Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
kclantern Apr 2017
to say I am my own
is a misunderstanding.
I am not my own.
I have no business living in my body.

every so often
a soul enters and departs
slipping and evaporating like clouds
and hazy veils of smoke.

the souls tell me who they were
and what they weren't.
I can no longer help them
since their time is up.

no wonder people ask
"what are you thinking about?"
for souls pass through me like doors
and gates left cracked ajar.

to say I am not myself
is an understatement.
I am emptied.
I hold weary travelers as if they were my own.
James Floss Sep 2018
I am in fact a dinosaur
****** into the late 50s

Child of the 60s
Emancipated: late 70s

Came of age through the 80s
Became a man in the 90s

Time travelled in 2000 but
The naughts were frought

Better when in the 2010s
Seeing liberation by the 20s

Extant not yet extinct
This dinosaur still roars.
zz Feb 7
I saw the northern lights
and slept on the beach
to watch how the sun
greeted the morning

I cried at  Güell Park
and wept at Monet´s garden
to handle the beauty
I never see again

I kissed a stranger in Rome
and lid the candles in cathedrals  
I met the beautiful people
and make them my friends

And yet
I´d exchange all of that
for the little wrinkle you had
last time you smiled at me
ryn Feb 2015
Blue clouds gaze the wrapped sun
frozen kisses in my blood
travelling a thousand miles
to meet up with you.

There is none else walking
down this path where memories
wake up and dance
inside my armored heart.

I peeled off each kisses embrace
out of my parched lips.
I shook off the tree,
where your scent had blossomed.

Every step down this scarcely trodden path saw...
Each peel fall with helpless, damsel-like grace.
Brown leaves shone amber touched by fingers of the sun
Invasion of warmth through my greyed bony carapace.

Gentle tremors reverberate within with subtle anguish.
Sweet scented portal that took me back,
To the illusion of time where we once were...
In drunken stupor...laying under a star strewn canvas of black.

Senses that spoke of a great fantastical tale.
You are still here... In this cloying void with no one around...
Only that scent...your scent tugging on my core
Invisible tendrils berthing my feet back on ground.

Alone and wanting don't want to be anymore.
I want to feast my lungs on your skin once more.
I want to vibrate under your touch again,
In anguished anticipation and sweet pain.

I hurl your name to the echoing wind,
Blowing ferociously over the closed passage.
Only to find that I'm but elongating
the distance between our fading wishful stars.

Fading far only to find that I'm lost yet again,
Still harvesting a basket full of ripened hope.
Traversing planes with warped, slanted doorways,
Frantically seeking purchase on knobs with fevered gropes.

Heavy layered breaths inhaled too shallow...
Tracing missteps to decipher what it all meant.
When all is moot...weary, weathered and futile,
Forever I'll be bathing in the familiarity of your soothing, nectarous scent...

Dajena M
My first collab with the incredible Dajena M. She had deleted her account and the collaborative pieces she had posted went away as well. But... I found them!!! Yay!

I'm so glad we had the chance to collaborate on such an amazing piece together.
The blunt surface and wooden *****
Confined within impenetrable walls
However reverb dangerously.
Numbers reappeared to disorientate me.

It was the lion I sought advice from
For a dove that had been travelling with a rose
With a weight as heavy as its wings
Against the torrent of winds and sky.

I counted the time as if I were a clock.
Gently did it leave while I was not looking,
Its music turned down by long fingers
That lightly grazed the glasses
Like tracing back the steps that I at first hastened.

Never again will I see with my lashes curled by  
Its own Evening Dew.
I only pray that the silver soldier marches
Next to me with armor close to my chest
Close to my eyes so no gaze could ever *******.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
It seemed the space between us became torn and
Profoundly distanced....................

