Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jordan Rowan Mar 2016
It was down in California
Where the light hurt my eyes
I couldn't hear my thoughts or find a reason why
It was down in Louisiana
Where all my friends were now
When something went black and escaped into the south

So I went into the city
Of whatever state I'm in
I can't tell if it's New Orleans or if I'm drunk again
I buried all my secrets
In a tarnished leather book
At which only me and the universe can look  

Thank god for himself
For he's given me pain
And if it's someone else
You can erase them with blame

So I jumped into a truck
Driven by border clerks
But halfway down to Mexico, I knew this wouldn't work
They had it in for laughs
At the expense of broken hearts
I know they meant no harm but they were tearing me apart

The flag above my head
Only made me feel sick
Someone tried to sell me love but I knew it was a trick
But when the sun finally fell
And the stars shined on me
I understood what people meant when they told me I was free
s May 2018
The kisses get ******,
*** follows routine.
The dishes pile up,
waiting to be cleaned.
There are six fresh eggs
to be cracked and framed,
while the washing machine sings
its closing tune, unnamed.
Tea comes to a boil,
toasts drizzled with honey.
Geyser's warming up
the yolks are runny.
Breakfast at midday
and dinner's a supper
who's keeping time
when Sunday comes over.
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2018
When does our weekend begin
Time flies in contemplation.
The day ends, quick to start.
Belittling how the nights are not the same.
Caught in thought.
The laughs that start soon as I see you.
Things that occupy time until the next time.
Again becoming a past time.
The season changes in a matter of days.
The weekend still so far.
The human heart a mystery.
Full of affection. Restrained throughout the week.
Fond with anticipation.
To see you, to feel you.
The embrace of like minds melting in the torch of where we dwell most.
The week becoming longer and longer.
When can my heart beat it's fullest.
Running away with every throb.
Taking you further and further away from where we have to come back.
When does our weekend begin.
Holiday included, extended weekend.
Seeing you smile.
The weekend is near
Tommy Randell Dec 2016
The bed is too short for a lie-in
The wife's dog owns the settee
There's a sun lounger out in the garage
But it's winter and 7 degrees

I can hear at least 4 kinds of music
A muted electric guitar
There's a scream like a broken Jet engine
That's the wife reversing the car

My son and his mates had a late night
I can smell beer and left-over curry
The kitchen will look like a bomb-site
Which won't get cleaned up in a hurry

The heating has just gone into turbo
Yes, there's someone else in the shower
Any minute now the alarm will go off  … 'cos
I've been awake nearly two hours

It is the usual Saturday
Believe me I've been here before
It can make me tired and grumpy
And that's not what Saturdays are for ...

Two hours later and I'm startled!
Oh, I must have dropped off
There's an ominous silence around me
Like the whole spinning world has just stopped

I know they have gone out to be busy
The last thing they want is to rest
Gone shopping, breakfast or lunching
Leaving the old man to rot and the kitchen a mess

Me and the wife's dog we'll go walkies
Skim a few stones on the sea
He'll meet a few dog pals and eat a dead fish
And sit quietly down by my feet

On the way home we might call for a pint
Meet up with the lads and de-stress
I might even text with my love to the wife
Hoping her day is filled with success

Your favourite dinner I'll tell her
Tinned Pie, French fries and beans
And she will reply with a little red heart
And you know what that normally means

Plenty of time though to clean up the Kitchen
Detox the hallway, and sit on the Loo
And time left over for some sport on the telly
And a bottle of Cider or … Three!

It is my usual Dad-Friendly Saturday
With it's uptake on free-time and space
And tomorrow my wife will get her turn
And Her Sunday can take pride of place

She can cook dinner and Hoover
Catch up with her Soaps to her heart's content
I'll wander off to see the lads at the pub
And compare how our Saturdays went

Tommy Randell    01st December 2016
Our freedom is impinged not by an overabundance of information but by a lack of factual moderation which is ubiquitous and infringing upon us as individuals. [What follows was a week's worth of prose]:

I should become something, I'm fed up.
I would be more than their judgement,
Have at a better life.
Could be anything,
Could be the next unabomber,
Could be the last bartender,
Coulda a patriot; but
don't patronize me.

