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Sky Nov 2014
Frown upon my withered heart!
and wipe away my tears.
Catch the nightmares, catch my dreams,
ensnare my childish fears.

Protect me, Catcher, put me down
and watch me sleep to-day.
the worries they encase me,
my dream’s the price I pay.

The morning comes unfiltered
the cycle is broken for now
Oh Catcher! my Catcher!
My faithful night snatcher!
Laid a kiss on my wavering brow.
I love my dreamcatcher
Lazhar Bouazzi Jul 2018
The first thing I saw early this morning
When I pulled back the light green curtains
Was a hectic blue 'n orange butterfly
Wavering in the fair sun of my garden -
'tween the enclosed well and the laurel tree.

On a sidewalk, red and radiant,
Strutted two maidens together,
A turquoise skirt wore the one,
A chocolate T-shirt the other.

Jubilant they were together,
As the cadence of their laughter
Waved in the air like Tunisian silk.

No harvest did my screen display today,
No mountain range did loom far in the distance;
All that was shown were a laughing sidewalk,
And a quivering sun in a small garden.

(c) LazharBouazzi
CK Baker Jan 2017
leg on the table
you red face recruit!
put on the offensive
and break down
the bolted door
you are the soul saver
the peddle maker
the calibrator
with colored handbills
and front line
rhetoric

join the masquerade
in ivy league style!
politicking with
cunning guile
invisalign smile
blackened vile
bleeding the funnel
with gold plate omegas
and crocodile shoes

get on stage
and dance you fool!
you are the headline maker
the pantomime juggler
the compromised closer
pull out that 5 page review
(bullet points only please)
and polish those weathered lines

did you give it your all?
the door tags
and pleasantries
the tidings
and clippings
the irrevocable claims
and postured blames
all the impressionable basics
put to the test?

you know the call
(straight from
those cold academics)
the pie chart gurus
and contract killers
(complete with bone in finger)
whipping their
frenzied crew
in an all night
charade

old yellar
and the gatekeeper
sure seem amused
(sharpening their inquest
behind closed doors)
firing up the **** storm
with hostile ******
and a slew
of insatiable
cures

there’s laughter from the back room
the dripping nose
and wavering hand
the cut white lines
and checkpoint tales
the pipeline romance
and lacking form
(of a basic essential
character!)

soundboard
and narratives
for logging time
slouching on the
steel case
over moot points
ready to play
the 3 weight
butter card
(if need be)

might I remind you
it’s only an inquiry
(with a slight hint of concern)
surely no
malfeasance
or deception intended
so step back from
the melt down
and cut to the chase!

headlines to breadlines
penthouse to outhouse
those immoral pursuits
have taken their toll
(haven’t they?)
madman or rogue
(you take your pick)
for the scores
and tabulations
are final

shame on you
for the foul play
the bold hypocrisy
and order desk games
the back stabbing blames
and spurious names
just sign on the dotted line...
this banter
is killing me
Knit Personality Dec 2014
The wicked wind, it whips the snow,
And howls a bent and wavering tone,—
   A long, drawn-out moan,—
A blue-note hoarse and full of woe.

* .
karin naude Mar 2013
the covenant
a precious reminder of gods enduring love
never wavering always the same
each generation
constant and faithful
written in in ancient language of the stars
upheld by blood
not black on white
birth is the seal
the contract cannot be void
even in death
responsibility , accountability follows
a shadow watching, recording every mistake, every achievement
humans cannot keep there word, god always keep
punishment is sure
only saved by repentance
heavenly beings lost touch with the true source
became earthly citizens
pitch black god8 Apr 2018
”good night, good travels, pitch black”

depending on how one counts,
cause size matters,
do have I
one small blessing


though little do I get, more-less,
in each twenty four measuring cup,
when the sleep gas has come-for-inhaling,
lidded heavy with greatful/tearful anticipation,
it’s less than sixty seconds till
dispatched to where all poems
plead like unborn angels for
good parentage

the spoken good night ritual signaled and completed
with a perfect half turn skating axel onto ones side,
preceded by, a single solid smacking of
an innocent but flaccid, equally tired pillow,
then lost in pitch black galaxy travels
with other sleep-drunk little princes

instead of the wavering, singular word,
a traditional goodnight,
a parting and a haling simultaneous mumbling issuing,
undebated and a wish shot to all within dream-shot, a title,

“good travels”

to places where ferment the aging words under
the winemakers watchful caring eyes opening,
names or titles, same difference, for the newborn babes
bekka walker Jul 2016
I've fiercely rejected the monotonous
monogamous
mainstream
madness,
for a forest of lovers.
I've asked for a bouquet of boys freshly cut beaming above my bedside table.
Spruced alongside sprinkles of sensual femininity offering scintillating chatter as I slip asleep.
As I am many galaxies in one girl,
giving myself can be quite gaudy;
One wooer would soon wither away under such wavering weathers.
Cindra Carr Feb 2012
Wastelands of dry parched nothingness
Forced pursuit of pale mirages filled with life
Wavering brinks of relief in the scorching heat
Washed away life of golden liquid
Dehydrated stumbles in the dreaming darkness
Faded taste of malicious lies
Water in feverous dreams
Dried up mouth in waking sleep

cc071211
LexiSully Jan 2017
She looks up,
Tears swelling in her eyes,
And looks into his,
Searching for a reason to hold out hope

She delays just a moment-
Waiting for a sign,
A wavering tear,
A slight gesture,
One word to make her worries disappear

She's hoping he will fight for her,
Dang it.

But instead, she walks away,
Stronger than ever,
Cradling a broken heart.
Wondering the evening stillness
We left the bluebell beds
And the sculptured wooden rose
To trample the wearing pathway
Down to the campus amphitheater.

