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Kara Jean Mar 2017
Walking backwords
A world familiar
Now old
Wise and not so simular
The harshness is now kisses
The misunderstood was meant to be good
I'm traveling the same road in a different wardrobe
Midnight Sun Aug 2018
She
       wore moonlight
        in her hair
           Softly attached shade
       of shimmering silver
        with blue tint
    aroused the night Jasmine
to touch her whole
mind to body _
body to soul
~
The oasis of poetry
conquered her eyes
  with reality
of love _

imagination to art.
      ~
Now she paints love  
on the canvas
of her skin
where she wears
her heart
imperfectly. ...
Can't  you see
the painted pain
in poetry ?_

~
Loser Dec 2018
I wore my fathers shoes to a funeral today.

It took me sixteen years to get to a point where I could walk in them and truly say that they were a perfect fit.

It took me sixteen years to get to a point where I finally understood the senselessness  of death and the preciousness of life

It took me sixteen years to feel the gravity of death wrapping around my blissful yet ignorant heart, pulling me down to the knowledge of reality.

It took me sixteen years to not just know, but comprehend the fact that my time will pass me.

It took me sixteen years to learn all of these lessons, and now that I have I can start to live a life.
Lazhar Bouazzi Jul 2018
The first thing he saw early this morning
When he pulled back the light green curtains
Was a hectic blue 'n orange butterfly
Wavering in the fair sun of his 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 his 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
Madison Sep 2018
She needed to be saved,
But her Prince was nowhere in sight.
So she forged her sword and wore her armor.
She slayed the dragon and any who dared cross her.
Soon she was more feared then any Dragon or man.
the provocative dress i wore tonight

made you wonder if i wore it for you

i could feel your stare the whole night

watching as my body flowed

underneath the fluorescent lights

you noticed all my details

how i held my drink in my hand

how deep my curves were

how all the men in the club,

were doing the same as you

the one thing you all failed to notice

is what i hid underneath

you all failed to see the scar above my lip

and the fact that i chew my nails too often

and the purple galaxies that litter my skin,

under the confines of my dress
Deb Jones Jan 2
Taking off my worn cloak
I wore you well this past year
There wasn’t much
That we didn’t handle
While I wore you as my mantle
I fold you up
All patched and thin
Farewell my old friend
I won’t forget the comfort
You enveloped me in

My new cloak feels a little awkward
Most fledglings do
Still I am homesick...
Goodbye 2018
Cindra Carr Jul 2011
Sweet Salacious Sally was a special girl.
Long and lean, Sal wore pearls and kept a blackjack in her purse.
Shiny and bright, Sally was doing all right.

Sweet Sally rode up to my house on her jet black hog.
When Sally came by, attention was paid and the game was on.
It was time to play so I slid up behind her.
Last looks left the neighbors gawking.
Sweet Salacious Sally was a special girl.

cc063011
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
Once were two young maidens who both wore smiles,
but they were sadly separated.
Years later they became friends once again, but life had shaped their names.
Anxiety and Trauma both very much alike.
Anxiety bit her nails and Trauma did as well.
Trauma rocked back and forth, and Anxiety did too.
Over time they both dropped subtle hints saying they were not okay.
Anxiety went to therapy, and so did Trauma.
Trauma had a breakdown, Anxiety also did.
The difference lays within their fears.

"I'm so very terrified of the future..." Anxiety began, "You get it though, right?"

Trauma shrugged, "I guess I do," she paused, "but it's the past that makes me break."

The two girls looked at each other, realizing they knew nothing about one another.
In regards to my friend who is so similar to me, but with such a different past, and future.
Bison Apr 2016
Maybe life will be everything I thought it was.
Maybe this ain't the escape I dreamt of once.
I need to slow down, maybe say, "pause".
Take the reins, pull over these lost thoughts.

It gets better. It gets better.
I wear my mood like the weather.
It gets better.
Right now, Fall is my favorite sweater.
Bright orange reminds of the day I first met her.

True colors finally show just before the snow
Shoulders shrug before they get cold
I should've known.
I wore my coat to postpone fresh grown sorrow. I should've known.

And I'm thinking back to Summer's plenty
Forgetting the day she left me
And the way it blessed me
Now I'm drunk with my feet up, breathing in real serenity.
Becca Lansman Nov 2017
no
I do not know how to say no.

I am so tired of being
Left open
Bleeding on the sidewalk.
Staining the white carpet
Staining my new lace ******* I wore just for you.