A problem with law is in the application of 'justice'
we sometimes forget the human, a being
who feels and may understand,
With potential just as you
or I have; so some compassion
is not much to ask.

****** into
these life choices,
This lack of liberty
no one should acquiesce to.
Well played
Generation X,
I've no hope for Y
anymore. Perhaps
we can divert Gen Z,
Spark the counterculture
and hope they’ll be free.
Freedom starts with a mindset, liberty is respecting
the law and letting it reflect the right to privacy.

Some of us just like to seem secretive, not me though, I have all sorts of things to hide.
Ashari Ty Jul 2018
My sweet, sweet Sunday, you made me write
Unending ***** of November breeze
Your afternoon is filled with delight
Incandescence of an orange bliss

Saturday's past and will be forgotten
Sunday's solitary is very bright
Monday's mediocre; five out of ten
Today's sunset is forever in sight

A weekend that should last eternally
But why do the nights just fall so quickly?
TGISunday :>
Out of sight out of mind,
A saying that seems to be underrated,
Thought mostly about objects of disgust or stress,
And since I've objected to being anything more than an object,
This categories fits my life,
Even when acting like a faulty car part; the check engine light remains being of little concern,
"I'll just drive till it dies"
It's just the cost isn't worth it,
with all the time we spend in it,
Eventually the light turns off,
No rhyme or reason just the decision to love unconditionally...
Or the
The car dies used
annh Jan 26
skidding down the slopes
of a Friday afternoon
deadlines looming fast
my rickety toboggan
- clattering alarmingly -
navigates the final run
and with a sharp turn
delivers me sweaty-arsed
but still in one piece
to the door of my weekend
at six on the dot
5-7-5-7-7|7-5-7|5-7-5
Nat Lipstadt May 2013
Three Minute Warning

A messenger delivers
A three minute warning
As I lay in bed at 10:30 am
(Resting in preparation for,
not from, our oops, early morning hike).

Breakfast will be ready in 3,
Get your **** in gear or else
It will be cold, I'll be mad,
And you will answer to a
Higher Authority.

No problem cause I already know
All I need is two.

Splash water on my face
Now I'm presentable
enough to the human race,
current company probably won't be happy,
But I ain't telling her, are you?

Shave! You crazed?
It is a three day weekend,
Every day a July Fourth,
Celebrating freedom from the European tyranny,
Of shaving smooth  every day!

Splash water on my head, count with me,
Five brush strokes as you can plainly see
Is a classic case of overcompensating
In my geling n' hair stylin'

Brush my teeth, well,
I hope 2 full minutes of rinsing with  CVS
Green stuff, mouthwash, will have to suffice.

Blast my deodorant both sides,
Long and strong, wearin' now
My bold blue *** husk of musk,
Cause I am a very considerate fellow
Who happens to really have stunk.

Clean T- shirt and shorts,
Yes, clean underwear too,
Leaves me a whole minute to write this scribble.

My flip flop noises coming down the hallway,
Are the butler announcing our joint arrival,
Me and my poem.

Lest you think this is paean to men
Another grand male boast,
Be advised this ditty be writty
By a man who, while no longer gritty,
Just put jelly on his scrambled eggs
And ketchup on his toast!

Mmmmmmm there might be a poem
Lurking in that too...
Sigh, a true story.
Cné Aug 2017
"Humpday" has arrived
and Thursday is looming.
"Happy Hour" now beckons
and business is booming.

So, go with your friends
belly up to the bar
But make sure someone else
takes you home in your car.

Two days till the weekend,
and a lifeline's relief.
But don't get caught loafing
or your job may be brief.
Happy **** Day
I bet y'all thought I was going **** with this. XD
Anfal May 3
And I remember when I met him, it was so clear that
he was the only one for me.
We both knew it, right away.
And as the years went on, things got more difficult --
we were faced with more challenges.
I begged him to stay. Try to remember what
we had at the beginning. He was charismatic, magnetic,
electric and everybody knew it. When he walked in
every woman's head turned, everyone stood up
to talk to him. He was like this hybrid, this mix of
a man who couldn't contain himself.
I always got the sense that he became torn
between being a good person and
missing out on all of the opportunities that life could
offer a man as magnificent as him.
And in that way I understood him
and I loved him.
I loved him, I loved him, I loved him.
And I still love him.
I love him.
L B Dec 2017
A beer can, phone book, a grapefruit
and an Advent wreath
with four candles
in its nest of greens
Two weeks
Two lit
Third one's the Pink
a life three quarters spent?

