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Peyton Smith Mar 2013
I live for nights like this,
When nothing matters
Except the rain that parades the ancient metal roof,
Like nature's metronome, and it's begging.
It's begging me to bring out my mildly neglected Gibson
And unroot a pick from atop my dresser.
My fingers can taste rust on the strings,
And I like it.
I live for nights like this,
When I sit in my room and play lofty minor chords
To my audience of no one.
I love the scratchy pain in my throat
After I sing for hours about absolutely nothing.
The stereotypical teenage guitar player,
Not doing their homework, not doing anything
Besides putting their heart into 16 bars.
I live for nights like this.
Malintha Perera Oct 2014
autumn wind
shakes the dark clouds…
a laugh bursts

the rising mist
catches my skin…
warm fingers

sound of rain
on the roof…
a tap dance

on leaves…
the thump they bring
unroot silence

water strips
outside the window…
puddles crackle

fallen leaves
float by and by…
waving shadows

wind and the rain… ticks everywhere

rain drops blend moist air….. sweetness

loud gasps
from the skies…
thunder

lightning flashes
a brief glimpse…
thoughts

© Malintha Perera 2014
Typing doesn't bring you back
why?

Why
my
words
became
bland white spaces:
symbiotic thick black ink
evaporeted; symbols extinguished
by my horrid hope lost.
Hands are wings
of
hope.

Hope - I - too
can capture your smile
alive one-day.

Words drift
me - by myself
cadence
you - by yourself
alone
Each-one of us- a Poet
Intertwined
Please. . .
Embrace my love,
don't mix my mind!
Why do you hide behind your made-up chaos?
Fractals have a strange mystic impact
on chaotic pulse within
nlp beats & heart
growing
green-greeneeshee
greenee-shy Grin
songs of glasses
Tambourine.

Whipped white cream
in the year of a woolen lambs -
and I am not marry.
Yet,
I stand like an Isle
unyielding, connected to my
stubborn roots.

Dignified is the highest
peak of a mountain.
Riding the clouds up there, you should see me
screaming, my love to You whirled away. . .

Barren land, wiped by the wild winds.
rattling raindrops, ruby tears.
Are you just an illusion?
Are you a dream to be:
Purple bushes breath.
Red bushes breathe.
Unroot them! Not!
Vine of my heart gone.

Tiny book in my palms -
pages, passages
of love found
as a promise,
My soul is moved.

Picturesque poetry,
miniature
beauty.
The World
loved again.
sea, pisces, sand
**Peaceful, Safe land.
love land
~
Imagined by
Impeccable space
Poetic beauty
~
Oskar Erikson Oct 2023
take me taste me
you are the body
reset me satiate me
you are the body.

touch only
fragments of the full picture
nobody says
the taste would betray me
nobody says
the heart
is the first ***** to commit mutiny.

stabbed, wrecked
punctured, indented
wilt the words so
so my mouth
isn’t responsible anymore.
it cannot be held accountable
for the vowels, unroot my language
supplant love in favour of it

like an opener
                            I remember your laugh
like a close.
Way Rest Jun 2018
Oh, the day I remember
Of Cupid's victims I became a member
I looked your way, and something was amiss
I felt Aphrodite's sweet kiss.

Your eyes did assume an inhuman spark
Your visage, oh your visage to my heart did it hark
Oh it pains my soul, my amor
My heart pains even more.

That you became the spark
In another's life
Oh your kiss did mark
You as another's wife.

I cursed my fate
Cupid and Aphrodite, I did hate
I was a man no more
But a cast away husk that you would not adore.

Yet my mind awakened
My hatred lessened
I saw thee in a new light
Of the world's adoration you have every right.

You a sweet flower, in a crowd of many such
Yet only you bear Beauty's touch
And I the wanderer see
From a distance I admire thee

I needn't unroot you from your station
I am always there, away from your vision
My sight blessed with your presence
You are this sick soul's healing essence.
Gale Dec 2018
You are here
Overlooked yet you stand tall
Merely existing as part of something greater

Feeding off of what the sun can give
What the darkness could never provide

You’ve grown rings
Each tell a story
Of all the forces you’ve conquered

But you are still
In the same place you were yesterday
The same place you will be tomorrow
Yet you stand tall
Tall as though no wind will be strong enough to unroot the foundation you have made

Merely existing as part of something greater
Content with spot you’ve chosen to grow
You stand a lot taller
pt 1
Star BG Feb 2019
When trees dream,
their branches drift in sky
acting like brushes to paint clouds.

They whisper calling birds to
dillydally tickling leaves
that make it laugh.

When trees dream,
they bond with wind,
and play peekaboo with inch worms
who hide in their bark.

They unroot and dance
on highways of Mother Natures grassy hair,
as fairies play flutes.

They explode with flowers
whose scents encourage
spiders to weave masterpieces.

When trees dream,
they travel into some humans sleep time
trying to send them messages
to come home to Mothers voice.
can't asleep so I thought I would write. Saw a picture by and artist named Cecilia Soprano called When trees Dream and thus this poem was born.
saarahe Nov 2020
Longing and losing
lost in the sacred hours
I wonder if I sleep
my dreams screeching will scatter

sleep, the world cries
beyond that divide
a dreary fireside
ever increasing, eating alive

like a summer sprout
dancing in the wind
daring these ends
to unroot again

the times are tumultuous
if you rest in the day
the sun's searing rays
can pick you to flay

the moon a guiding light
searching through the dark
for people falling into
it's reliable ark

a foot, a step
the ground is solid somewhere
don't give up yet,
sleep
for the day carries light
you can sometimes just see it clearer by night

sleep because it's real
for a reason
it's real so dream,
dream so you can wake up
in the morning's glorious squeeze

— The End —