Jamming bony knuckles and spread eagled fingers,
Lying their mapped out journey.....direction on point patrol....
Adorned by silver decoration, delighting in their skinned habitat
Shafted, deceit punching the recipient of the poison digits
Prodding and pushing their intent....dare you contradict
The intended carved out dose of punishment, Risk and
Safety......not yours and never would be; stooped
Down under the assailing bony palmed attachements
That delivered penetrating power, cupped around
Your arm til it became discoloured, pressure points
Backed you into a corner, up against the grain of the
Brick wall, cold and damp, the odour reaching
And scolding your nostrils with its stale internal vows
Refuse, stretching and protruding its foul remnents
An earlier life, when you were not under threat fades
Your very existance in jeopardy, your eyes pleaded for
Normality, willing someone to hear your silence, grip you
Tightly, not with malice, but with bravery and valour
Right now you need that shining knight, that white
Horse galloping down the blind alleyway, yet you
Know that won't happen for you're already sinking
To the floor, the blow comes sharp and stings, warmth
Exudes and trickles a path downwards, leaving your
Body, finding the cold concrete beneath you, travelling
I have not always been good.
I have been punished for the smallest mistake
and shown more forgiveness than I deserve.
I have been softer and more vulnerable
than I have been in a very long time
and had my heart ripped out because of it.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the purest water trickles
from a Highland stream and into a tap, far away,
and where I am not.
You are right; I am lonely.
It enfolds me like a cloak, billowing in the wind.
Meanwhile the wild geese are beginning to fly south
and I must head for the north.
When we pass each other, in our flight,
I will smile and nod to them on their way.
They have all that they need
and I am still searching.
A response to one of my favourite ever poems, Wild Geese by Mary Oliver. It's about living the city I called my home for five years and moving on, not knowing what to do, but trying to take the advice she gives in her poem.
Valsa George May 2016
Like a toddler taking maiden steps
The narrow stream moves through the woods
Tripping and falling over pebbles and boulders
Chiming its silver anklets

Forcing itself in irrepressible flow
It thrusts and shoves its way down
Through thickets and a line of ferns
And the tangle of creepers and thorny brambles

Drowning the whisper of bamboo leaves
Its sweet murmur falls in my ears
As an eternal living melody
The cosmic song heard over eons

As the water sluices down the rocks
It becomes a frothing braided torrent
Producing a harsh grating roar
Like the crescendo of a tribal symphony

There it forms into a small pool
With its waves gently rippling
Where birds merrily come to take a dip
And sunning their feathers, fly back refreshed

Sometimes travelling unseen
It suddenly emerges into the open
Cutting its way through cracks and fissures
Never willing to surrender before hurdles

With a bearing immaculate in grace
It sends out waves of pure delight
What joy it is to watch the dilly dally
Of this sedate pilgrim moving to its destination
ryn Aug 2014
Wish I had a special pair of lenses
A tool for me; just for my senses
That grant me binocular vision
Allow me to see with heightened perception.

Peer through mountain crags, over dunes of sand
Pierce skyscrapers in familiar foreign lands
A sight beyond nimbus clouds
Amazingly through temporal shrouds.

Past breathtaking ridges and quiet plateaus
Alongside a ****** of black-feathered crows
Tripping over singing brooks and moss-covered pebbles
Herds of quadrupeds as they frolic and gambol
Extraordinary views and candy for the eyes
Travelling linear between earth and skies.


You're too far away for me to see
Even if bestowed upon me...


I wish my eyes binocular...
Because I need you so much closer...
ryn Sep 2014
Doom train hurtling along
Through the fog in my mind
Towing freight, rectangular and oblong
Dim headlights, you're travelling blind

Five carriages long, excluding engine and caboose
Metal against metal, spitting sparks on steel
Undetermined path, rails will choose
Chugging along on dirt covered wheels

In the cabin, I see the light
Emanating from your furnace
Swallowing up coals in your gaping bite
Tongues of flames licking the surface

Fire breathing, spewing thick black smoke
Almost unseen, against the dark of night
A long plumy arm as if extending to choke
And plug the remaining sources of light

Meandering precariously on tracks that weave
Over uncharted, unfathomable terrain
Your store, so reliably you heave
Worming your way through my brain

What's in that cargo of yours?
What lies within those boxcars?
What drives you to diligently run your course?
What fuels you to travel near and far?

Loads of self pity, self loathing and self reproach
Snaking your way to an unknown destination
Screeching brakes as if a stop you approach
Herald the train of dubious intentions

Light is upon you, dark will dissipate
Your plumes starting to lessen from your stack
The dawn breaking horizon you didn't anticipate
To see another charging towards you on this very same track...
See "Light Train"
See "Collision Course"
Dominique Simeus Sep 2017
Troubled, tired and did not know what to do
Confused about religion and promises of this world
Looked for answers for my dying soul 'cause I felt so blue
Like someone stepping out a sphere that had been just twirled

Loud I cried, but no words could come out
In the midst of the crowd, was nothing but a Ghost
Driven by misery, I found myself on the lonely route
Burned by the sun like someone who had made a roast

No strength left, I felt face down on the sand
Nothing but silence I heard, thought I was travelling to the other world
Then I felt as if the Living Light took me by the hand
Whispered into my ears “…It’s time to unfold”