Next weekend
Saturday-- The Sabbath
falls in Hanukkah

“Blessed art thou, Lord our God
King of the universe
who dost create lights of fire...”

I'll light that third-- the pink one
like a barbarian wise woman
who traveled too far along life's way
to find a Jewish baby, wrapped in rags

...or, was it the old guy that night
lying in the street
outside a New England bar

“Oh Christ! Ya gotta be kidding me!”

Nope, He was there alright

Wallowing in the freezing slush
amid his helpless drunken cries
No cell phones then
Scrapped my pizza plans

On foot alone
waving in frustration  
in the passing headlights
a turquoise, wind-crazed scarecrow
_

“Someone's gotta stop?
Someone has to help us, don't they?”
_

Now there are two beer cans
a grapefruit, and a phone book
beside the advent wreath

Third candle lit and leaning out
for hope along the way
In memory of--
Louise McDermott, my daughter's godmother who gave us the Advent wreath.
and Joannie Handleman, my best buddy in music and crime who taught me her family's traditions  and Yiddish expressions.
m May 27
my weekend
of insanity
begins to blend
in my soul of vanity

From friday
to tonight
i fell prey
to my soul's bite

i dealt with
the scream
in my mind
when a dream
was all i wished to find

the going was rough
but the pain
was put to *****
and began to drain

this weekend i survived
the insanity
from which it derived
has hopefully brought back my humanity
insanity
Antino Art Aug 2018
maybe the buildings are hollow,
occupied only in facade on the first floor of storefronts

maybe this whole town is a hologram
of neon against puddles
on the pavement.

maybe the citizens are ghosts
floating by
in circles, or squares of city blocks,
around a routine,
or droning through on electric scooters
as if on muted theme park rides
to the next sensory diversion;
to the nearest gastronomical pleasure;
toward the weekend and its next party
celebrating the loss of time,
I see their tired faces

staring out from the glass
of coffeeshop windows
on every block.
I see their piles of beer cans
beside the trash chute.
I hear them singing
on *****-cruises to nowhere

What part of this cycle
that turns days into dust
moves us closer to heaven?

What feast from what new restaurant downtown
will feed our souls?

From which lonely night do we finally emerge
beside the one
whose presence fills
these hollow buildings
to the top-most floors?

Which of the empty lots
between us do we fill
with a conversation
about how this is all a dream,
or how we'll keep each other awake
on a bench
beneath a street lamp before dawn
waiting for the first bus to take us home.
Aden Aug 31
Woke up and a feel rough
Lord knows that a drank enough
In way past midnight
Looking out to the day light
Need to rebuild my energy
Cuppa t is the remedy
When a man's from Yorkshire
No milk is torture
Wanna go back to bed
Have a nap like im dead
Had too much whisky
Scotch is always risky
Then was drinking red wine
Deffo not fee ling fine
"Goes to my heaaaaad"
Is an under statement
My head fell off on the pavement

Never wanna drink again tell me what you think again now I wanna start again shoulda smoked the reef instead


