Hard TimesI see you’ve been weeping for some time nowHard Times1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
You’re all torn out and cold
Even if all you see is darkness
You’re the bit of light that’s shining
And I know you don’t have control
But you can't just let go
Because if one day you do, you might lose yourself
Then I’ll be left alone, with no one to hold.
I'm Alone...I'm alone once again, not by choice.I'm Alone...1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's just that company eludes me.
I sit at my screen, typing away again--
with only a chilled drink for my friend.
I've stood alone in many crowded rooms,
never understanding the why or what for.
I only know that at the end of the night,
I return to a cold-and-lonely bed unmade.
They say I will heal and find happiness...
but how can they say that and not know me?
I long for what I cannot have, but why?
I guess that's because I'm human and alone.
I'm alone once again, not by choice.
I see the stain and feel the pain
that come with loneliness unescapable...
my own scarlet letter for my heartbreak.
Why?Seeing her body spread out underneath yours,Why?1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
your hands on her tiny waist,
your lips on her neck,
my heart breaks.
The tears flow like an unchecked dam
as you try to explain.
Don't you see?
I don't want your explanations or excuses
You rush out of the room after me,
boxers barely staying on your slender frame.
But I can't look at you.
I cannot look at those eyes,
begging me to stay.
But you catch up to me,
as you normally do,
and spin me around to face you.
not what either of us expected
My palm connects with your face.
Harder than I've ever slapped anyone
and once I start, it seems, I can't stop.
My hands beat your chest,
and I only ask why.
Do not pity meI do not need your pity.Do not pity me4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Just because I cannot have what you are receiving, does not make me a lesser person. It only means that my life is taking different turns to yours. Everyone is different and makes different decisions. Just because my choices are different to yours does not mean that you have the right to look down on me.
You may think that my choices have made me bitter. Maybe they have. Time will tell if you are right.
But do not pity me my choices. They are MY choices and mine alone.
We Can Fly From HereWe Can Fly From Here4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Up in the sky,
The birds fly,
The songbird sings in foreign ancient tongue,
The sky moving,
The clouds perk,
The bird flies away.
The sun calls our name,
We chase the light,
We cross the bridge that connects us,
Breaking the barrier that divided us.
We climb our favourite apple tree,
To kiss the sun,
The wind touching us,
Gentle wind singing,
The rain dousing us in love.
Our mind, body and soul are free,
We run towards freedom,
We can fly from here
*Different Perspectives*Female logic caused him much merriment*Different Perspectives*1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
She failed to see the reason for his mirth
All her notions made perfect sense -
What can be done with the illogical male?
Male logic caused her much merriment
He failed to see the reason for her mirth
All his notions made perfect sense -
What can be done with the illogical female?
Updated 17th March2014
Earth Mother EarthEarth Mother Earth4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Mihalis awoke in the morning,
The morning dew kissed the flower as it bloomed,
The young Elf plays his Harp
As his ears were sharp,
He heard the march
The Earth gives us life,
The water sings to us,
Takes us to lands afar,
The wind guides us,
The sun controls us,
The God of Light smiles upon us
Waiting for us to taste the fruit of the Suntree
Earth Mother Earth,
Save our children,
Save our voice,
Save our land
Earth Mother Earth,
Save us from man
DarkI am the scream inside your headDark3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The fear that wakes you in the night
I will devour your hope
Tear your sanity into shreds
Your pain intoxicates me
Insanity my gift for you
Dark passion fills me
Dark feeds me
Dark is me
To SummerRealm of new gold, and blue-hot raging sun,To Summer4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Yellow kept kingdom of the spilling fields;
Blind under burning filaments that run
Like blood from the bursting heads of corn,
As sultry woods dapple with bluebell peals
And all the summer fruits of swallows song;
Are shaded by kestrels, glaring overhead
And jealous ponds are broken by the stares;
Of swollen mayflies, peering from the dead.
Bright Hyperion, who had never seen,
The dark side of the earth give birth to thoughts
That were not vanquished by a fiery screen
Of sunrise through his airy crystal courts.
Who glowing like a distant neutron star,
Passed his hours with the lightest heart,
Of all the gods that trod an ancient path,
When fledgling then came rising Jupiter,
To fell the giant from his roaring part,
And cast him down onto an ashen hearth.