Freedom I sensed, life became anew
Courage I gained, my mind was at ease
Peace I found, I felt so true
I deprived of it all to be led by the Breeze
Stephanie Nov 2015
Quest along the beaten path -
Rite of Passage;
Cheerfully pay toll -
Your Fair Share of sacrifice.
In return,
Falsehoods, hollow&unholy;
Silhouettes of acceptance
Virtual applause
Manufactured smiles,
Which guide like tracks,
Revealing shortcuts to sunlight
Passing predators' dens
Lustful leeches
Latch on with thirst,
Flesh swells
Veins burst-
A familiar love
Still travelling
In figure 8s -
Hypnotic lemniscates,
An infinite conflict-
Self-reliant cannibal
Indulges in
Structured insanity.
My heart have no brakes
Just on a ride with the winds
Pretending to be deaf to what they say
For they are pointless like his dreams.

I can imagine the busy nature of a busy bee
But my heart is busier indeed
Discussing the issues of life in a silent plead
Still no ears ever listened to him.

My heart, a beautifully shapeless engine of life
Travelling far and wide
Intruding without being noticed
Harming not, adventure, learning are his motives.

Daily arguing against nature
Often in his extreme corner fighting for the weak
Heart broken by the harsh policies of his nation
My fate is his only whip.
lifeonLSD Oct 2018
— - —
Call it magic if you may
the sun, the moon’s pray

Constantly chasing each other
day after night, night after day

Such a perfect contradiction they make

Putting together the right ingredients
to complement each coloured ray

When one were to fall the other
would silently rise, filling its place

With every small step they take,
synchronicity follows without ever
missing a beat

So on they move

Completely balanced,
without anybody taking the lead

In the beauty they unfold upon us
this has to be
one of the most wondrous spectacles
if you ask me

Words are unable to measure
by any means their lightning show
how they glow with a radiance
that highlights their power and control

Or how they never let
each other down
Or stand in each other’s sway

No envy I feel
nor does appreciate is able to say

The truths about their nature,
always ready to unveil
hidden in every passage lay
the constant sacrifices they have made

The forces that pulls
each other so close
the same it pushes away, too

If one steps out of place,
all falls out of space and will be let loose

With lightyears of travelling
they unified their bond but are still
bound to live in separation

I admire you,
from a far

An admiration so magnificent
it cannot be free
One of the most magical things
enabling us to see

Right on time
as ever so soon

The dance
between the sun and the moon.
— - —
a mere spectator
ryn Sep 2014
Light train chugging, working to outrun
Over exerting, pulling along your freight
Sand is running out under the diminishing sun
Fastidiously you tug on your enormous weight

Segmented equal in seven hulking proportions
Weaving between sleeping rocky giants
Assertion in your drive gifted from the high heavens
Borne of light your cargo load of tenants

Silver blurred rays glinting back as reply
As you power your way through
Defying seconds, before the last rays should die
Against odds, delivering what is due

Questing to alleviate my inflicted darkness
Spear of brilliance slicing through my mind
Illuminating the farthest and tiniest of crevices
Nook and crannies that willed me blind

Careful manoeuvring to keep your balance
Through scenic views fraught with treachery
Furiously working to keep your cadence
Hopeful of unloading the load you carry

What lies dormant in that cargo of yours?
What sleeps easy within those boxcars?
What stokes the fire to diligently run your course?
What promises you bear, travelling near and far?

Bales of hope and crates of strength
Supplies of kindness and self-worth
Reside within your immense length
Intact and lay quiet within your formidable girth

Reliant on the light that fuels and feeds
Your axles seem tireless guiding forth those wheels
Thundering over land with the power of a thousand steeds
Armed to your teeth with alloys and steels

Expelling grit and dirt as you pummelled across
Grey-white fumes, shoot up to the sky
Flag flogged by wind, billow and toss
Blaring your whistle as you race on by

Propelling forward, horizon up ahead
There it all its tenebrous glory
Darkened locomotive seething mad with dread
Brace for the clash and the loads the two carry
See "Doom Train"
See "Collision Course"
Mary Gay Kearns Mar 2018
Travelling by foot in whatever weather
I took to walking the gardens' route,
With single lens reflex camera
Still able to take the sort of pictures
That stop the eyes from wandering.
Photos in black and white
Where contrasts given a subtlety
Slowly revealing the depths
Of the familiar.

