed my back Tears gathering In corners of my eyes As I was admitted To the emergency room Greeted with morphine, leaving me in a haze *** induced haze Lingering around the fountain Families occupied the edge Children running in and out Collecting droplets of water Along with sunburns While groups of friends Gathering in drum circles Slow rhythmic thumping could be heard for miles My son’s heartbeat Thumped in my ears I watched the fear As he focused on the antibiotic drips Invading my body The days in clipped moments Passing in and out With each wave of fever And the doctors Tattooed my leg with sharpie Artwork was only one thing Found in the vendor alley People flooded the booths Snatching up Brightly colored creations As they headed to find Dance troupes, bollywood Inspired activities With stomping feet, swaying arms They placed the central line Into my right arm My body had clogged each IV the doctors warned me If the redness started To show patterns of serrating Then they would have to take my leg Diazepam had me slurring out I am fine, I am fine Memorial Day A time of remembrance Services to be held Events to commemorate All the fallen From a concert at Museum of Flight To baseball game with Seattle Mariners To appreciate, appreciate It took ten days For me to be released May 2013, Memorial Day weekend I would always remember As the beginning Of my growing struggle With gradual loss of mobility I am fine, I am fine

71

Open up, Eyes I've given you the prize to see again. Darkness. Let me feel you with my fingertips Okay good, but dear doesn't anyone have a light in here? Darkness Get up, feel around. This place seems familiar. Look up, look down Figures become linear Darkness Click! There it is. Man, I should have cleaned the place Oh, and everything is just where I left it Great! Rusty orange, forest green Common colors that I'm used to seeing. Look to my left Bingo! There's John, Paul, George, and Ringo Take a step creak creak creak Floorboards never cease to make a squeak Open the door, what do you see? So much more than before I went to sleep. Darkness What's that there? Medicare? The UNITED states? What is this place? So much for us coming together. I wonder if it had not been better if I had slept forever? Darkness Change is constant. Diamonds are litter. The warm and sweet now cold and bitter. Streets swarmed with people wearing collars of blue, wait a minute.. Our president is black too? Darkness Hollowed eyes, Songs without melody Selfish men disguised as hearts with harmony. Arrogance, ignorance Obliviousness, incompetence In this future I shall only reminisce. Oh, what did I miss? Darkness Slaving like slaves, working like elves. This is not what I wished before 2012. It's the end of evolution but lets find a substitution! Oh won't anyone help me look? No even a trace? Not even a sprinkle? I'm living the life of Rip Van winkle. Darkness Man oh man, nothing's changed And i used to think ****** was deranged. So much for coming together. I wonder if it had not been better if I had slept forever?

0

Feb 23, 2012

Feb 23, 2012 at 9:31 PM UTC

taylor-marion

Mrs. Rip Van Winkle

Open up, Eyes I've given you the prize to see again. Darkness. Let me feel you with my fingertips Okay good, but dear doesn't anyone have a light in here? Darkness Get up, feel around. This place seems familiar. Look up, look down Figures become linear Darkness Click! There it is. Man, I should have cleaned the place Oh, and everything is just where I left it Great! Rusty orange, forest green Common colors that I'm used to seeing. Look to my left Bingo! There's John, Paul, George, and Ringo Take a step creak creak creak Floorboards never cease to make a squeak Open the door, what do you see? So much more than before I went to sleep. Darkness What's that there? Medicare? The UNITED states? What is this place? So much for us coming together. I wonder if it had not been better if I had slept forever? Darkness Change is constant. Diamonds are litter. The warm and sweet now cold and bitter. Streets swarmed with people wearing collars of blue, wait a minute.. Our president is black too? Darkness Hollowed eyes, Songs without melody Selfish men disguised as hearts with harmony. Arrogance, ignorance Obliviousness, incompetence In this future I shall only reminisce. Oh, what did I miss? Darkness Slaving like slaves, working like elves. This is not what I wished before 2012. It's the end of evolution but lets find a substitution! Oh won't anyone help me look? No even a trace? Not even a sprinkle? I'm living the life of Rip Van winkle. Darkness Man oh man, nothing's changed And i used to think ****** was deranged. So much for coming together. I wonder if it had not been better if I had slept forever?

82

down the Valley where the river flows flocks of graves swarmed with crows ashes to ashes turn dust to dust where their metals lei and turned to rust stenches of blood screams and decay where wasted sheds are left astray down the Valley where the river flows are plumps of graves where flowers grow

0

Aug 29, 2018

Aug 29, 2018 at 11:17 AM UTC

Simone13

Vale

down the Valley where the river flows flocks of graves swarmed with crows ashes to ashes turn dust to dust where their metals lei and turned to rust stenches of blood screams and decay where wasted sheds are left astray down the Valley where the river flows are plumps of graves where flowers grow

16

Two minutes. Waiting. My heart is ready to burst. The lanes are naked, clean, ready to be torn up by cleats and sweat. Hundreds of eyes blinking and staring. Chatter swarmed into a calm storm underneath this dome. Waiting is the hardest part. The anticipation, building. Struggling to breathe as I strategize. Faster here. Ease up here. Go for the **** Take him. A vision. It’s almost time. Everything is clenched. Find my control. Don’t go out too fast, find your stride. Tail the leader. Wait for the moment. Step up onto the lanes. Red and white. My teammates looking on. The stakes digging into my Stomach. Step up to your blocks. My heart beats faster. I want to throw up. This is it. On your mark. My ankles shiver. Adrenaline at full throttle. I can’t lose. I can’t lose. Go.

