autoflowerreorganize the bodyautoflower3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my artillery is a hall full of dancers
because to avoid death the ocean divides itself
and divides itself
until it's a shadow full of rooms
or eventually even the acid and the earthquake
But we've imagined this backwards.
the elephant's battered radiation talks all prophets from the building
Upon the stockpile mouths flood dry
and so many cardinals
of that hollow universe
And so what, auction the wind
After, no one will be left to speak
and I laugh because the same parts divide us
For the machine:
I hang these plane crashes from your clotheslines
ConfessionFather. I fear I have sinned.Confession4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My child, what have you done?
I couldn't help myself. It was so beautiful. I had to feel it break beneath my fingers; its blood slick my hands, my tongue, my throat. I had to have it in my mouth. I tore at it with my teeth, peeling the skin from the bone. Like jewels, its life dripped from my tears and my scratches. They welled and slithered and dropped. Incandescent beneath the harsh light of where I had caught it. Such a beautiful creature now withered in my hands . and Father?
You want to know the most delusional part of it?
At that moment my vision became clear. Light shown down upon me. Did I see an angel Father? Did I serve our lord by destroying such a beautiful thing?
No, my child.
OceanWe sat together by the curb,Ocean6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
On the steaming summer brick.
I was your inhale, you were my exhale.
Side by side.
I miss you.
You catch me off gaurd
and I stumble.
I laugh uncertainly.
I'm right here.
See the clouds?
You tilted your head skyward.
I point to the puddle on the sidewalk.
I tell you.
A whisper of a smile
darts across your lips.
I smile for real.
Not a whisper,
but almost a shout.
I taste salty sea beneath my nails.
Your seaweed fingers found
Seashell patterns between my
We were nowhere near the ocean.
i hope you remember to bring the flowers.the stars whispered latei hope you remember to bring the flowers.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
as we lay beneath their
"what if i die today?" you asked.
and i told you in that case,
i'd see you by tomorrow.
.the reaper plays.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
solitaire when he's got
some time to kill
but when your time's
up it's back to work, cos
he's gotta make a living
like the rest of us
Be My MuseNever love a poet.Be My Muse5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Everything will mean..
so, so much more to them than it will
Never let a poet love you back.
They'll instill you with so much beauty (with their pen crushed to the paper),
that you'll scarcely recognize yourself in a picture
And you'll hate your reflection in a mirror, after seeing your reflection
in their eyes.
IgnoredI never noticedIgnored5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
This mutual feeling
Of unrealized hatred
As you start ignoring me
More and more
I can't deal with this
You're supposed to be there
For me when I need it
Yet, you shove me aside
Like I'm not here anymore
Like i've let you down
Now you ignore me
I can't stand it
I'm heading closer and closer
I can't control it anymore
This overwhelming depression
Thanks, for not being there
When i needed you the most...
A Troll's LifeOne of the big ugly trolls,A Troll's Life5 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Through dark corridors he strolls,
Just waiting for that call,
That signals the start of a brawl.
To be bred for warfare,
Doesn't seem very fair.
But what can you expect,
When nothing you touch remains intact!
Not like a Goblin, a scavenger,
But more like the Plague, Death's Harbinger.
Nothing dares stand in his way,
His stench keeping even allies at bay.
Swinging with a tree,
Not in a disco-ish way,
But like in a killingspree.
I guess it's morally gray...
Not to start about his fashion sense,
He just dropped all pretense!
A loincloth and sometimes a chain,
Can it get any more vain?!
No choice but to look at his abs,
When knights are being turned to scraps.
I guess being badass is his only form of bliss,
Since I don't see HIM pulling of a True Love's Kiss!!
5:17 AMand it's sad to think5:17 AM1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
that if you came back
to tear me apart
i'd let you.
wastebasketcrumpled sheetswastebasket6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
of discarded paper
lie about and
litter my floor:
the corpses of failed poetry
are strewn about
near the trash bin
and the door
like fallen soldiers
in a long forgotten war
discarded and forgotten
stepped on and kicked
this is what wastebaskets are for
Tomorrow i won't remember youT o d a yTomorrow i won't remember you6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I ripped a page out of a magazine in the waiting room
Just because I could
And to be frank
I had been waiting too long.
I deserve a souvenir
And the girl in the magazine
reminded me of
T o d a y
felt like it
And I don't really
give a fuck
Of lung cancer
Because at least I won't have to miss you so much.
T o d a y
I bought flowers
and gave them to
Because I felt sad
In their smiles I saw your happiness
And I wondered
do you even smile anymore?
T o d a y
I wondered aloud on a crowded bus
How you were doing that day
I got stares
didn't really care
and i wondered aloud
if they even realized that i wasn't cra
Why I Write - HaikuI can't form the wordsWhy I Write - Haiku1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I have to say when I speak
And they must be said.
A pencilA pencil3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A pencil is a small thing
Irrelevant to most
But it can create anything
It can create images of a beautiful coast
It creates images that can change your life
It creates images that will withstand time
It creates words that make you feel alive
It creates words that can describe a crime
It tells a story of the past
While looking forward to the future
A pencil shows you a world which is quite vast
It can create images that are quite obscure
A pencil can defeat a sword
But it can also create a sword
So if you're ever down
And you are sitting in your room with a frown
Pick up a pencil
And let it guide you to a world
Beyond your wildest dreams
Tell Me a FableTell me a fable.Tell Me a Fable5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A tale of heroes and dragons
Kings and princesses
And an empire of pure magic.