And into the park
Where rain, recently fallen,
Drenches the lens with jewels
Dropping from tree and cloud,
Catching the light
With its rainbow spectrum
And collecting moments
Of nature's splendour
Into unnoticed places.

Love Mary ***
Donall Dempsey Nov 2018

Seated beside her
in the pew

her doll listened intently
to the Saviour who

emerges from
the old priest's mouth

an ectoplasm of words
as He manifests before her.

"Is there a doll heaven?"
she wonders.

Her little mistress however is
bored very bored indeed

much more interested  in
a sunbeam genuflecting

before the altar
extinguishing the priest's voice.

Or the ladybird
landing on a lady's foxfur

it more jewel
than the jewel worn.

Picking her nose
as the host is

held aloft

a bird perched upon
the left shoulder of

the crucifix
the Christ a mere cypher

how the artist
fancied HIm.

The crucified man smiling at her
despite how boring the sermon is.

Sunlight becoming colour
travelling through stained glass.

Her doll nods off
falling at her feet

"Shhhhhh!" father scolds
both doll and daughter.

Doll's head broken in four
nothing inside but an emptiness

all her thoughts

The smile still fixed
on her porcelain face.

Incense like death
walking upon the air.

The tiny ******
of a bell.
“Be thine own palace, or the world's thy jail.”

John Donne
Donna Jul 2018
She has skin like soft
midnight and eyes that shine like
the bright evening moon

Her laughter echoed
happily around the room
travelling through an

open window,  to
sing with the birds , her big smile
lights up any heart

Emigrating far
away to Dominion
Republic..her quest

for a brand new life
begins to take shape , her dream
ready to breathe air

Born in Africa
She's a lady of respect  
A jolly spirit

Her mother skills show
in her children , polite kind
loving and happy

She wanders through her
newly painted house with a
silent hum of smiles

She said to me 'Donna
you're getting married next week
and your here painting

my house , how have you
coped'  , I said I have a real
amazing daughter

who as taken charge
of all that needs to be done
We both smiled so wide

She wears a silky
scarf around her head , she as
the essence of

a free butterfly
I admire joesphine
I'm glad I met her :)
The job me and dean are working on as been a real blessing x
Enjoy your weekend everyone **
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2018
“leave at your own chosen speed”

Dylan inserts a phrase that haunts,
indestructible permafrost,
played in slow and ever slower reverb all life long,
for it’s intuitive and you recognize it too well
as the best companion to the sour ending of another love affair

(but! this one differs; called love yourself)

the sad of a dying love, remembering the steady drift away,
capped by a casual remark that doesn’t sting but
cuts a Y on your chest, a lover’s coroner courtesy,
the bad humours permitted to at long last healthy escape

you’re staggered but say nothing for
is a changeable elf, a mischievous devil,
requiring constant monitoring cause you moving,
but the speed limit alway a reflection of the road you’re on

speed is a tag along to show the overall fit still works,
though now far from the obvious and familiar
and the inspiration modifies,
so you retrofit untill the parts are incapable of
bending to new demands, contours unfamiliar, old plans no good

“leave at your own chosen speed”

for I am leaving you as I leave myself,
beaches erode,  lighthouses corrode, the salt cannot be refused,
the earth demands your return as the lease is deemed
non-renewable and the space where the date shall be inserted,
is parcel of the contract and though blank, certain to be fulfilled

the body erodes, the ***** parts corrode,
and this season of the new year^ comes with the usual disclaimer
recited on the tenth day from today

‘who will live, who will die,’^^

taught to you as a young-in, a child who can comprehend
even before manhood arrives, comprehend that life ends,
all good things and it ain’t no use, born compromised, but
“don’t think twice, it’s alright”

the slate you have written overdue for a prudent clean wet erasure,
so you begin to leave at your own chosen speed,
which is kind of nice, even cool, organizing your papers,
write with contented softness that so long eluded,
now come easy heady peasy

after a life of reciting poetry, good bad and always too long,
the pressure is on and off, side by side, even a dimming bulb
sheds some light, revealing what yet needs revealing

that Day of Atonement annual visitor,^^^ he/she of impish humors,
makes Pandora play a new station,
‘dimming of the day,’
reminder that it gave you a piece of an unowned heart to hold,
leased temporarily but the temp is roaring,
who, boo hoo, for you?

life and love is all about leaving,
the pen in penitent gone dry, no refills in this new world,
wish that **** rooster would stop crowing at
the break of sundown,^^^^  when I'll be gone
I'll be travelling on, for when the new day begins,
that’s my own signature personal marker,
the sundown poet