Don’t you know you are only good for one thing? Don’t you know you are only worth something when I want you?  When my **** is hard?

My body: a piece of raw meat for you to devour like a hungry dog.

To be a woman is to never ask for dessert even if you want it.

I have etched these words into my skin, bled them out, swallowed them with no water.

Yes, yes, yes, smile, smile, smile.

I was never taught to say no.

I am so tired of being treated less human and more dinner buffet.

so tired


All I can say is *yes,
One day I will depart the train at a station without a name,
Pull emergency cord and take the plunge thru parted doors.
I'll pack no suitcase or bindle, in my head young, free and single,
I will be a living swindle - wherefore art prat poet of before?
New job doing something I've shown no interest in before,
Change my name to 'Neville Moore'.

I'll do a Reginald Perrin, leave red herring threads at Sherring-
ham, then dice-rolled palookaville of new self I shall explore.
When Palookas call me Neville, they won't see this wasted rebel,
But numpty Neville, on the level, who misplaced his wasted days of yore.
Amnesiac clerk stoical over mist-shrouded days of yore.
Only knew my name was Neville Moore.

Neville will moonlight at night-school, pick up a trade that's practical,
In minimalist digs post-dossing on unforeseen saviour's floor.
Time's sandstorm obscures lyrics, John Doe-penned hieroglyphics
- lost soul Lysander's from Norwich. His mind shut like a shoved closed drawer
To Poesy's Pandora's box of ******* in indigo iron drawer
In Norwich. No bones to Neville Moore.

Neville will be a straight arrow, nice chap whose mind is narrow,
Tepid tryer temping at call-centre, lockjaw forevermore.
The blandest of mystery men, what was Neville's name again?
Man with no memories blends in; my dead ringer, stunky, strong-jawed.
Eye-witness testimony of 36 years will gladly be abjured
- done myself good deed poll: Neville Moore.

I'll  abscond so left Lysander might be eternal loose end, the
Inner poltergeist confined to an indigo iron drawer.
Tomorrow I'll do a John Stonehouse bog-snorkelling, a grandiose
loser who fled being infamous in his own dinnerhour, a bore
Unto myself.  I'll abandon ship,  then life will be less of a bore,
Being much more boring Neville Moore.

And I'll meet a girl called Sybil, Palookashire an idyll,
Where a man with no past can just wash up upon the shore.
For if child is father of the man, Neville'll be an upbeat orphan!
Labels torn off the clothes from Oxfam what Memory's Outlaw wore,
Newfoundhometownbound Mister X such clueless clothes wore,
Clean the pockets of Neville Moore.

Sybil won't be the type to probe, at night she'll pop her Zopiclone,
Cuddle up to normal Neville, earnest the embrace of average amour.
We will rent a little bedsit and expend a lotta effort
To make our place seem white-picket-fenced, tho'  we resided on 3rd floor.
Down updrafts of Fate, untempted to faceplant from the 3rd floor
Is plain ol' sane ol' Neville Moore. 

No temptation, but something racing, the unexplained midnight pacing,
And murmurs in Nev's sleep there's reams in an indigo iron drawer.
But in daylight we'll have daughter, from nowhere the name 'Cobania'
(Nev wouldn't dig Nirvana, fin de siecle scream's aural chore,
nihilistening not for Neville in zen of playful household chores).
Shrug-a-lugs of numb Neville Moore.

Neville wouldn't get promotion, Neville doesn't have much gumption.
Frankenstein's **** domesticus by design, Nev's a swollen snore.
Lice would have mocked, 'Call this living?' Lice is dead, would always give in
To windmills' wheeling withering, watched like a raven, set no store
In what life we have worth living, which is what life life has in store
For unquestioning Neville Moore. 

Neville, don't be snarling ***** to snafus by another self made,
Be complete now the only piece is the missing piece of the jigsaw.
Radio receives no 'roger', they won't see Cobania as a toddler,
But for famalam, there's succour: lines left in indigo iron drawer.
For Lice did leave literally living will in indigo iron drawer:
Poem entitled Neville Moore.

Nev and Sybil will have ups and downs, in facades cracks gouge frowns;
Castaway's fury in his eyes curdles Florida coleslaw.
I don't need Sybil's mithering, I mean 'Nev' dint, thinking about writing
- did we do Jack Nicholson in 'The Shining', too nuts too soon in Neville Moore?
Polter-Lice rattling in indigo iron liar's den re Neville Moore's 
Writer's shock swan-song for Neville Moore.

