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L B May 2018
Yellow is
a high-minded mood
the extravagance of sunlight
to be touched--
before long
by colors of play
___

It is of hair
tendering golden sun
brown pennies for lemonade
__

Yellow is
bumping into the screaming end
of a lit
cigarette
___

Yellow is
dripping from the eaves
onto an empty soup can
___

It is
spindling sparrow song
from highest perch on roof
his pitch can aspire
___

Yellow is
in rattled doorknob
an infant's sweet
voice wanting – in
Reciting menu
above mattress
edges into sleep
two dark eyes
plead
for yellow
waking
Mother into morning--
“juice.... eggs”

Yellow  _
__
is
opening a car door
at the shore's
unmistakable!
Smells of life  
warmth and breeze
touching strings
those kites  
of sense
harmonics
above the tone
octaves of excitement
to see to hear to touch to taste
to know
again –

the ocean of my mother
as she calms the waves,
ignores the pouts of us
with stuff to lug out to the beach
the towels, pails and shovels
Picnic basket, cooler
lotion, comic books, her magazines

Mom looks out
She is a good swimmer
Her glasses, dark
Preside  
reflecting beauty –

“Take your sister's hand.”

Yellow are the squeals
Feet thrashing sand
of cannot wait
For my daughter, Phoebe and my mother.
My dreams whisper sweet things
And surreptitiously speak to me
My waking words are rote and empty
-spilling with hypocrisy
Yet their comforting embrace
Simply bring smiles to my face
Filling my mind while I'm asleep

They send messages lined with silver That vanish when I wake
To bring about a dull and listless form Who is shaping my last mistake
You see I wake in a storm
Simultaneously feeling constrained
To my bed
I can't get up while there's no filter
For the rush of noises in my head

If there's a difference between
What you know and what you believe Then why is it not as easy
To imagine my reprieve
Why can I only experience a vivid life
While I sleep
Then once again wake up
To this Fear Doubt and Anger
Choking me

Invoking me by pushing buttons
Of their endless promises
To for certain be found in youth
While my vision is livid sinning
Contemplating and pinpointing
Who too close is uncouth
You sit there and feed my veins
An explanation to your lies
With all the compromised
Washed up water
Memorized methods
Coping mechanisms
While it's your heart that remains
Aloof

Then sit there in desperation
Reiterating as if you know
The deep introspective answer
When any fool can see your wisdom
Is wrought in the vanity
Of a talented dancer

If you lost the truth of sanity
Would you retrieve it for ten cents
Or would you search inside
Before hiding from the confines
Of a necessary moment
I'd rather die or sacrifice my life
Before cowering from what's hidden
The message so raw
That counts your flaws
Like there was some proof
In what is missing

But ultimately I guess
It comes down to the small decision
The chip on my shoulder
That became a boulder
When I reached out
For my inner vision.

So while I feel so disparate and alone
In the trenches losing my senses
Will I be the hero or be the villain
Will I let the poison make me it's toy
Or take the penicillin

*Some days my life feels as heavy
As that last breath left over
From how loudly I shout
But I guess a general synopsis to you
Of how I sometimes feel inside
Is a decent first step to waking up
While I'm down and out
I realize that a lot of lines were taken from other poems of mine. It's supposed to be written like that
By the morning and the light
The bringer of life gives back
a day to stand before You
unveiled, touched, praying
Praise be to You who blessed
me with another waking

I have been asleep
In a dream that I believed in
and I’d captured scenes
that fooled me out of reason
upon the place I stood before
I fall on battered knees

I’ve seen the end so clearly
I ran with them, to You. They
who were the faithful,
they that followed truth...
blind are we by the light
or darkness, we all fall to ruin

What right do dreams have
wandering and imagining
such glory as to be the one
who speaks the truth of You
What remark have my lips parted
or refrained, to earn the words of You?

What right does my heart have
to this yearning for Your guidance
The one whose hand does hold the glory
of the morning, and the tide
In them are signs for us who wonder
we too will fall and rise
marianne Oct 2018
When yes is a gift
wrapped in love wrapped in
reason wrapped
in daydream wrapped in
self doubt wrapped
in pain wrapped in    
silence—
it is likely no, wrapped
in bitterness

When no is a gift
wrapped in love wrapped in
insight wrapped    
in waking wrapped in
bloom wrapped
in shelter wrapped in
truth spoken—
it is yes,
unwrapped
Ashley Black Jun 2017
Inspiration in life
is a bit like thunder at night
A rather loud reminder that
the world doesn't care
if you're sleeping.
Shofi Ahmed Oct 2017
A fine mole down
the blue mountain sky
cannot be weighed out!
It's the cosmos's gold dust
the earthy depth triumphs.
Oh earth, our close clay-star
is far ahead of the day at noon.
Ahead of the moon
ahead of the Neptune!

With a million dash of curiosity
every new sunrise paints
upon her black box with the roaring fire.
Yet the ****** is a veiled wonder!

It has the plethora a room for everyone
and time for timeless times.
Guess, with her longhand
what an inside scoop did it pick out?

You too can be in the know
It's the feminine beauty all in all.
You may have by now
seen women million and one.
The earth is eyeing on only one!

Her closest admirer is the star
of the very luminary bunch
with open eyes in the hearts.
Her dead man is waking up
sniffing the daylight by her.
Yet to make the discovery
both are still wondering outside!
Jess Jan 2018
Loading "reality.exe." Please wait. (99%)

Around you, the vivid shapes ebb;
recede and reduce to a wispy gossamer.
Look there! By the horizon:
glitter (or dust?) dissolving upwards,
a pirouette at the astronomical dawning
of consciousness.
This "hypnopompia": an intermission.
An interlude.
The in-between of inter-netted eternities.  

How long have you been here?
And have you been here before?
  

You are nowhere. You are everywhere.
Perhaps it is time to wake up.
Ode to that trippy place between asleep, and awake.
September Roses Jun 2018
Go asphyxiate yourself

On your dilusional thought of love
One day you'll find the one

And all your problems will dissolve

Your happily ever after

The true perfect match
that you cant spend a waking hour without dreaming of how much they mean to you

Grow old with
Every second of your life as long as you both shall live

Scrap book with and share vows of love
Love
   Love

Your fairy tail ending with your Cinderalla and Prince Charming

Search for the eternal solution to loneliness

Your soulmate
     Your other half

True love will set you free


Is that right?



Go **** yourself
September Roses May 2018
Does my life want to end itself
I know I'm not one to have these thoughts given a bubbly personality
But every day it seems my life drifts farther from reality
I cry
I scream
      to no one

Maybe if they find me leaking out the back of my skull
They will look back to find signs they know would tell
But there were no signs
I'm that good


Every waking moment tests my grip
As my eyes twitch my mind slips

I've lived a life of shattered smiles
Broken songs
****** up lies
But I put back the pieces so well every morning no one can tell
I'm that good
For all worried
I'll tell you don't worry
It's just poetic
Tom Spencer May 2018
drinking coffee
on my front porch

listening to the
doves wake up

a plaintive coo
sounds from the oak

and after a pause
a wavering echo

from the elm
and then another

in the distance
almost drowned out

by the highway din
I drift away

now I am back
and I wait

but the conversation
has ended

gray dawn light seeps
through the trees

my cup has grown
cold and empty


Tom Spencer © 2018
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