Look not upon the lion faced season
Or its brazen path for answers to life,
But take the moment to trace the horizon,
And float on the seconds flooded with light.
Drink of t
StormDancing through the skyStorm5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Streaks of flashing white
Lighting rims of clouds
A torrent from above
Raining onto the world
A loud thunderclap booms
Eternal tapping on the ground
A tempest whips the field
Frozen air, pouring water
A powerful chill on the skin
Soon extends to the bone
and that's when our halos turned black.there must be some way out.and that's when our halos turned black.10 months ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
who've forgotten how to fly
weren't we all angels at some point,
in some other life?
we just came
to an irrational solution:
there's so much
to run away from.
but we never thought this through,
and now we don't know what to do.
we've been trapped again,
by the flaws in our own heads-
what made us wish
for a freedom such as this?
now, in the cold dark corner,
we've been stripped of every armor
that we owned,
and when the silences get deafening,
they'll begin our sentencing
(as if we're not already there).
grassy field with rustgrassy field with rustgrassy field with rust2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I'd heard about the old car, three miles out of town and all alone. I just had to see it. It was time. School was over for the summer, my friends were at camp, and I was bored. I set out Thursday morning for a hike, following directions that Uncle Will had given me. As the heat was still growing with the climb of the sun, I found the field and wandered around looking, and looking some more, trying not to be distracted by bees buzzing in the flowers, and butterflies and baby mice. Then it was there, just a bit upslope from the bottom of a natural swale, and just below the sky at the top of the bank. A 1959 Cadillac convertible, but not like the old music videos showed.
This one was part buried in grass gone to seed and turned almost white golden with the dry heat. The tires were collapsed cracked pieces and there wasn't a trace of pink paint anywhere. Rust owned it, and it held on so tight that holes were showing in what used
ReminiscenceWhen you're six years old, you think childhood goes on forever. There are no days, weeks, or months to keep track of, no weekly paychecks or monthly bills or yearly tax statements to mark the passage of time as in the adult world. Sure, there's the quarterly report card – but that's mostly for the parents anyway. In the young mind, time marches by in a continuing spiral of weekend cartoons, insufferable school days, nightly battles to avoid baths and bedtimes. The only indicators of elapsing years are the school clothes that you outgrow the month they're purchased and the switching of teachers as you ascend up the grade ladder. Otherwise, you don't label the years by number. You only know a great stretch of blankness to be filled with activity and memories.Reminiscence8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Time is not the only thing elastic about childhood. Adults believe – to their disadvantage – that the mind matures as you get older, that reality is a concrete matter and that once you learn that, you're ready for the "real" world.
stumbling into my little infinityi'll never be a singularity.stumbling into my little infinity10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the words i say may be unique
and special of themselves,
they're still just the same 26 letters
as everything else in this world.
i want to be more
than stardust and atoms,
better than the next sorry soul
waiting in line for a purpose
that may not even show.
i want to be more
than 01101101 01100101,
like the chorus of a song
that's been loved too much.
i don't want a one track mind,
i want to be one of my own kind.
if i indemnify myself from
these scattered atoms
and sepia sands,
if i cut this silver noose
that's been sitting so
comfortably around my neck,
i don't know if i'll be one step
closer or three miles
(but i guess those two are basically
the same, aren't they?)
i don't know
where i'm going.
i don't know whether i'm walking
or running away
or crawling on my knees
to a place devoid of matter
or all of the above,
but i'm too afraid
do you think the void would mind
if i compared m
Melody in My MindShhh...Melody in My Mind1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Do you hear it?
voice of street,
hearts that beat
Rhythm set free:
one two three
one two three
hear the song
dance with me
There's melody in my mind
Magical melody, murmuring, moody
Musical mystical moving melody
There's melody in my mind
I'll tell you a secret.
I cannot sing.
Imagine that feeling.
Those tones frozen between your mind and mouth, that melody you can't express.
Imagine one of those songs that give you goosebumps, that clutch your heart and make you cry "Yes! Yes, that's it!"
Imagine you want to share it with everyone... but can't.
When you try to repeat the melody, it is off and quavers and screeches like nails on the board.
There's melody in my mind, and it wants to be heard, to be set free.
And so I paint.
The colors are my symphony.
I sound the violins of sky-blue, the lutes of green and drums of violet.
And so I write.
