IndistinctYou have not a voice, so that you can whisper.Indistinct2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Then how will you your secret tell?
When you say nothing.
Because you cannot.
You have not color, for the daylight to see.
So how may I know of your secret, do tell me?
When there is now nothing to look upon.
Because the light won't let me.
You have not kindness in your inherited temper.
So how can you give away so much?
When all you have is love.
You are of so many riddles.
Who, you cannot manifest,
Though I know, you biggest riddle is empathy.
Rainbowi.Rainbow5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I have a bouquet of light
of shattered sunrays
that shun those
whose rose is not as rubicund
or whose cerulean is only slightly sea-green-stained.
Slice up the white
and imprison it in sardine cans
and push the plungers home.
But no matter how much you may try
the result is death;
for you've frayed the perfect threads
And only dried minerals and plasma
some darker version of the cosmic latte concentrated.
My heart is a prism.
All that's around me
some hibernating humming
frozen beneath the winter's coat.
I must be a time machine,
because I cannot abide this monochrome much longer.
And I've sprung forward to spring.
I'm seizing the icicles
that drip from the pallid clouds
and stripping them
and cutting them
and setting them
and in my heart they are transcribed
and flowers bloom
in the rumination of the sunlight.
a host to the aquatic fermentation
and I sip this bouquet
an imitation of the future,
As the Sun WalksI will rise and walk the sidewalks as the sun walks them.As the Sun Walks2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
With careful steps I will do my best to stay up and awake,
Though the sun has no problems with this,
I do we are far apart, Sol and I, fire and earth.
I will rise and walk the sidewalks as the sun walks them,
To the best of my ability, be the tip of the invading spear as it
Mirthfully chases away the night, calling that day has come,
Let Night retire to their mutual couch!
I will rise and walk the sidewalks as the sun walks them.
For the morning is a sort of table, a place of parley between
Light and Dark, and between silence and noise.
You, walker, with me walk the sidewalks of Clinton where
The faithful scholars walk, and the two of us will be quiet.
Perhaps we will speak, but it will be a calm speech,
KATRINALIVES A MILEKATRINA3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
from the sea.
she is sallow as a beach.
she smells like rain,
or a wet earth,
with pale hair clipped
behind her head
she feels as though her hair
would be black. but it is
it is colorless
GIVES MY STOMACH
she doesn't speak.
she is silence.
i speak at her, mostly
and her eyes
look as though
they've been plucked
from a lynx
they are blue around the edges
the deep blue you find
at the edge of the sea,
if you've been out that far.
at the center they are green
light like a riptide.
they tug you in.
unmoving, and calculating
i said to some
gave me head.
her hands are too far dug
into the coast of spain
for her to reach me,
far too eager
for my composure.
she'd suck me dry
like her mothers did
the caspian sea,
like the fields of sahara
once lush with green.
she is a barefoot girl.
she moans like the shorefront
in the dead of night.
i've made love to
Lake WindermereWe are sometime tourists,Lake Windermere6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in open topped buses
tie-dyed amongst Mercedes.
smelling of campfire smoke,
our pockets filled with menthol cigarettes,
and skipping stones.
We find ourselves
basking in the glow of laughter
under the dripdrip
of cave music.
Beers and sticky chocolate bars
fill our tattered canvas bags,
alongside leather flip flops,
discarded for bare footed expeditions
and daisy chains.
GrapefruitI hold a microcosm in this globe,Grapefruit3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
heavy on the palm of my hand,
full of regret and heat.
it is heft and heady smell,
the unexpected roundness discovered on the ground
after the season's first rain, a secret shielded
by shining leaves pulled open like wet, wide eyes.
The skin blushes with nervous goose-flesh,
fragrant as a summer promise.
It is the dark light behind your iris,
lemonade on the green porch,
hair stripped by the sun until it is soft and wild.
It holds the flesh of the hot season
tightly beneath its puckered skin
and I knock on the door of its fullness
with my teeth.
We are sharing this summer secret together,
in the gray plant nursery
where the mud sucks your shoes from your feet.
A stooped tree glances at us from the spot
where it burst through a fence,
speckled with moss.
How silk is madeHow silk is madeHow silk is made8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When in the shock of waking, I am a silkworm. Blinking
back an after-image of a Hokkaido mountain range I've never seen.