Tell me a fable,
Of a land that lets me dream without limits
And pretend that the world is a perfect place.
You can't have it allbut you can have the glazed heat bursting from the blacktop like a brokenYou can't have it all2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
fire hydrant. You can have the jangle of keys
swinging from your hip with each stride.
You can have the tactility of leather and the graze of
bathroom mosaic tiles under a cold shower pelting
bullets and when the water cuts off
you can have dry book pages. You can have happiness,
though it will often be bitter, like finding a stranger’s
wallet full of pictures of smiling children until you
return it to find that the couple is barren.
You can have the scratches on the back of his knuckles,
faded, yet raw. You can have the translucency of sheets
in the sun, silhouettes but no details,
never revealing anything more than a fringe of hair
and frayed laces tripping over themselves.
You can drop obscenities like bombs until
they don’t mean anything anymore. You can pull out the Monopoly board
that broke your family. You can’t put it back together,
but you can pretend the thimble is your mother and the
the impossible language of iceis it seriousthe impossible language of ice2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
do people like words
on the inside of their fridge
are they happy, or am I happy
no, no this is ridiculous
though a relationship
with a fridge door
with incorrect spelling
of words upon it
and one without
i fear will not change
the position of happiness
and yet makes one yield
to a magnificent beast
that leaves me to grow
the ingredients of soup
though it sounds like the
impossible language of ice
Glass Girl and the Stone ManGlass Girl and the Stone Man5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The glass girl met the stone man,
she said "hello", he said "hi",
they soon fell in love,
the world seemed suddenly alright.
The stone man's big hard heart,
swelled with joy and pride,
as he saw his pretty little glass girl,
twirl and glitter in the summer sunlight.
They frolicked and danced,
till it was time to go back;
the stone man missed his strange people,
and the glass girl didn't understand.
The stone man couldn't explain why,
he couldn't take her back to the stone city;
he knew the glass girl was not like him,
or the people he knew since he could barely stand.
He delayed the moment of return,
although it hurt them both;
he didn't want to let go of either,
the glass girl's love or his family ties.
The one night as they lay under the kind moon,
with the glass girl sleeping in his arms,
a solitary stone tear crept down the corner,
of the hard hearted stone man's eyes.
It fell on the glass girl's angel face,
and shattered her into a million pieces,
the stone man finally broke the g
AlcoholicYour tux is the colorAlcoholic1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
of a coal miner’s face
after a long, hard day of work-
something you’ve never
had to experience
yet you talk as though
you’re just as worn out;
your trivial chit-chat
is turning syrupy with every sip,
although your sentences
aren’t getting any sweeter
you grab another glass
of the effervescent liquid,
hoping the sea of people
will turn to black dust,
and it will be dark enough
for you to fall asleep
as you walk tipsily to the bathroom,
the overpaid opera singer
belts her last high note- a bit too high;
your crystal glass shatters
into a thousand pieces
And with it, you shatter too.
The Little Boys Rag DollThe little boy took the rag doll off the shelfThe Little Boys Rag Doll6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
This rag doll was made just for him
Every stitch, every bit of stuffing
Was all just for him
Made for his enjoyment
This rag doll received
Every kiss, every cuddle
Every free moment he had to give
Then one day the rag doll
Spent more time on the shelf
Then in the little boy's arms
She waited for him to come back again
He came back to that shelf less and less
He left her on that floor more and more
He'd step over her like she was just any toy
Not one that he used to kiss and cuddle
The rag doll lay crumpled on the floor
Feeling unwanted, unloved, and forgotten
She still waits for that beloved boy to hold her once again
That rag doll is me
Dante's Inferno Riddle ChallengeKnown not for name, but nothingness, my goal;Dante's Inferno Riddle Challenge3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A man, not many, made my moniker.
Cold was I called for leaving that call,
My heavenly name never heard again.
The first, earthen name foretold what I left.
Pilgrim, guess my name if you're to persevere.
Make Me FeelAnd there are times that I love youMake Me Feel7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(( So much ))
That it's not even
It becomes a c.r.e.a.t.u.r.e.
That lives in my insides
Up my throat
out into the world
With fingers like branches
And it feels
All the things I
Whale SongI found their remnants, drowned and buriedWhale Song8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
below warm waters and swaying wrecks,
hiding beneath centuries of sand,
their large, starched bones watery tombs.
They were scattered; our hands discarded
their dead in pieces,
the hunt for a loved one
impossible among the spinal columns
of diasporal sorrow.
I could feel their presence,
a large and looming shadow
at the corner of my eye,
accusing my flesh of brutality and
a sadness long forgotten by man.
I found their young there,
the kidnapped ones, slaughtered,
their cries trapped in fine needle bones
that sweep this ocean's floor.
Their songs adrift on currents
in search of a deep shadow
to call home
or a fountain of love
spewed to the trade winds.
Mothers, tasting the blood of their young,
frenzied inconsolable in sonar grief,
love song in throat,
echoed themselves off every surface.
They flung themselves, heaven bent
and hung themselves on our boats,
sacrificed on beaches of men.
I can still hear them calling,
mourning the young, the old,