pollenwasp-waisted beautypollen2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
pray into my collarbone
let your snake tongue slither
with the syllables.
i wish for soft-chested nights,
and the trickle of champagne down crystal glass.
poppy-lips, lull me to sleep,
nurse my coiling tongue with yours;
tap my scalp like a silent drum,
and wind my hair in between your fingers
like broken guitar strings.
(serenade me with the buzz of pollen in your kiss.)
make like yellow and slow downThis is a story about octagonsmake like yellow and slow down5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and road rage. Well, actually,
this isn't a story; instead, this
is a to-do list. So complete it.
Paint a stop sign green,
and GO away, one way,
says an arrow on some
other sign not to follow.
Paint this one magenta;
paint that one cerulean.
Transform an entire street
into a Crayola crayon box.
Park in a no parking zone.
Go directly to jail. Escape.
Go three times the speed
limit, dumbass driver. Get
caught. Get a ticket. Get
a life. Give me your ticket,
but tell me it's for a train.
Paint the railroad crossing
sign invisible. Wait for it.
Eat the 't' in train. "Hey,
I'm a weatherman now."
Flash flood alert: drown
yourself. If you survive
the trainwreck, at least.
Locate the nearest crosswalk,
and backflip to the other side.
Please get hit by a bus or car
or truck. Get run over by an
ambulance for the Irony. Die
in the hospital. I could hope.
Judgement"You need to stop doing this."Judgement4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Stop doing what?"
"Writing me into your stories."
"Because it scares me. I'm not this guy that you write about. I'm not some kind of Prince Charming and I'm certainly not a sea God or whatever you like to say about my eyes every now and then."
"Yeah. You really need to work on your judgement of people, because this is all wrong. It's like you don't know me at all!"
"So why don't you correct me and I'll fix my idea of you accordingly."
"Well firstly, I'm a really nervous person."
"Yeah. Your hands are either fiddling with your hair or your sleeve, or you're biting your nails."
"And I don't like going out. I'm a hermit."
"Except to your best friends' houses, or to the animal shelter, or to me."
"And I'm dead inside."
"Says the boy who hides his tears at the sight of an injured puppy."
"I do not."
"Yes, you do."
"Anyway, I'm not always nice to you. In fact, I really don't do enough."
"You're right. Except yo
AstroYou are a trajectory from which I have fallen, Moon-boundAstro2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Earth-boy. With height and speed your molecules shifted;
I dropped away by degrees — further, then further.
There must be all the sky between us now,
but I taste your dust with my fingertips,
Muse:She corrodes star shapes intoMuse:2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the hearts of sleeping poets,
Introductions"Hi, I'm-"Introductions4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I know who you are."
"You're the guy who thinks he's invisible."
"I have a name-"
"It isn't important. Because you really don't think it's important."
"All right. Since we've started out this way, let me just tell you, I know you too."
"You're the girl who is broken."
"I am not broken."
"You're the girl whose eyes close every night and open the next morning, only to find you have never slept at all."
"I sleep well. Besides-"
"You're the girl who dreams of a happy ending even though she has seen seventeen...no, eighteen unhappy ones in her eighteen years."
"Happy endings are over rated. And you're-"
"You're the girl who wants something bigger, something stronger, just so the weakness in her body becomes something so much more."
"You don't understand weakness the way-"
"You're the girl whose heart broke when she was so young, and she fixed it back together with superglue, but cannot ignore the cracks."
"Superglue makes for a good companion, especially when-"
Crazy?Am I crazy?Crazy?4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I think I am.
Yup, definitely crazy.
That's what I am.
I must be crazy.
I have to be out of my mind.
I don't want to be like everyone else.
I don't want to dress up.
I don't want a relationship.
I don't want to fall into fads.
I don't want to listen to gossip.
I don't want to be mean.
I don't want to be super nice.
I don't want to constantly be on my phone.
I don't want to listen to your problems.
I want to be myself.
I want to wear miss-matched clothes.
I want to be by myself.
I want to like what I like.
I want to hear silence.
I want to be caring.
I want to be calm.
I want to deal with my own problem.
I want to hear my own thoughts.