And sweet phantom Cobania, I hope she ends up saner
than her Canoe Man old man, sent reeling by subconscious southpaw
Of split personality punch-ups,  one-man-band fight clubs,
punchdrunk on bad self burps, tho' he burped Cobania with awe.
Pneumatically patting doting dad, errant soon so overawed
By humdrum Heaven, Neville Moore's.

Witness protection program to hide me from self-hate's hitman,
But Miltonic Satan's heart held ****, for killer within is law
Unto himself. Thus phoenix photo album of my alter ego
To ***-end before Year Zero was burnt down, act of soul at war.
Greener grass scorched earth, everyman Eden sacked by selves at war,
Lysander negging out Neville Moore.

His ship's sailed ment'lly down the toilet - can't see the dream, it's ultraviolet!
Sybil wagging her finger with ****** of a fishwives' wappenshaw.
Cobania's cantankerous tween, Nev hears fin de siecle scream
- call the toilet 'Kurt', it's flushing the dream! Behold:  tombstone beneath 
                                                        ­    a sycamore,
Man from nowhere nowhere now beneath suicide's sycamore.
Quoth the engraving, 'Neville Moore'.

Beneath me to quote Ocean Colour Scene, beneath sycamore willow-leaned,
But day I caught train derailed: no malaise of glory, Anon no more.
Cobania in black with ***** highlights will grieve Daddy on the quiet;
Sybil indignant that the senseless,  existential eyesore
Option all her lost-and-found, found-and-lost, haunted hubbie saw.
Quoth the engraving, 'Neville Moore'.

Nev won't see Cobania grow up: she doesn't exist - s' good job!   
Yet I'll miss driving lessons and wedding, even if shaggy dog's dewclaw
Scratched itself out, vestigial scythe: Neville was never alive.
But this 2.4, 2.0 narrative smelted indigo iron drawer.
Cenotaph recast as mask, new visage's vista dark as in a drawer
Now quoth the engraving, 'Neville Moore'.

After Poe's misnomer, well, misnumbered: one short, 17 stanzas  
Ironically encode birthday of old dud cub who overroars
Last-ditch striped leopard, tame un-me. Lord Lucan, he WAS lucky
-  there's freedom in fake ID! But Neville grew sick, sick of me no more
Now as one two selves expire, same sigh of relief 'low sallow sycamore:
Thank **** Lice is nevermore.
My birthday is 17/05.
Shine Chiong Dec 2018
The sun was gold
But nothing compared to your hair
The ink was black
But nothing compared to your eyes
The sky was blue
But nothing compared to your polo
That you always wore that I love to stare
The day was dark
But nothing compared to your favorite jeans that you always wore
And I love to stare
The tulips was pink
But nothing compared to your lips
The roses was red
Like the ones you always gave to me
Whenever I am sad
The water was plain
But nothing compared to the day
When you took one step inside the train
Everything was colorful
But nothing compared to the colors of our  love way back then.

-peanutbuttqn
Once, monster feet were all you wore,
pounding its claws upon wood floors.
Well now the beast is walking in your skin,
that you have lived, and fought them in.
How much can a human body take,
When horns pierce your skull, to keep you awake?
People say faking's profitless,
while I'm choking demons back in my esophagus.
An intervention for dented hearts,
that were beats, you wrote apart?
Do they await indented bumps,
a heart, bitter, selfishness pumps.
Alert the shadows as I bow to them,
poetic, inadequate, I lost to them.
What worthy life have I built to live,
if pain is all I know to give?
------------------------------------
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Universal Thrum Jul 2018
I'm leaving Carly's place after an all day ****** that had me convinced that paradise lay in the legs of Nate's sister wearing a unicorn onesie, and as they put on Sgt. Peppers and lay there the ****** freudian passion play overcame my capacity for archetype observation and I proceeded to walk around the room thanking everybody in that space and time for the gift of starting the **** with Nate's sister, the beat changed and they turned on me and said I needed to give her space, they all became timeless aliens traveling through time to **** and I was one of them coming online in a loop, and as long as I stayed awake I would remember and not be *****. I sat cross legged holding my friend sams hands, looking into his eyes, saying aloud we're creating the universe constructing all as the three smartest people of all time, forever throughout we died but never died, as long as we could stay awake, they all wore red and I couldn't trust any of them, I fired off mad questions and demanded to know the secrets of the universe and why woman wasn't the answer, I called up to nate to bring her down to me, and generally became a raving lunatic
      after some time of sam being soulmate and accepting him forever as my lover self same image, and also calling him **** as im ****, then channeling Brittany through him and countless other regressive exercises, we started inhaling nitrous gas, and the world became one stretched out moment
       and I kept calling out before, all the way up, as it were the secret spell with a handshake to fool the devil
         I thought Nate a mad spirit habituating this plane as a long gone failed hero plagued by the madness of wanting to **** his sister and forced to watch all his friends be aware of their own ****, so that pushed him into clowning, which he is an expert, that primal **** took me up and id taken a holy mandate to **** this beautiful creature and ascend to paradise,
when they slipped her upstairs they left her rainbow onesie, i felt heaven become another step remote and my faith tested, I resolved to be the last awake and never die, I walked up to the attic, and saw the light beaming from the window