I imagine the pulsed halo when the substation blew.
This is how all transitions are, a burrowing.
Even though no one sees it happen, or because of it.
A cherry blossom bursts out in the mountains.
In a vast, unintended moment it fills the sky.
Only in blind worm-acts is silk ever made.
We are surprised when the winter holds on like a silence.
We are surprised when light bursts forth from the Earth.
When, on a slope full of cherry trees, it all collapses.
We move into a slow awareness we hope we never understand.
SnowMonths grouped together like careless footstepsSnow6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
stroll upon the lashings accorded to me by the sun.
In January I am caressed by ghosts
or something as cold and invisible.
They intrude upon hair, clothes; books
dampen with monstrous hand prints.
Are these shells of half-dead creatures
holding themselves, ancient in a cavern somewhere
or tethered to the earth by thought?
Bits of cloud, the flesh of heaven
picked off like a soft disease
nestle on my shoulder as if pulled from my sweater.
they emerge quietly like droplets of blood. Whisper:
we are the teeth of ancient things.
White drift presses upon the house
and the window. Its cool breath scales
my chin, pries open my mouth like a tenacious lover,
and settles with a small sigh on the tongue
like a hiss of steam.
We have made and unmade warmth.
Retraction of ChlorophyllLonger nights,Retraction of Chlorophyll3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and shorter days,
Sinking towards the horizon,
the sun stretches itself against
pulsating veins retracting
from margins to petiole
Don't Hate the RayDon't hate the rayDon't Hate the Ray8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It only did what nature told it to
It was grumpy and felt threatened
So it took the only action that it knew
Don't hate the ray
What it did was only natures way
The ray is still a beauty of the sea
A creature to be respected and conserved
By folks like you and me
But most importantly
You'll find this to be true
Don't hate the ray
Because Steve wouldn't want us to
AutismAutism.Autism6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My definitions for this word are:
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD)
Attention Defesit Disorder (ADD)
I am cursed with autism.
I am confused whether my thinking is normal or not.
I am the only one.
I see teens with incredible thinking power.
I see science everywhere.
I see sin.
My mind carries no common sense.
My mind can never come up with the right words for me to say.
My mind is imperfect.
I repeat real life events I see over and over in my head.
I concentrate on hatred passed to me from other people.
I have incredible issues.
There are people whom I see have flaws in their learning.
There is a brain tumor collaborating with my brain.
There is no cure for Autism.
This disorder scars my personality.
This disorder keeps me away from being a white sheep.
This disorder is my host.
Associated with selective hearing.
Associated with an incontrollable temper.
All Our FaultWe swallowed fireflies,All Our Fault4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
watched them become
red esophagus lights
on the way down.
We pulled off wings of fairies
and cut them into tiny
We blew up
the stars, the moon
and then, and then
There was no longer
enough light to guide us
in the night.
Five's a CrowdA Saskatoon year is not symmetrical:Five's a Crowd5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it has five seasons
stumbling into one another
toasting timeless acquaintance
is grey and tan
a folded old woman
a stalk of straw in her gravel teeth.
Limping, smiling and wet
from between Winters supermodel thighs
she stains white legs
damp cigarette butts and chokecherries
knotted in her grove of hair.
Yet we smile
we only feel
her forehead warmth
her wrinkle-dust like talc
she unbends her back
to reach behind us
and breaks the hour-hand
suggests she stay.
Her cracked lips like sidewalks
crusted folds of her face
cold fingers up our backs
are nothing like Spring
In summer we all burnThe summer is coming,In summer we all burn3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I hear the beach roaring from here,
can see shirts hung over shoulders,
sunglasses, arms round waists,
can feel the earth's purrs,
pollens tossed up at us in fanfare.
Ants are walking over me
because we're sharing a tree together.
Back to back, we're trying to
make our winter's pallour a warmer shade.
Is it some sort of personal sign
when you let your shoe-tongues fill with tan bark,
when it's driven you mad your whole life?
Or when you eat ice-cream in public (the sticky
fingers a mere afterthought)?
These trees though, they're not changing.
I can't help thinking they're
often doing better than we are.
Summer is coming; they sit still and burn.
