poetry « WordPress.com Tag Feed

Joyride

muddledmagpie — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 09:13:28 +0000

Skipping back down memory lane,

The wire dangling.

My life in your hands.

I felt so small and insignificant.

You push faster, toward London.

Lights flying past.

Through the tunnel my screams echoed,

You turned smiling,

Eyes on the road.

Joyride. I can’t breathe anymore.

You had absolute control.

I won’t let that happen again,

Beautiful, crazy love.

My colours would be grey

Allison Grayhurst — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 09:01:41 +0000

My colours would be grey

if not for your heart so

tempered by preserved dreams

and accepted disappointments,

dancing in the unknown,

with a tongue

unafraid to astonish or offend

the public swallower . . .

if not for every morning, finding

your eyes closed, sleeping near my

smiling body, and your lips that unearth

each tear from my harbouring breast,

unearth the giant seed of deliverance . . .

if not for our partnership,

our home of unhooded tenderness,

the doorways within that lead

to evenings of geranium spring . . .

if not for holding you, or

your touch splitting the shell

of my skin, flooding my womb

with fires of indomitable

peace . . .

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

My colours would be grey

Envy

Chris — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:58:55 +0000

I envy those that have

The things I don’t.

Flaunting in designer clothes,

Riding in limousines,

While I wear the Oxfam shirt

And dead man’s shoes.

For holidays they take the plane

While we stay at home again.

We stay at home and tell the kids;

The Canaries get too hot.

Declaring they don’t mind, they go

Camping in the garden.

Loneliness

disturbedmonkey — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:57:56 +0000

Feeling so alone my empty soul
Is there no-one around to fill this hole?
For so long I’ve lived with this feeling of empty
With so much to give but no-one who wants me

Walking along in the darkness
With such a strong feeling of loneliness
No-one else to hear my screaming
So bruised yet somehow my heart still beating

This torment of being on my own
How can anyone be so alone?
No-one to love and hold on to me
Will I fall away and slowly cease to be?

All I ask is for someone to care
Someone with whom this life I can share
She will take away the loneliness I feel
And show me a love I know is real

Update

Epiphany Art — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:57:48 +0000

Incomplete piece of a poem I’m apparently working on. Just thought of keeping it coming. Trust me, it makes more sense with the rest of its pieces. Lol.

Vivid horizons over my heart
Changing climates, unpredictable situations.
Soul shattered, your love depart.
Hope not lost still, reason’s your infatuation.

Anger

Taylor — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:57:10 +0000

I am ice,
And the Sun is my Savior,
And as I slowly melt,
The Man on the Moon
Looks down wearily,
And as I write my tomb to sleep in,
Thumbing my nose at Purpose,
I reach out desperately for Another,
Only to grasp wisps of smoke.

We are fire,
And I am cold.

diamond buds.

amber — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:56:21 +0000

I love clouds

kitkatkiat — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:55:53 +0000

I really really love clouds. I can stare at the sky for hours and marvel at the fluffy clouds floating by. Peacefulness and serenity.

I’m always tempted to snap pictures of the sky whenever I go (with my iPhone) …. here are some shots:

Here’s my favorite one yet,

And people always ask why I love the sky.

"It is strange how often...

eleighsplace — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:46:37 +0000

“It is strange how often a heart must be broken before the years can make it wise.” – Sarah Teasdale

2nd of June...

adlt1226 — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:45:36 +0000

if i ask you
to come back to me
would you?…
in a heartbeat
would you come to me
running?…
or would you hesitate
and think whether to leave?
i wish you’d see
through me…
that in spite of
the resistance i put up
there’s nothing more
that i would want than
to have you where i am…
i wonder when i’ll stop;
with all my wishful thinking
knowing that you
have already chosen
to forget…
i wonder if a time
will come when i too
would choose to forget…
won’t you come back to me before i do?

Animal Man: As Simple as Survival

kennywatt — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:44:48 +0000

Is it not true that Man can, as any other animal does, revert back to a barbaric state when FORCED to go beyond the typical to survive?

When we can’t afford a trip to the supermarket, we’re forced into a drastic state, hoping to feed our children and we subsequently steal from the supermarket. Does this make you wrong or of immoral standard to survive? Should an abandoned dog be tracked down and put to death for killing a cow, for merely surviving? How can we punish something already being punished?

In a state of survival, one can’t be expected to follow a guideline drawn by someone who doesn’t face a survival situation. A man stands on a river bank, cast after cast, and still no fish. He’s more the moderately worried, a catch will earn him a meal. The man notices another man fishing up stream, the man up stream has a bucket full of fish. “That’s why I can’t catch anything”, he thinks. So the man packs up his gear and moves up stream, above the man with all the fish. Now, if etiquette was relevant to the man with no fish, he would have never done this, but the man with no fish must survive and thus must ignore this guideline. Much like anyone would do if they had to kill a man to protect themselves or loved ones from death. If someone said to me they wouldn’t hurt anyone else for their survival, I would know that they are lying. Survival is genetically woven into our being, this is why our species still exist. We’ve simply survived other species.

“He must master or be mastered; while to show mercy was weakness. Mercy did not exist in the primordial life. It was misunderstood for fear, and such misunderstandings made for death. Kill or be killed, eat or be eaten, was the law; and this mandate, down out of the depths of time, he obeyed”
-J.L.
The Call of The Wild

Please let me out

skwrrkk — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:44:26 +0000

You tell me to picture us

in ten years from now

and I can’t, because there is no us

and I think I would be miserable.