The words on pape
We Need FeminismWe, a global society, need feminism.We Need Feminism4 months ago in Scraps More Like This
Visiting India for the first time in 1996, I saw my boy cousin use a Barbie-pink backpack we had brought from America. The sight was as foreign as cows wandering the streets, tails swatting the ubiquitous flies. My mother explained that pink for girls and blue for boys was an American obsession. In a small town where growing girls were expected to wear dresses or longer pants, no one gave a damn what color they were, although everyone had an unfortunate predilection for neon.
Luckily, I'd spent my childhood in blues and greys because the only person who bought my clothing didn't like pink herself. My clothes came from the boys' section. I got cars, Legos, K'nex. Not as many video games as I'd wanted. I had to play Mortal Kombat on the boys' consoles, thankful that the only other girl in our social group wasn't around too often. She liked dolls and, unlike the rest of us, cried to get her way. Odd how she was never told to man up.
We do not need
I Am No PoetI can spell, I can rhyme,I Am No Poet1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
And I do it all the time;
I can chop up sentences:
Just. Like. That.
You want a haiku?
Oh yes, I can do that too,
It's just what you do
Is somehow more "true."
Do you want me to be Emily?
Do you want me to be Poe?
Do you want me to be Cummings,
Tossing syntax to and fro?
Do you want me to be Shakespeare?
Rudyard Kipling is good, too.
Do you want me to be Robert?
Or contemporary - "new"?
Let me use those darn devices,
And sound deeper than I am;
If you read this
Poem right, you'll find
That lies within.
What Is the Moon?The moon is a stone orbWhat Is the Moon?4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's lines in brilliant circles
The moon is a stone ball
That rolls around in cycles
The sun, that opposite
Brings down glorious light
But when it fades and the orb appears
It gives us a delightful midnight
If the moon were a candy
What would it be?
Pop Rocks, Gobstoppers, Suckers
None of them for me
If it were covered in chocolate
It would be loved by a sweet tooth
But I prefer dark, not white
And eat it in a small booth
Maybe ice cream?
Would be tasty for sure
Chocolate, Strawberry, Cookies n' Cream?
No, Vanilla is pure to you and me
The dots on the treat are specks of desire
And up in the sky, they are up even higher
The moon is no orb or some kind of candy
If it was ice cream, that would be dandy
Lets Just Be FriendsDon't take it personally when I give you the cold shoulder,Lets Just Be Friends6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
an eyebrow raised in the questioning of your mental processes,
And when you think you're getting somewhere
I turn you down and walk away.
It's not your fault you're not perfect--
It's mine for believing you could be.
They tell me to lower my standards;
I don't understand why.
Can you not see the broken tears around you?
That's just not for me.
I'd rather be single and free
Than be chained down by someone who isn't right for me.
If you're trying to woo me, try again.
manifest destinationWinant BLVD. (RT-46)manifest destination5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a school of fish flowed by me
as I stood waiting for the bus
(which would be a whale in this metaphor)
their current fed the gust
that sent embers sizzling
at my cheeks, as I lipped
a cigarette failing
to keep ash
embracing its own naked cherry
like a dandelion in a hurricane.
NJTRANSIT 05:20PM 24APR09(168)
each blotch of earth
that slid past the window
bored me more than
the one before it,
until I saw this little boy
who looked like a king
on top of a flipped over barbie-
car, stomping up and down
as if conquering a world
waiting to eat him alive.
his mother watching
from their porch steps
her hair glowing sun-lit
like that of a doll
with a frozen smile about
her embossed face,
had her child not
been so alive,
I would believe
she never breathed
a mannequin mother
with eyes sewn into
the rest of her life.
the zodiac thief.i.the zodiac thief.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
i was only two years old
when he took my zodiac
away from me.
whenever i probed him
for a reason,
he simply said that
if god had a sense of humor,
he was drowning in it.
he harbored my zodiac
for nine years—
allowing it to fester
in a myriad of body parts
until its pincers
latched onto his heart.
he spoke of it with reverence,
both fear and awe seeping through
the gaps of his teeth
until he had me convinced that
my zodiac now held the title of
"daddy's little girl".
on his death bed,
he wore no glasses
and my virgo genes
flushed at the sight
of his naked eyes.
his retina flashed golden
as ephemeral solar flares danced
on the tips of his eyelashes
& supernovas gave birth to waves
that lapped the edges of his eyelids.
his celestial gaze
as he whispered for the last time,