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eleanor prince Dec 2018
I see the boy's eyes
puckered
destroyed
he can't grasp
how is this
so?

on balance
tales and
lies do
for the spark of
a yarn's
pull?

or are the child's
ties torn
the parent's
solidity broken
his rock
in a world

shaken?
an uncomfortable reality...
Hannah Christina Sep 2018
I bought myself a kite to fly
I tossed it up and ran around
I tried to pull it through the sky
But found it just dragged on the ground.

It landed in the mud, it was mangled, it was done
And thus concludes the tragic tale of the kite I numbered one.

My second kite was different.
It caught a mighty gale
I flew it well, then let it go
And in the end I failed.

It joined released balloons and leaves, whatever else is there
In the *****, lonely cloudland in the out-of-picture air.

I still had hope and so I bought
My final silken bird
I told myself that I would soon
Unleash it to the word.

The kite's debut date got pushed back and further back until
It found a final resting place untested in its skill.

I bought myself three kites to fly
The first two meet ill fates
The third one has a dusty shelf
Where it keeps very safe.
Of dreams and men.

I'll probably change the title and maybe edit more, we'll see.  This was honestly in my drafts for like over two months.  I wanted to finally publish it.
Shashi Jan 2017
It was a moment of destruction,
that created something beautiful.

When your eyes met mine,
for the first time

Love was created,
and the heart....  destroyed !!
Short Tales of Love #1
muna Dec 2017
you're scared.
because you've always lived
in a fantasy you made up
inside your head;

too scared to step out
and walk in your glass slipper;
too scared to go bare feet
on broken glass.

you were Cinderella
in your daydreams.
you thought and you hoped
that real life worked like fairy tales.

you stayed inside your carriage
and you dreamt.
but could you fly on the backs
of those wingless dreams?

no, not when midnight came
and they began to vanish;
not when your carriage disappeared;
your world.

then, struck by darkness,
you trip and fall into life's abyss,
and your glass slipper shatters;
your heart.
All those fairy tales are full of it.
Apple on a Rose Jul 2017
Am I self-sabotaging
is that what this is?
when my minds telling me he's good for me
but my heart wants to resist.
Am I truly in this
Like actually wanting to see where it goes?
He'll tell everyone he is
Even willing to propose.
But what if the feeling isn't mutual,
Just a sick game, manipulated insides?
All of the doubts, thoughts and confusion are drowning
Yet there's nowhere to hide.
I'm expected more of,
And people awe at all we have
Yet how much of it is real
How much of it is fact.
Is it a fact I love you?
Or a fact I thought I did?
Is it real we're meant to be?
Or did we just take our largest bid?
Is there something here?
That's not make belief?
Or is it all a matter of our imagination
A story line we confuse for life?
Or is this actual fact, feeling and love.
That I am just unable to reciprocate.
Despite believing I should.
Is this the fairy-tale people hope for
The fairy-tale I misunderstood.
Well it’s a thing about wood,
a sea-cret about stone
a tension in the heavens;
has left earth all alone…

You’ll find it in your heart,
see it in your mind
hear it in the sounds;
repeating over time…

That’s the thing about stone,
the difference in the wood
all the loneliness of earth;
out of a darkness came good…

A secret in a song
a music in the wood
a message in stone,
from the heavens;
as it should.

Secrets in song
music from wood
messenger-stone
a feeling of good…

Love of your heart
found in your mind
beauty of the heavens;
and it’s repeated over time.
ottaross Jun 2016
We went to a play last week

Actors strutted around

Among a set of tall buildings

Made of actual stone of grey

And billowing smoke

And noises

And crowds.


Upon the great stage they talked

About their ancient ideas

Like wars

And politics

And freedom.

In one scene an actor yelled

and swung a mighty hand

and struck the other man!


And though we knew

It was really just acting

The idea that one

Could hit another

Shocked all of us in the audience
So powerfully

And a few people even left

The theatre

In tears.

But there were funny bits too

In the play that night.

A character said he had a car.

His Own. 
Personal. 
Car!

And together they were to drive

Both of them

Off to an aeroport.

Like with all the steering,

And foot pedals,

And everything.

And in a very sad part

Someone treated someone else badly

And called her names

Because of the colour

Of her skin

And because she had come

From somewhere else.

And all our eyes were wet for a while.

One man used a device

Which was an ancient komputer.

Two flat parts with a hinge

And it opened upon his lap

And one side glowed brightly

To illuminate his face

And he presses a bunch of button-keys

To spell words and things

Because that’s how they told the

Komputer

What to do.