~the first day of the new year on the Jewish calendar
  Mon, 10 September 2018 =  1st of Tishrei, 5779

  Rosh Hashana 5779
^ see

^^ see poem

^^^ see poem

^^^^ jewish law says the day begins at sunset till the next sundown
faa Jul 2018
Her lips constant at the utterance
Of sweet and serene words filled
With adoration, praising him,
He who made endless hearts
do cartwheels and somersaults
Of multiple, millions nigh and far
their hearts loving
As long as he’s living

Nonetheless, changing courses
Of history was what she excelled
One glance, one encounter turned

Her lips managing
to do none but stutter
To his shielded heart
no one managed to flutter

His deer like eyes observing
With admiration, eyes sparkling
every look, crook, nook
Of her smile that shook
The worlds and heavens
Devout in his heart and mind

His earth's plates shifting
His massive planets orbiting
He witnessed it all in one being

The gravity of the universe on her
Shoulders heavy from responsibility
The heavens challenging her capability
Her hardships conveyed as she blinked
their dilated orbs communicating
language barriers unstoppable
To what her eyes held

He understood his needs
To care, to cherish, to love,
Feeling his heart pumping blood
Faster, quicker than light
Travelling the dark domains
Undiscovered, just like her soul
That he felt the need to explore
As his heart finally fluttered
Zowie Georgia May 2014
Love I've not yet met you to the fullest,
to the capacity I know we are
and the understanding that's to come.
But it’s okay,
The timing was wrong,
we had plenty of lives to live,
to experience other loves and the alien times,
to know what we truly want
and recognize ourselves in each other.

Love if we hadn't known such loneliness
how would we truly appreciate what home feels like together,
being in eachother's arms will make all the waiting so much more bearable.
Through the past, lessons learned and the rewards yet to arrive
I will bump into you my Love,
where my dreams and reality collide,
and you will have been looking for me too
for eons,
and I will laugh at my cynicism,
how silly I was,
to believe you didn't exist.

How will I know it is you I hear you say,
My heart will know I’m telling you.
I’m stronger now my heart's softer,
I couldn't possibly not know now.
And how will you know I telepathically ask,
because I already feel you I hear,
How could we not know each other already...

I’ll lose myself in your eyes
distracted by nothing but your next micro-expression,
I will be so full by the ultimate knowing that It’s you,
I've been waiting lifetimes
for your deep brown eyes.

And you’ll know me
how I've always wanted to be known,
wordless or full of them depending on my mood,
you’ll know.
I allow your hands to touch me
without trying to control,
softening more because I'll want you to devour me
and I’ll truly know surrender.

My love,
I know you're there
As I’m here.
Our lives will continue to move in directions
and yes this world is massive
but I'm travelling towards you
just be there waiting to see me.

<3 <3 <3
Lovers meeting through the Ether, already familiar within - bringing the inside into a physical embodiment
Mugerwa Muzamil Apr 2018
I was a better love poet
When we were dating
The anxiety to be exactly
what you're looking for
stimulated all my hibernating
Now a good lover
But a skeptical writer
Anticipation would stir
my imagination
Now blank with a pen
To every word chain
To every verse
To every unfolding stanza
There was magic and rhythm
This translated into intimacy
But I have got a plan
I'm going to take my mind
on excursion
Do bungee jumping
so I seize an out of body moment
I'm taking on a travelling job
To miss you so much
so often
For all that love
For all that homesickness
To burst into a word montage
Daiene Sep 2018
i love travelling at night
makes me feel like i could write
pieces of melodies that could make me
hold on tight
at every wonder that's in sight.
i tried
Collins learns May 2018
It is only in this world,
This very ideal place,
That people goes insane.
Travelling there,
Sure you get convinced,
Its a small heaven.

A man so poor ,
Is blinded that riches ,
That he is so rich,
To Bill gates standing,
He builds a granary,
Yet nothing blossoms in the farm.

A plan is made,
Carefully laid out,
Procedurally worked on,
But alas!
Its just a mere thought,
Its survival depending on fate.

A youth sees a cute lass,
Praises her,
Compares her to an angel,
And like a combatant plunges to war,
To win the dream lady.

A shock that hits my ally,
Equals a thunder strike,
When the guy's effort,
Regardless of sacrifice,
And suffering endured,
Is stubbornly  disregarded.

These world in question,
Should be addressed first,
Until reality is seen,
For they say,
Only reality part of a dream,
That matters a lot.
It's all about things we always own before it realy happens ,
Next page