Some go out with a bang!
Others fall to dust.
But us, we fuss and flail.
Still we burn.
Summer is for beaches and getting laid.
Summer is for stretching,
for sticking your proboscis into
the rivers and guzzling.
No, I can't help thinking about
the skeletons at the waterholes in the Mallee.
The PrairiesOur golden star blazes through the heavens,The Prairies5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Wearing scattering rays like the crown of a king.
The wind inhales the contents of the vast sky,
Then exhales as the clouds fashion their latest design.
The seemingly never ending rows of burnt wheat invite
a type of silence, but there is none to be found here.
The gliding moths and flies buzz like loose electricity,
Stalking coyotes cry and yelp through moon lit darkness.
The water of the meadow lakes run through my veins,
My heart will always beat through wild grass jungles.
The Lone WolfThe Lone wolfThe Lone Wolf7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He bounds through the forest
Searching for companionship
Moonlight glinting in his eyes
Howling with the anger in his heart
A lone vagabond
Wandering the world alone
Glaring at the hateful stars
Howling at the laughing moon
Stops and listens
The souls of those past
Join him in his search
Forever guiding him
Never leaving his side
The swanThe swan4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A love swan heart
forming in a shallow
river water an
See it glide in the
moonlight with an
armful of white
across the stream.
the seed greeted the asphalt -the seed greeted the asphalt with surprisethe seed greeted the asphalt -7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
, said it was set upon by early morning winds,
that they came from under the bridge by the bay,
rose up and turned like a freight train down the street;
ignoring the stop sign completely, causing an early commuter
to lean into it, squinting. discoloured leaves
rushed to fill its absence, falling over each other,
it said the heavy mass of pure air hit with such momentum
as to shake it off deliberately, making it a helpless
and unwilling hitchhiker for some 20 metres.
GarryxReader .:Together Forever:.For as long as you could remember, you have always worked at a very pleasant, and nice art gallery. Yet,at the same time, it seemed a bit....off. You would work late, and the pictures seemed to...move. Writing on the walls. Some pictures being blank. You blamed it on your sleepiness, and seeing things,but every time you mentioned it to your friend Garry, he seemed to dwell on it a second,then change the subject.GarryxReader .:Together Forever:.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You were a bit annoyed with this,yes, because you knew he was in the gallery, in 'another world' with a girl named Ib. You couldn't help but think she was a bit more special than you, since you have had a crush on Garry since you first met him. You manage to stutter around him when he was to close, or when he hugged you.
"Are you ok ______?" He would ask, curiously staring at your reddened face.
You manage to squeak out an "I-I'm fine!" and walk off quickly after that.
But today,today you were going to tell him you liked him.
You had to,since your friends were pressuring you in
For a Crow on a Telephone Wirebeing black is oppressive,For a Crow on a Telephone Wire11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
ballast in a body that should not
sit so elegantly on a flimsy wire.
lines should tense or bend
beneath your weight, but you have bones
formed of wind
and ride on things less dense.
Sorry I was born a PitbullDear owner please don't hurt meSorry I was born a Pitbull8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I truly didnt know
that chewing shoes and licking your face made me dangerous
I'm sorry I was born with a jaw that is so fierce
and then the BSL came and said that we are all
doomed, for something SOME pitbulls might do.
And some things I NEVER did.
I'm sorry my mom was a pitbull, and I'm sorry dad was too.
but if you ban my breed now, who will be there to protect you?
There won't be any rotties, or bulls of any kind
regular dogs not brave the dogs who cry and whine
Please help fight the BSL for they're blaming my whole breed
as well as other bulls and rotties who have even helped people.
animals that were strong and were bred for loyalty
now at the vet in the euthanasia line.
Its not fair that they condemn me for things I never did
but we're capable of doing such things, is what the government says
they don't care if we're loved
they rip us away from our last hugs.
With the owners that loved us dearly
It's not right that they have to suff
Ocean SkiesI watch ocean skiesOcean Skies5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
drown each sailing bird.
Swimming clouds kiss
the stretched blueness.
The wind flies lost;
her soft breath flows
as live shadows sway
to the beat of the earth.
The patterns of energy
lavishly flood my eyes.
flawed in her beauty.