And we all laughed.

when it was over a bunch of us asked the man that was hit if he was okay was he really okay it looked terrible and did they really have to do that awful thing in the play and was the other actor a bad man and he said no, it was alright and the other actor was a nice man and that it didn’t hurt at all and he said he was sorry that it scared us but it was the violence of the time and the people of that time and we said we kind of understood.

And we all felt better


But one lady

Still needed to hug him.

And his eyes

Were a little wet too.
Persephone May 2018
She stayed up in her high tower
Not knowing if she should come down
She was warned that the world outside was dark and dreary
But the tower within was as well
She had a choice
To choose which demon she wanted to dance with
The one with in or the one out
No one else would tell her
So she was left to scream, and to shout
English Jam Feb 2018
She is a ruler, proud in her glory
Sets hearts to flame, turns lovers to screams
Her nails alone are ripped from a story
Reduces soldiers to men without mean

Eyes marble-black, with sharp slits in the centre
Hair that waves as though in water
Glistening red as crowds begin to enter
They know her tales, but none have caught her

What she requires - they all deliver
Her voice is a choir - that makes all shiver
She doesn't walk
She struts

Bends over in a seductive style
Caresses villainy in her seat
Crooning, intentions hidden all the while
Inaudible but the tread of her feet

March, march, march on to the drums
The Dark Majesty never forgets
Absorbing herself in hymns and hums
Oblivious to drunken admissions of regret

Queen of tyranny will never rest
But for serenity - she fails the test
She's majestic
But joy eludes her
There's a song by Queen called The March of the Black Queen that was the chief inspiration to this. Give it a listen, it's simply amazing.
Jo King Dec 2017
When he left my mother told me something.
She said it's okay and this will pass
He's nothing compared to you
But as I laid there
On my bedroom floor
In the room where he claimed me
Where little girl dreams were shattered
I didn't believe her
Instead I screamed about how I hated life
How he left me like dust on my fingertips
Like the ash of my burned down home

Two weeks later and I'm a shell
Of who I was
Of who I am
Of who I'll ever be
My ribs poked out like piano keys
Just waiting to be played
And my collar bones
Oh they were waiting like glasses
Glasses expecting hard liquor
That I of course drowned myself in

The day her name left his lips
I was done for
I wanted to become nothing but earth and essence.
But my best friend cradled me
She promised I would find love again
That this hurt, no matter how bad it is,
Will only be temporary
I didn't believe her
So I rebelled against them all
It was only me

4 months later and I'm sitting in the car
My best friend sits beside me
I'm genuinely laughing
And she looks proud
Then she tells me how he's talking about me.
From my ******* boots
My infatuation with peaches
To how I harbor guitar pics on every inch of my body.
I relapse into him immediately
I wanted him so bad

6 and a half months later and he tells my best friend
That he hates me
My name swims out of his mouth on a raft of profanities.
But it didn't hurt as much as I thought
I think I grew
Little by little I became the new girl
The one that writes again and breathes the air a little deeper than the others.

6 and half months plus 3 days
I caress my fingers over my body
The shower beats down on me
"I want to be your friend" I whisper to myself.
He was nothing but a thunderstorm
But I am more than he
I am the sun
The moon
The stars
I am the heavens
I am the thing everyone revels in
And I made it through hell and back
And now I can finally say goodbye
September Roses May 2018
We are tied together by our stories, our history
Tales woven through our ancestry, when our parents talk of their younger days,
When their life was ahead of them,
the future was anything and everything,
they speak of their old friends with ache in their soul,
Of times when their hearts were filled with fire and passion,
running through fields growing memories  planted by the world around them
When they could sprint the wind in their hair,
adventure ahead,
hope in their heart.
They speak of the days behind with woe
Because essentially just their ideas of the future as a young mind, were more enticing than reality.
As dreams failed and hope faded
As their minds wear
and their treasured stories that made them who they are fog over
As threads begin to wear
As tales they once yelled to the world with pride fray at the ends
Your whole world slipping away as the thread unwinds
But they get the joy of passing down the tapestry to their pride and joy,
to the life they made,
Every moment we live with ease of no appreciation for every experience every laugh
Moments we take for granted
Moments we will pine for when they run out
Moments the elderly urge us with fire to cherish
Moments we'll wish we listened about
There is a vast tapestry of memories behind you and infinite thread panning out in front of you, connecting to other tapestries,
visiting at friends,
at enemies,
joining with soul-mates future.
Some cut away,
some ripped from the tapestries too soon before they could weave their own.
A loose thread cannot be fixed once more are made,
and the patterns will never be what you want them to be, savour each stitch
Take time on every thread
You don't want to be sitting there 50 years old thinking about the life you wasted
About the memories faded,
About how every slipping memory's never like the moment you made it.
Don't be sitting 90 filled with regret
Filled with hatred for every opportunity you left
Screaming into the void about how much you hate what your life become.
because they say time flys when your having fun truth is time only flies when you're young.
September Roses Mar 2018
Little house
Timeless street
Childhood garden