Now I really need hydration
Or maybe migration
Did i say something bad
Did I make someone mad
Woke up and I feel rough
Lord knows that I drank enough
Clearly have a hangover today.
Lydia Sep 2018
after we have *** or you and I lay all over each other all weekend,
I can still smell you on my clothes and in my hair and on my skin
I always tell you that you smell like home, you smell like my Ben,
there is a comfort in the lingering of you,
even when were apart, you still find ways to leave traces of you behind
Naomi Sa'Rai Aug 2012
Yes we held hands
Sure we kissed
{The weekend we were in love}
Simple gazes
Moment filled bliss
{The weekend we were in love}
Soft lips turned to smile
Strong arms held me for a while
{The weekend we were in love}
Weak laughs covered
Sensitive conversations of the night
{The weekend we were in love}
Playful feet comforted icy ones
{The weekend we were in love}
Discussed serious matters
Talked about everything and nothing
{The weekend we were in love}
Never said never
Thought we'd live forever
One another is also two people put together
{Whenever you fall in love}
Murray
annh Feb 23
Ah - the weekend!
Time to open my emotional closet,
Have a good rummage around,
And find something we both can wear.
‘Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.’
- Robert Frost
Ash Aug 2018
I've been looking for you in each stranger,
Each blue eye with sand hair makes me turn,
Each musical note I play is a reminder of your name,
I often forget to distinguish my voice from yours though this mics
I said I'll be strong but mama I miss you.

I guess blood is thicker than time than death since,
Each eye on this arena feels like yours
Every time I give life to this fiction characters
I hear your laugh,feel you cringe,
Each attempt to hide from this paps,
Feels like a carbon copy of yours,only with a failed attempt
I said i'll be strong but mama I miss you.

It's been a decade,I want to lie i'm stronger/mature i'm not
I still ball over and cry sometimes,especially days like this,
I still let them in even though you warned me about naivety,
I still shy away from the life you and dad gave us,
I know I said i'll be strong but mama I miss you.

I have loads of questions,so I ask the siblings you gave me,
Hoping they asked the same questions to you,
Hoping they pour your knowledge to me,
I watch  you,how you were,so beautiful so young,
I know I said i'll be strong but mama I miss you.

I've tried been good,
Though this creepy's make the search engine say am not,
I want to talk about your old man and your boys,
Right now though I'll be a little selfish because,
I know I said i'll be strong but mama I miss you.
I'm a dreamer
but I don't sleep at night,
I spend that time bringing my dreams to life;
Chemical enhancement makes me want to give it,
Vivid moments, surreal kisses.

This silence speaks to me when no one's around,
Intuition and nostalgia making subtle sounds.

The weekend calls out my name,
The feel's in the air
and I'm game.

Found beauty
lost in the bass,
Let it kick,
Off my face.
Beauty, the bass
(and class As).
slay Sep 2018
Green tea chillin
Coolin like some villains
Feet on your dash
Hit a dab and we’re trippin
Ridin round bumpin “I pull up with a lemon”
And not cause he. Ain’t livin
But it’s a lowkey type feelin
And I might just catch feelings
Cause I’m in love with myself Nd
U have my image

***** dancing in the mirror
With my jewel toned lover
Wanna please you in the summer
Hot like the Bahamas
Fenty glowin in this heat
Sipping on guava
Don’t get me goin in this heat
Cause imma need a breather

Said lemme hit the ******
Ex flame wildin out
I knew he’d never keep her
Ex flame, cross his heart
I cut that Eddie scissors
Cuz I’m the Queen *****
The big b *****
The big bag wolf got his tail between his knees, *****
Go hard in the paint
Michelangelo his dreams, *****
And my chapel’s pristine
Don’t know who the **** Sistine is

But we’re green tea chillin
It’s a vibe, it’s a feelin
It’s a whole new way of livin
And we always make a killin
Got the summer stacks flowin
Bitty ***** always glowin
All my girls are wing-hoein
Some try to copy what I’m after

Don’t know who you tryna front always talkin louder
I got all my ******* tasting sweet and never sour
Eat it like Chiquita open her up like a flower
When I’m with Nikita we go rounds by the hour
I caresss her in the shower
She’s the smartest ***** I know, her tongue got superpowers
She don’t hit me all that frequent
But she knows that I mean it
When I tell her imma get it she gon feed when I’m eatin
She don’t give a **** if I slide for the weekend
Can I pick you up and take you out this evening?

Next time I see you gimme sugar
It’s proven therapeutic when you’re too nice with it and you look good in it
But better without it, so keep it unbuttoned
Only thing under wraps is our sensual lovin

Wait, did you cop wraps?
nottttr finisheddddd *sampled*
Next page