I want to be myself.
the difference between lonelyi feel it in my spine.the difference between lonely5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i feel it in my teeth.
i feel it in my bones, their very marrows
aching like something was once there
but is missing, like the ghost of it has gone missing,
like their maws are hanging from their teeth
in some sad sickness.
i want to throw my head back and scream.
i want to feel the tears stream upwards
instead of down, to take to the sky
and fall back to you as rain.
i can't stop feeling.
you are prismatic,
you are line and shadow,
you are the earth and moon and stars and you.
i want rivers to flood my body,
i want to drown in water too hot to feel,
i want to sleep in the snow
and pretend it's you next to me
as i turn blue.
reminds me of you
reminds me of you
reminds me of you.
i can't look at the trees
without imagining your birch forest,
i can't brush things off as a consequence of life
without hearing your voice rise, impassioned by upset.
i'm tired of feeling.
i'm tired of thinking of you
when you're not thinking of me.
i'm tired of lovi
self-imagecan we tradeself-image5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
just for a while;
i want to see myself
the way you do.
You've been on my mind...Quite frankly, you're heavy. Get off.You've been on my mind...8 years ago in General More Like This
Afraid to SpeakMy lips start to tremble,Afraid to Speak5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I do not dare speak.
I wish i could tell you,
but i am too weak.
My heart tenses up
as days open and close.
Someone, hear my plea,
take me out of this doze.
You walk in the doorway,
i avert my gaze.
Do not notice me,
and do not say it's a phase.
I'm sick of these words,
I hear them every day.
The last person i want to hear it from
is you, or i will pay.
It will cut deep in me,
deeper than you will know.
Because i can hide it, you see,
but the pain will only grow.
Inside me it will stay,
but i'm good at this game.
You'll be none-the-wiser
to this incredible pain.
Don't reject this feeling,
it is more than you and i.
But even though it has control,
i've found that i don't mind.
Because it's more than what you think,
more than just a sham;
it's more than just a feeling -
this is who i am.
earth inside methe earth inside of meearth inside me11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
is so large that it is crumbling
out of my body,
the dirt on my hands
is far from subtle
but I do not want to look clean--
to look like something
the surges in my blood
swell up like the vigor
of hand washing,
gentle til obsession
then there is blood,
it is licking at my eyes
(in the corners
where once there was darkness),
and still I am
not a day goes by
that I forget,
not one day
that you do not
that I am a sizable sea
at peace (with me)
and have no desire
(in growing waves)
to chew through my wrists,
that I have found
a way to stop you
in my mind;
I try to sleep,
I pray for sleep,
and then the clock reads
4:30pm and the guilt
over my head
til the next time
I go to bed
(my mattress, my bed,
my flower bed;
dirt rows tilled to my brim
because I am unclean
no matter the rain who tries
to dampen and dim
the grave I am in.)
I Find MyselfI find myself in my bedroom walls,I Find Myself1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
Silent and ever watchful.
I find myself in the worn living room floors,
Beaten down until used to it.
I find myself underneath my bed,
Understanding that I am my own monster.
I find myself looking at the door,
Wondering when it will open.
I find myself peeping through the window,
But night leaves nothing in my sight.
I find myself in old conversations,
My heart finally still.
I find myself stamped into black words,
Wishing for white paint.
I find myself in moonlight,
And beg for the sun.
I find myself in a dream,
After all of this nightmare.
I find myself crying,
Because you are still there.
I find myself hoping that this,
This is the last time.
I find myself turning from you,
There is no use lying.
I find myself smiling,
I find myself a lost cause,
I always find myself
Waiting for you.
an arc is an infinite number of straight linessay ian arc is an infinite number of straight lines2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
& you too
& asked it to appear
& so it soul-sprouted out of earth
or spilled all star-dusted from heaven
or emerged from a gang of goliath worms
& was so splendidly riddled with prisms
we saw god in marvelous feathers
of flaking gold or seven robes
of mica or divinely impoverished
with a putrid buzzard’s beard
we were destined
our phantoms of truth be
so distinctly two of these
that they must eventually
down inside the kuk, kuk & skow
crackling out each green heron beak
is a different sort of time
or now than is
grown within the roh-roh-roh & awk
of every great blue one
deep within a claw of bear
black & river-blessed
exists a unique air
of holy space
which is oh-so-never
alike that which is
sewn within a talon of owl-bird
silent & flying ready-spread
with fiery night-sky eyes
far along the sweet flag
patch of summer swords
withered & seeds to set
Destroy This PoemDestroy This PoemDestroy This Poem7 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
To the person grading this poem
To the kind, patient woman hovering over this with a pen
Waiting to say kind, patient words in response, do me a favor:
Dont Patronize me.
I did not slave over this with hammer and anvil
Shaping it into a masterpiece.
I didnt paint it onto the ceiling of some church,
Going blind from the pain and the stress.
I didnt even turn this in on time.
And while Im writing this in my fifth-period economy class,
You can bet Im not concerned with iambs and troches and Italian terza rima.
No, Im concerned with how much water is left in my water bottle.
This isnt a masterpiece.