You tell me to remember us

and the moments we shared

and the memories and the smiles

but I can’t.

because there were never any of those things

You tell me to dream of us

but when I do,

I only wake up in terror

You tell me to picture us

but I can’t

it only makes me sadder.

This isn’t my stop, but

I think I’ll walk from here.

The Only Rule Is There Are No Rules

3minutes — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:43:29 +0000

Welcome

Expressionless

Chief Doodler — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:37:46 +0000

I stare at the paper and the inspiration escapes me
My muse gone from my world
And I am left expressionless

I see the little things around me
And they inspire me for a brief moment
So expression comes fleetingly

I will not write of the of the loss
The turmoil it creates
The void it has left

I will find solace in the world around
Of small and happy moments
Even if it’s just a wisp of smoke

Juiced

Stacia — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:35:58 +0000

Haiku Friday: Juiced

This boy and his cast
Have four more weeks together.
I’m going crazy.

He runs, chases, climbs,
Spins, scooters, shimmies, and jumps.
You’re not healed! I plead.

He’s juiced, batteries
Recharged, practically humming,
My electric boy.

Children are resilient: discuss. And what do I do with all his energy??

Sleepless

unfetteredbs — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:32:42 +0000

Soft rain serenades three am tick tock looming clock stare of time locks me Haiku Heights Challenge

Wala Rito. Wala Roon. Ang Paghahanap sa Magnum!

Gian Carlo ♥ the Daydreamer — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:30:55 +0000

I was curled up on my bed this morning, ear buds on my ears and listening to the MP3s on my phone

Crested Pigeons & Pad bolt locks: A parts list poem

Brad — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:29:25 +0000

Kit A – Crested Pigeons Kit B – Pad bolt lock Parts List [10] http://www.swsbm.com/Fenne

DEAR GOLDFISH

King kObOkO — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:18:01 +0000

I am lost in thoughts of you and me What have you done to my brain? What have you put in my veins? C

Poem 'Chances'

dfb — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:16:20 +0000

A set of Poker dice as used in Liar dice (individual hand). (Photo credit: Wikipedia) Chances You wa

Age is the Price We've Paid For Maturity

Nicholas Gagnier — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:13:54 +0000

Bumps in the night
introduced themselves
as phantoms with stage fright-

flashes of white,
hung in ceiling corners

like spiders.

In fights to
the death of pillows,
feigned prayers bellowed

beneath blankets.

Beds having grown
infrared became natural.

Shadows spark fewer unknowns.

We trade imagination
for heavy, wrinkled eyes
that defy
the laws of fear

and take
bolder steps,
waking less upset

at days with
dawn in crisis mode.

I Will Fly, I Will Fly

Clarabelle — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:09:31 +0000

You are amazing, you can be, do and have anything you want. Go on, put your mind to it, I mean, rea

The American Nightmare

johndwm — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:08:41 +0000

The American Nightmare

The American dream seems sweet to achieve it,

it’s tough but you have to be asleep to believe it,

they force feed it to us when we’re children,

then we’re hassled until we die and their buildin’,

all these castles in the sky of our minds,

that are false being lost is just a sign of the times,

we’re cursed until we’re in a hearse and buried,

you rehearsed this once or more before first you get married,

then you have one to four kids, you play golf,

you get a mortgage you may never be able to pay off,

and the interest causes you to pay almost twice,

the closing price but still you roll the dice,

you’ll be in debt which you’ll regret as a senior,

but you won’t let that affect your demeanor,

you’ll steer with the theme you’ll get the career of your dreams,

but dreams don’t appear as they seem,

So you have the suburban lifestyle, the estate,

but it’s disturbing when you smile because it’s fake,

from what I’m observing you can write checks for your house,

but you never have sex with your spouse,

and your husband or wife complains,

you’re not lovin’ how your life’s mundane you want change,

you want to unchain the shackles from the debt,

that you owe then you go and tackled by regret,

From the American nightmare it’s the unspoken poem,

written by a kid livin’ in a broken home,

it’s the American nightmare it’s the suburban opera,

when your marriage is a fraud yeah you deserve an Oscar,

it’s the American nightmare it’s the exposure,

to stress when your home goes up for foreclosure,

It’s the American nightmare yeah the pain stings,

but I’m sure you’ll teach your kids to do the same thing….

Welcome to…..

The Adventures of E. Grizzly

It’s like the Puertorican, hip hop, rock, Miami, Philly, NYC, artsy, grizzly, version of Huck Finn with a moustache | I’m not a blogger I just write a lot

egrizzly305

Metaphysical Thoughts. (Traveling)

saxsquatch — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 08:07:21 +0000

I stood for a moment in reverence and silence
watching the moon hang in the sky.
It’s glow was a great beacon. It curled my eyes a bit.
Continents sailed above me from one end of the universe
to places far distant, and on important duty,
I’m sure of it.

I got the car back down the road and my view became
yellow lines and glowing signs and not a star at all.
The trees are thick in most places, and always
at the tops of the hills that are big enough
to show me the sky for a moment.

When I finally stopped driving it was daylight again
and those nation-states had made their appointments.
My eyes still curled, a bit more even. The sun was bright.
I had money in my pocket for a plate at a diner and
a beer across the street. It was the best beer I’d had yet.

I’d give up that plate to know whether I’d ever see
the moon like that again. At least then I’d know
not to get my hopes up most nights.
I’d give up that beer to see
the moon like that again. Beer is such a
transient thing, anyway.