A patch of daylight brought the party
To look upwards where transparent rope
Made a crossing of wavering sun beams
A celebration of Art Installations with an
unexpected rhyme.

Downwards the plateau, a semicircle of grass
Melts into July’s empty classroom of books
As wasted writing and hours of hot fluttering
In a breeze with discarded wineglasses and cups
Await the sound of trumpets and a golden crown.

Love Mary ***
Marta C Weeks Jun 2017
The mind
when immersed in memories
of yesterday carried by
hopes of tomorrows
and thoughts that like stones
on the surface of a lake
skip from feeling to heart
tracing ripples of emotions
as from nature's beauty
to the smallness of self
is a universal totality
brushing wind over water
to wave onto shore
a life that lost on Earth
helps grow the next wave
that reaches beyond
into the horizon
where some go to sleep
while others wake
are born or take last breath
to be born again
matters not if the sun shines
or the moon reflects on its surface
glass only gives back
the reality of what is
not what one wants
the universal blanket
over and under
above and below
into time on end
not wavering not changing
to accommodate humanity
sustains eternity
what was and what will be
wishing to be more
is as a mere leaf that falls
over an oak seed on its bank
majestic in the passing
before and after us
is where we take part
of forever

Marta
06/01/2017
I edited.:
Restless, my eyes are turning
As I'm running from them.
I'm not one soul, I'm vulnerable, their
Noose was fit for me, do I take it? Or do I
Bleed? Again, another day; one more rhyme.
One more night envelopes me, addressed to the
Wavering pupils I cannot contain. Save me, I scream;
but they don't hear me. And even though
I cut them open, they still don't fear me----
J J Oct 9
sun fades to dawn;
sky blushed,cerise to maude
I'd love to live a day
in your mind, I'd stay
              starstruck in the mirror

but there is nothing here to reflect,
  only our eyes to record. Your teeth dissect
apple slices and shape a smile.
I love your eyes, I love how they forecast the sky

   wavering,blossoming in slow motion
and carving a sleekit masterpiece that parodies the ocean.

I could stay like this forever, imbued in
     beautiful silence, your beautiful presence;
I've no hesitance to let the time float by
   around us, by your side I feel safer than ever.
imo Sep 2018
twelve back at twenty
hungry hands and dirtier words
wavering affection that wont stay long

ten back at eighteen
none ice cold nor lazy scowl
can it grow when the lights aren’t on?
what is this math *******
CK Baker Oct 30
it wasn't as though he shoulda seen it coming
(God knows he muddled through that one well enough)
and it wasn't as though he thought it in the bag
(the whole **** thing had always seemed ****** daunting)
but these now recurring tasks
and pop-up commitments
were wavering him
a great big pain the ***
burdensome, machine like
lacking, of any particular meaning

now there was that element of perserverence
that he had read and lectured on (oh, how he had lectured on and on!)
but he was not fully accustomed
(having flown on a wing and a prayer)
to the shattered routines
and fallen plans
obligatory iterations
and post-mortem like sessions
(seemed easier to stack em up, and
shelve em in a somewhat manageable way)

but a rhythm evolved
in simple momentum, and truth
new plateaus, and revelations
transformative unfoldings
and cosmic events
(which appeared as gifts from above)
and they paved a path to growth

eyes opened, to the wonders of the world!
a grounding in an earthly connection
narratives reclaimed
adjustments made
faith, and fellowship
first steps, compromise
and gratitude
filling the center stage
(in kaleidoscope colour!)
in this glorious
and ever evolving
play of life

~

was it worth it old friend?
you bet your *** it was
Carter Ginter Sep 2017
Through hell's flames and god's rage
We swam our way through the burning insanity
Your wavering patience and lasting perseverance
Engulfed the darkness in an icy flame
Pushing us forward and uniting our strength
Darling you are everything
From the air I breathe to
The shooting stars I see so constantly

I will slave forever to accomplish your forgiveness
Though I will never comprehend how you'd willingly release it
But i promise you I am yours
Because your unnerving energy pulls me in to where
I begin to question everything
But you are worth every possible risk:
My heart belongs to you
and it will not be missed
avalon Apr 2018
it was a grey wednesday morning, and i was sitting at my desk, too tired to stand but too rattled to fall back asleep.
the wavering morning light slips through the blinds and thin stripes of sunshine run along the carpet. how strange, i remember thinking, that this is beautiful to me.
looking back, i know why it was beautiful. sunlight, even through blinds, is bright. and it’s warm.
then, i didn’t know warmth was a commodity, or that i should have been savoring the light; holding onto its rays; devouring its heat.

back then, i didn’t know a lot of things.
Sally A Bayan Mar 15
In the garden, a soft-bodied plant thrives,
through sun, wind and rain, it survives,
among  asparagus ferns, it proudly lives,
contrasting its purple triangular leaves
against greens...its lightest of pink blossoms
waltz with the wind, in their fragile freedom,
almost white to blurry eyes
wavering...but, they never hide
raised high above the grass
like ladies proudly poised, with so much class...

a small white butterfly suddenly blends in,
deceivingly perched upon the pinks
but the sound of the camera's clicking
sends it immediately fleeing...
to and fro, the blossoms are swaying
reeling from the wind....wailing
over the sudden flight of their lover
waiting, for a new winged creature
on their purple bodies, to perch, to hover
alas,
....life is short...........never fair...
....and so are some...love affairs....
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sal­ly

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
March 15, 2019
Jack Jenkins Jul 5
just a brick out of the wall
a pebble falling down a hillside
a raindrop in the levy
a whisper of wavering trust
and im on my knees
waiting to see who will win
my faith
or
my shotgun
//On depression and anxiety//
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