0

May 23, 2011

May 23, 2011 at 7:46 AM UTC

jett-wells

Waiting for the Gun

Two minutes. Waiting. My heart is ready to burst. The lanes are naked, clean, ready to be torn up by cleats and sweat. Hundreds of eyes blinking and staring. Chatter swarmed into a calm storm underneath this dome. Waiting is the hardest part. The anticipation, building. Struggling to breathe as I strategize. Faster here. Ease up here. Go for the **** Take him. A vision. It’s almost time. Everything is clenched. Find my control. Don’t go out too fast, find your stride. Tail the leader. Wait for the moment. Step up onto the lanes. Red and white. My teammates looking on. The stakes digging into my Stomach. Step up to your blocks. My heart beats faster. I want to throw up. This is it. On your mark. My ankles shiver. Adrenaline at full throttle. I can’t lose. I can’t lose. Go.

36

The old man sighed and jammed his freshly rolled, freshly lit cigarette into the ash tray. "Too many cigarettes before bedtime oft' keep an' old man like me up all night." The young man put out his cigarette as well, gently weeping inside over the wasted tobacco. "Aye, a youngin' like myself as well." The conversation had been going slightly south ever since the young man made the mistake of asking about his counterparts first wife. "She died," he had said "One of them December o' 2012 suicides that plagued the big cities such as this." The young man remembered how he had looked out the window at this point a bit too nostalgically. "She was crazy," he had added "I knew it the day I slipped the ring on and I know it now." They dropped the subject and began talking about The War, coincidentally another touchy subject. "Most of my friends died, and if you've read your history books you know it was not courage or chivalry that killed them but the ignorance and fear that our country breathed when drafting all the young men." He had escaped with his life, which he believed was garbage. he told of how he had hid in the sewers while the long thought peaceful Canadian's swarmed over the East coast. While his friends died he ate rats. While the war machine chugged he was cowering. "Aye, I see how you looked at that stoke, though." "Pardon?" The young man had been deep in thought of the conversation they had been having. "How old are you anyway?" "19 on the 9th." "And still not a whisker on your chin, aye?" "Aye." He told of many more battles. Some he fought in, others he cowered under. "And one, that I cowered over. I passed out in the helicopter, do-it-please-yah." He told of his second wife, a bit more fondly and romantically than his first wife. She had passed away not 8 months before the young man visited him for the first time and that was 6 months past. He showed scars, from the prison camps. He rolled cigarettes from his poke pouch. He admitted forgetting the face of his father.

0

Sep 28, 2012

Sep 28, 2012 at 7:50 PM UTC

jeremy-duff

The Old and the Young Man, Respectively.

The old man sighed and jammed his freshly rolled, freshly lit cigarette into the ash tray. "Too many cigarettes before bedtime oft' keep an' old man like me up all night." The young man put out his cigarette as well, gently weeping inside over the wasted tobacco. "Aye, a youngin' like myself as well." The conversation had been going slightly south ever since the young man made the mistake of asking about his counterparts first wife. "She died," he had said "One of them December o' 2012 suicides that plagued the big cities such as this." The young man remembered how he had looked out the window at this point a bit too nostalgically. "She was crazy," he had added "I knew it the day I slipped the ring on and I know it now." They dropped the subject and began talking about The War, coincidentally another touchy subject. "Most of my friends died, and if you've read your history books you know it was not courage or chivalry that killed them but the ignorance and fear that our country breathed when drafting all the young men." He had escaped with his life, which he believed was garbage. he told of how he had hid in the sewers while the long thought peaceful Canadian's swarmed over the East coast. While his friends died he ate rats. While the war machine chugged he was cowering. "Aye, I see how you looked at that stoke, though." "Pardon?" The young man had been deep in thought of the conversation they had been having. "How old are you anyway?" "19 on the 9th." "And still not a whisker on your chin, aye?" "Aye." He told of many more battles. Some he fought in, others he cowered under. "And one, that I cowered over. I passed out in the helicopter, do-it-please-yah." He told of his second wife, a bit more fondly and romantically than his first wife. She had passed away not 8 months before the young man visited him for the first time and that was 6 months past. He showed scars, from the prison camps. He rolled cigarettes from his poke pouch. He admitted forgetting the face of his father.

23

I'm watching you from the left corner, over here, where dust has swarmed to. I see you go to sleep, and awaken just like I see you when you come home wasted. I can remember a time when you saw me too, but that time was ages ago, the bond that we had, they burnt through and now you've forgotten me... You left me alone; defenseless to these dust bunnies.

0

Jun 1, 2016

Jun 1, 2016 at 10:55 PM UTC

Jellyfish

Dust Bunnies

I'm watching you from the left corner, over here, where dust has swarmed to. I see you go to sleep, and awaken just like I see you when you come home wasted. I can remember a time when you saw me too, but that time was ages ago, the bond that we had, they burnt through and now you've forgotten me... You left me alone; defenseless to these dust bunnies.

9

Fueled Inspired Awakened Restored In-tuned Inlined Enlightened Heartened Guided Filled Swarmed Called United Bewildered Trained Equipped I am a Filipino Youth of today's Man of future For God's glory.

0

Sep 24, 2013

Sep 24, 2013 at 9:35 AM UTC

ferdinand-panerio

I AM A FILIPINO

Fueled Inspired Awakened Restored In-tuned Inlined Enlightened Heartened Guided Filled Swarmed Called United Bewildered Trained Equipped I am a Filipino Youth of today's Man of future For God's glory.

20