Who are we kidding?
Youre not going to hurt it, and you most certainly arent going to hurt me.
Dont patronize me.
I want you to destroy my work.
I want you to rip it to shreds with sadistic dominatrix glee.
Tear it apart from margin to margin;
Laugh openly at its crippled, struggling body.
in love with a dream catcheryou packed your old suitcase full of pink rosesin love with a dream catcher5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and set out to find where the
using the moon beams through tree branches
to guide you.
you wanted to lay your head in the grass
tangle your hair in the sedge
and have music surround you from every
unmeasured inch of earth that equals the outdoors.
you wanted to press your fingers into the top soil
and bottom soil
while it was still cool and kept its fresh
you said everyone's dreams were caught
on angel hair-
[a prettier name for spider webs]
that silvery thread that floats on the wind and
sticks to your face.
i didn't believe you, but
i could see in your eyes
that you were going to be the one to find those dreams.
you were going to
[be the one to]
sail away one misty morning in a boat
just because you wanted to.
just because the world wanted to
when i held you
and when you were closest to me
i felt you getting further away. it scared me
but i knew you
[didn't belong to me]
were a wild
Euphrosynedawn.Euphrosyne3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
legs splash from milky sheets.
she rises from the bed like a wave
and crests, just before bare feet touch wood
and fog crawls across the mirror.
footsteps leave damp prints on the floor.
she sings in muted tendrils that float through
the sun dries her hair with copper fingers.
the shadows bunch beneath her feet
and she tosses them across the sky-
painting clouds over the staring sun.
mile-long legs stretch across the world
makes love to the hand-me-down earth.
her quickened breath becomes the wind
and sails ships across the seven seas.
when the sun grows weary,
she tucks it into bed with her brushes
and crimson-golden paint.
she sings songs while the stars
roll and tumble down the edge of night.
the moon wiggles in her teacup,
she sips carefully, pensively;
the man in the moon plants warm honey kisses
inside her mouth.
and they grow into peals of strawber
air.he's asthmaticair.2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and when we kiss,
he says it
leaves him breathless,
is just two awkward kids
reminding each other to breathe,
that's all you need.
LithiumA single trickling rain dropLithium3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Like gossamer silk strands
Gliding along my third eye
Whispers wind's secret caress
I exhale. Lungs releasing-
Pressing translucent memories;
Fragment of a fragment
As water kisses rose petal,
Drifting down stream's curtain
Pretty little curtain.
Where the wizard lies.
He smiles up at me
With his monocled brow-
Sipping on warm tea
And fingers quacking casually
To the rhythm of his notes
This is a safe-zone. Free-zone.
Innocent eyes sparkle,
Imploring it to be true. I breathe.
Not againns again. Yesterday I...Not again5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She Talks With MonstersThis girl never had a fear of monsters.She Talks With Monsters3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She allowed them to rest on the insides of her eyelids,
the crook of her neck, the empty spaces of her chest cavity.
She had no fear, there were much scarier things in this world
than darkness, clawing at her back. Living for the night
she etched her dreams upon the bars of her cage
whispering of centuries past because she truly missed the sun,
grass on her back. Frosty Decembers have her forgetting
what it feels like to love, but she knows who she is
she doesn't need the taste of cigarette ash
suffocating her inside her own flesh.
November skies tore open this night,
ripping a hole in her bedsheets.
It is in those dark spaces between
bone marrow and heartbeats that she finds herself-
tattered and breathless, whispering dark secrets
into a strangers ears. Her origami limbs folding
like patterned paper only to reach desperately
for the sun kissed frills of Apollo's robes.
.i want words in my skin.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it is not enough for them
to sit just on the underside
i want to feel them gathered in
the creases of my joints and
i want to see them forming in my fingerprints
i want to see every last inch black and blue
conversation with my window."what're you staring at?"conversation with my window.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
"you're staring at something. you're staring at me."
"that's because you're my window. you're there for me to look through."
"is that all i am to you? just a window?"
"well, kind of. yes."
"ever noticed how i'm always locked, to keep the bad things away?"
"demons can sift through even locked windows."
"yes but demons aren't real. or, well, the ones i'm talking about. haven't you noticed how my blinds are always open just enough for the moonlight to to reach your bed at midnight? and haven't you noticed how i heat up this lovely little chair over here for you to sit in when you get home? ever noticed how comfortable it is?"
"as serious as a window could be."
"how serious is that?"
"ask yourself where you'd be without me. alone in a dark room, that's where. when you were in the fourth grade, and you had to draw that picture of your room, did you leave me out? no. admit it, i'm important to you, too. but it feels like you're