            Sam dropped me off at the press grill so I could eat some grub,
then I met up with Tyler for a drink somewhere while he told me his story of meeting a guy in a skyline chilis bathroom drunk at 3 am, he said the guy was standing at the ****** but wasn't *******. Ty asked him if he was done and the guy put Ty in a chokehold with his pants down, according to Ty the cops came in and he was putting clean shots into the guys mug, he is contemplating leaving town before they can indict him for felonious assault, I told him Canadas nice but Venezuela doesn't have an extradition treaty, come to think of it neither does Cuba, but Ty is too proud for that probably
   anyways we meet Carly being a dancing beauty in a high falootin joint with string lights called Julep, the only reason to mention it is because as we were leaving a guy was bent over the rail vomiting and looking wretched he noticed us watching him as we smoked our cigarettes off to the side and immediately decided that he wasn't some kind of side show freak to be gawked at, he became threatening in the most base and pathetic way a human can, and his bride came to tell us to ******* with her father, father of the bride shaking my hand, we eventually left that scene and walked to Oddfellows where I saw Sam Cohan and he bought me a beer, good chap, we talked until I stepped toward Carly, Tyler and a fine looking strange *****
I touched Carly and received an awkward unmemorable introduction to the strange *****. She walked away but lurked and locked eyes with me as the evening rolled on
later Carly told me that the girl demanded to meet the guy who looks like Heath Ledger, a sure fire ****, so Carly is grinding on my **** and my backs to the bar and Tyler already got me a beer, and there I was, a pirate king
I took Carly out after the lights came on, and was going to give Tyler the run of my place, he disappeared into the night and I showed Carly my favorite smelling tree, still in bloom late July, we almost ****** on my car, until I went back to her place and we ****** until $430, rising at noon, I left telling her we had an hour to get ready to journey to Findlay for Jim's wedding
I showered and brushed my teeth and collected my suit and put it on without a tie
I picked up Carly and set out upon the road, but made a quick stop for a bite
two deaf guys ordered in front of me and the kid working the register said my glasses were cool, along the way I was telling Carly the story of how I wore make up for the first time to a middle school dance, and she said she had to *****, I didn't believe her at first until she tried to stick her head out the window half way rolled down, I managed to get it down all the way and wet streaks of human gut waste caught the wind and splattered my window
we pulled over and I went to get her some napkins to clean herself off as I squeeged the car, she tried to wipe the window with the napkins, sweet girl. The wedding started at 3:30 and we didn't have more than five minutes to spare, she found her vape pen 20 minute out as Heather started to send me worried messages, as I was set to read a passage, little did I know that I was leading off the whole affair, I arrived and was quickly rushed to meet the mothers and have a boutonnière pinned to my lapel , the women all looked stunning and I congratulated each in turn as they shoved a program in my hand, Tiffany took me through the drill, we walked up to the stage and took our places on the bench, looking out at the beautiful shining faces,