The scent of your preschool playground after a storm on a Wednesday in may

The distinguishable noise of your parents' doorbell

The weepy feeling looking at childhood photos and knowing you'll never get those moments back

The melancholy moment you realize the book you're reading was your favorite bedtime story

The second the atmosphere shifts and you're suddenly thrown back to memories of your mothers embrace on a stormy night

The suffocating feeling of revisiting tales thinning at the ends as your recollection slowly fades

The slipping grip of what once was that will never be again, slowly turning faded and acid washed until its nothing but a feeling you cant put a name to

Nostalgia
Steve Page Apr 3
A life can be told from different angles
A different moral every time
A fresh perspective from greater distance
Puts the truth to familiar lies
It's how you tell it and the angle you chose.
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
We are heating up
A-glow--- A-star--- A-blaze
Many other well-lit planets
She's luminous like no other
Simply crazed__Fairytales

*She's Peach-Fruitti-Tutti
Godiva loves nuts
All the melt in's
*
Mr. Bacio-Hazelnut*
Mr. Pistacchio he got his nose______

Inside their sweets____Pinnochio
She's the Light-up Icecream Cone  

Moods are like ice cubes
hot and cold websites
I prefer cold zone
Feeling like
Eskimo in Alaska


Miss Prima Donna
Oh! Donna is her name
Gelatos are not all the same
We are not here to have
special privileges

Robin lost some ruffles
Polar bears ice Igloo
College boys with their sports mug
Polo shirts Santa hoo duffle bags
We don't know what she knows
or what he likes the stars
of the Cosmo we are not
here to win someone's love
OH! Yes Lotto

We are not professors or wizards
Harry Potters, they have some
Pots not a fan of pans got
some ****
**** so cool menthol smoke indeed
Around the Gelato in eighty days
The Race of a drive

computer clicks one-day creation flag
Hens and chicks laid the golden egg

Mr. Egghead meeting Conehead

His tasters choice  
 She loves Mr. Maxwell Mansion
This is Italy the Art sculptures
Sweet Gelato lips say a
thousand words of pleasure
We travel with Exotic lovebirds
Saving the Ice blue diamond
Icecream wreck what a she
gains more than a pound
Mama Mia,
not the Chia job plant
 Over the rainbow
chill out pants
Having Gelato clean
as mint float

To the waffle cone top
of the mountain sugar coat
Niagara Falls here
"Gelato calls"

What spaghetti my name is
Carretti

Mr. Alfredo his physique and
passion for food
Feeling like the comics
Having fun marveling
Carvel walking through
the love tunnel
  
Hot ladies how do they ever
Decide iced up inside

Hothead Alfredo throws
the dough
She coughs he laughs
The pizza everyone's
the head is turning beet red
Something is burning exorcist,
Lady in red pizza list

Back in Brooklyn best
Pizza and Italy (Rome) Venice (Florence)
But Bensonhurst Saturday night fever
With Nightingale Mr. Chippendale
He's chatting away on his cell phone

With her Gelato looking at the
stars of the men spiritual experience
The Cosmos feeling meltdown presence
St Thomas sunny like yellow
gelato melting

Being a saint please don't faint
A food critic dessert
*** a hex playful flirt
T Rex mighty green lime
The love fallout of coconut
He's the hottest man
on earth Pluto
Being whole flavor or 1/2 pint
of Vanilla Sky scholar or
Intermission Icecream internship
The Canadian cup another trip

  Nike air what an ice cream pair
Going back to New York City
Rockettes icecream kick
He's on his time feeling the royalty
Lets bow to the dogs best friend
French barrette in her ice blue
Corvette, she is 'Ice Queen"
Super Ice me, Hero

Do what the Romans do
Lend me your warm soul of hands
Getting married Italian medieval rings
For my next Gelato adventure
escape be polite on Google
Mr. Alfredo loves all kinds of noodle
The shape of Cone's to come in her head