I was the only one not wearing a tie, but thats not important, I saw Jim and embraced him with all the love I could muster, he looked at me and said that he knew I would make it, that he knew that he just had to trust the flow, and I would appear in the nick of time, the pastor threw his hands in the air and welcomed the families, the mothers lit candles, and then Tiffany looked at me and said that it was my turn, I stepped up to the Beema and gazed out over the crowd, trying to summon something clever, nothing good came to mind and so I opened my mouth and said, "a reading from Genesis" and then put every fiber of my being into reminding the room that it is Gods will that we be fruitful and multiply. I'm told I slammed my hands down for emphasis and let out a hearty amen, a man's man's amen, and turned and took one giant step off the podium with two baby stairs, I gracefully flowed into the bench having averted a complete embarrassment, and then tactfully left the stage with Tiffany after her read.   Jim looked at me after mine with a nod, and I said the word strong, that read cemented my status as a star of the party, and the mojo flowed, I was called the cash guy by the hotel, for checking in as Atlantis Grosshammer, $200 depost, we drank and danced and an old lady came to me to say that I have a beautiful soul
I thanked Jim's father for helping to create my friend, and danced around bottles
the cake was good
I told Carly I always catch the brides garter, at every wedding I've ever been. I saw Jim's men assemble for his toss, I let the men come and put myself in the mix, Jim turned his back and had a misfire,
the temptation to collect it passed all of us by thankfully, and he was set to fire again, it came to me and I snatched it out of the air, cold as ice I walked off the floor only with eyes for Carly not even saying a word to Jim, I put that thing on my head and went back to Jim threw him on my shoulders and swung him around like we were in a broadway musical
two kids playing in the street,
he said its the best moment, and so it goes
ryn Feb 2015
There once was a man
Whose livelihood was rubber.
He worked long and hard; and wore a tan,
He was a plantation tapper.

One night he packed,
In haste after a long day of toil.
Quickly had his belongings all sacked
Under light from a lantern that reeked of kerosene oil.

He was ready, flame from the lantern he did ****.
Overhead, the midnight moon brightly shone.
Bound his sack to the rack above the rear wheel,
Mounted his bicycle and soon he was gone.

The dirt trail leading back,
Undulating with gravel all strewn.
Almost treacherous this forgotten track
He only relied on light from the moon.

The air was cool just like any other,
But something was different about this night.
Squinting ahead he spotted a figure.
Flagging him down was a lady in white...
To be continued...

Based on a story I heard.
1981

They came in like diseased eagles; mutated
forms of those they wore on their chest and
with the change once again in the weather,
the ZOMO swooped in to quell what was
‘wrong’, what would bring them down. They
run in the streets as well as the miners,
running for different reasons and different
aims. I look down, out my window and see
the army helmets littering the street like rats.
            Police.          Rats.
I could no longer see a difference. My father
went to work that morning. I clutch my doll
knowing the chance of seeing him again is
            Miniscule.   Poor.
There is no more cereal in the cupboard;
there is no more cereal in the shop; there is
no more shop. The ZOMO set it on fire when the word

                          Solidarity

appeared in the window.
“We are closing the border for the safety of the People”
            Incorrect.     Unjustified.
For the safety of You, the Elite.
“Nine killed in mine shooting”
Which side?
Only the ZOMO carry guns.
            Fascism.       Communism.
I could no longer see a difference
Ilion gray Mar 2014
I killed a man today
Watched as he 
passed along 
Just walking 
 The face he wore  was empty
perhaps he was happy.
I killed him
With skin , joints, and bone, crashing,
Tendons,
 ligaments ripping twisting
Pulsating vibration of strings
Mozart concerto #20,
Then...godless jumped on the Brooklyn bound L train
wandered home,
Through the cracked streets of new york city *** holes large as tiny oceans 
I leap over them, as if i were god's son, hurdling aeons.
Upon arriving home,
washed my hands clean 
of being
God spoke through the faucet
with sounds of sword and shield collapsing, glass breaking against concrete and steel the secret sound of 
His horseman riding
 That only i could hear..
Afterward
I Washed a knife and fork, 
Prepared, cooked and ate a sausage,
 skin, joints, bone, 
tendon, ground, 
Twisted,wrapped in fat
There I stood outside myself
Though my shell remained

I walked along the coastline of the forgotten 
voices,
Of those who never age.
Lazhar Bouazzi Apr 2016
The first thing I saw early this morning
When I pulled back the light green curtains
Was a hectic blue 'n orange butterfly
Waving in the fair sun of my garden -
Between the enclosed well and the laurel tree.

On the red radiant sidewalk,
Two damsels strutted 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, April 21, 2016
Ezra Yelverton Oct 2018
We were standing still, you armored in my arms.
The stage in front of us was brightly lit
but the faces around us I could not see;
we danced while the world revolving around us changed.
I whispered song lyrics in your ear and
your body language prompted me to hold you closer.
So, I did.
For a moment I was sure you were in bed with me
because the air around me smelled of you.
Lost in your fragrance,
I didn’t notice the scene around us change.
Even in a new setting the only person
my eyes could adjust to was you.
Beautiful Woman.
You turned to face me and lay your head gently on my chest.
All while I wore a coy smile.
I felt your hand on the back of my neck
as you raised to the tip of your toes to kiss me.
Just before our lips met, I woke up.
You make me nervous, even when I dream.
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