Not an Antman, please or fly by night
Icecream Cone Head Batman
*But I am a woman named Robin
Christopher Robin, Robin Hood
Why are boys and girls name alike
**** good humor lady
Good humor truck
Where is her order head chef
shrimp scampi
In the islands of Sorrento

What a time for ironing
What a waffle shirt eating
his waffle
Icecream with ladybugs and dirt
So many varieties mental thing
Everything icecream you scream
What a college Varsity every year  
"Hot lady Gelato's" head of the dean
list oh! No
[Mr. Alfredo} ice cream chair with
another Gelato pair
Chiao for now
Gelato went a little too far I love Gelato lets travel with Robin and get some unbelievable Gelato but we need to go to Italy I was there it's amazing
In the huge crowds of thoughts time is whiling away ,
one powerful , positive thought and  time stands in stillness.

Birds chirp and sing at dawn
telling
us they too have made it through the night .

Each episode taking a full circle with time as the only mate , taking one through the fate .Time precedes a journey for a memory great .

Ever changing and pacing racing , tracing , caressing , agonizing epoch .
Unparalleled are the details , each minute etching on the minds the tales of time .

©Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
#08.09.2019#
A thought process :-Needless to say anything more.
Wondering if Can one or can one not match the time tales ?
CK Baker Jan 2017
( i )
I lucked out
on table 4 last night
window seat
baseboard heat
with intimate passages
from Ginsberg
in his purest
and most evident form

Cover-all Carl was draped
in his usual garb
turning pages
of yesterday's news
animating, culturing and bantering
on the fate of the
Greek barber
(in an accent of which
I'm not so sure)

His cronies
looked on
with a twisted conviction
countering
with their own tales
of ingovernance and woe
did you know that Panasonic
lost 5 billion last quarter?


The evening moved
in time lapse...
with painted winds
streaming lights
and a host of
high school girls
running cold

Maleah passed
on her late shift
(checking the pile and trough)
patronized the boys
and called it a night

( ii )
The bald man
is back at it again
bickering at the till
something about
a cold free coffee
or 99 cents
or the coloured guy
behind him who got it hot
a kind Filipino
is trying to get it done
at 8 bucks per,
losing her cool
and shedding a quiet tear

Wonder what the Purewals
or Haitians or Cossacks
would have to say
about this grim public reminder,
wonder what
this sad f*ck
will do tonight...
without his
bus pass
or sling sack
or broken Turkish stems
did anyone seem to have the time
its too far away now to know for sure
my baby's alright
she shows me the stars and the moon at night
points up at em with her little finger and says
'ooo'
OpenWorldView Jun 12
she graced our lives
sowing joyful memories
we never forget

now she's an angel
soothing our saddened hearts
with little fond tales
Once upon a time
I fell in love with this man
And this man
Would break promises
Break my heart
But I was sure he was the one
I was blinded by love
I never saw the pain he caused
I loved him so completely
I believed I would never love again
Then one day
I met this other man
And this man
Truly kept his word
He was a dreamer
And no matter the day
Or how untrue it felt
He made sure he called me beautiful
So much so I'd believe him
And this man is the man I intend to spend my life with now
It is possible to love again.
Getting engaged in two weeks
Dead Rose One Apr 2018
Abbreviations of the Life Human

these little stories, bejeweled poeticals, long tall tales,
short-held breaths from the savings account breast,
all slow withdrawing-dawning,
all are but the abbreviations of the life human

my fav of course,
the one, the twenty six
the aleph best bet

<•>

4-16-18 10:47pm
a mondo Monday survivors prayer
Clay Feet Feb 2015
***
Crack in the ceiling
Expensive repair.

Crack in the glass    
Duct tape

Crack of a switch
Stripe the *****

Crack of a gun
Someone's done

Crack the vein
Relieve pain

Crack of lightning
Frightening

Crack the whip
Obey

Crack my skull
My mind mulls

Crack the mirror
Old wives’ tales dither

Crack the door
It's  her …

Crack of her ***
Beautiful tail
Ends this tight little piece
Quickie
Samantha Cunha Nov 2018
Lurking in my mind
are
disruptive thoughts
I may temporarily lose
but always find
these thoughts never
disperse fully
never diminish nor
dim down dully
reappearance of a lost train of thought
I held up the double edged sword
and fought
for
truths I was not ready to handle
blew out the
candle
smoke rose slowly
My god,
you are quite holy
darker thoughts
bring forward an inner truth
never entertain the uncouth
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