My sunshineMy sunshine4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
As the days grow cold
And the nights dark
It's your sunshine that
Keeps me at ease
Even on the gloomiest of days
when the clouds reign the skies
And a bitter breeze brushes by
So paint me in your sunshine
for me to follow hand in hand
Remember me by your side
So I can keep my ray of sunshine
baby drilledif the sun stillbaby drilled5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
shines then the
we've been repeating
what the rain said
spray the earth's
into the bay
let them make
in the riverbed
with one hand
what the other
the night in
TreesTrees3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The secret life
of elm and oak
and thin white poplars -
on a winter night,
grazing the moon
like tapers in December.
I smell earth -
peat and cedar
and the indulgent bulge
crafting the air
like a smith
lost in his work.
Chestnuts bear an offering
and the yearning pall
of pine scents the sky
till it's thick with resin.
And they gather
with boughs and limbs
bent like priests at play,
roots tight as ancient drums
to ruminate on stories,
sinewed in fragrant bark
making merry where
the green bends back
north pacificAudio version thisaway.north pacific2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
icewater and tumblestone beaches, and i wonder, clifftop,
if the fog tastes like forest.
the ocean carves its histories
in the driftwood--creation stories and
lullabyes worn smooth,
bleached to a polish.
it might be sand shifting but maybe--
maybe i can feel the whalesong,
low and deep
thrumming in the hollow spaces of my bones.
i envy the seabirds
who have more room to feel.
the words and the silence_c.words are what brought us together.the words and the silence_c.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
it was the sentences and the phrases, the way the vowels sounded when you murmured them over state lines. it was the way i could hear your tongue roll and your teeth click; the sensual sighs between the beginning and the end. it was the way i could hear the ocean in your voice and the way i could feel the typhoon at the base of my spine. there was no friction between your fingertips and my flesh. there was no raised hairs from the tide of your breath. it was the language and the way we forged it between upraised hands and a prayer. it was the promise of tomorrow and the carved stone we left on our porch step - knowing one day our sails would fill with more than just hope.
Dreams are what gave our words life.
Oh, there was glory in the romance we dreamt of. We saw a legend in our tale, awaiting a serendipitous encounter and we craved to carve out its epic climax with our bare fingertips. Yes there was glory, and even pride. Pride that ou
little grains of sandin the grand scheme of things, we are insignificant.little grains of sand4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we will not move worlds with our love;
we will not shift boulders or shatter mountains or create vistas.
we will not drain oceans or birth giants
or solve the land-locked islands' fear
we will not break monsters (nor create them)
we will not smooth sandscapes or fly cloudless into the shot-through-pastel morning sky.
we will not build towers as far as the eye can see,
endless and worthless and beautiful as the sun.
we will not learn the meaning of the the universe
or particle physics
at least, we will not do these things for anyone but
The MoonriseThe Moonrise3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I'm proud to be an outcast
But I'm proud to lead the fight
For though the dark is rising
We will always see the light.
I'm proud to lose my body
But I'm proud to lift my eyes
For though the pain is sharper
We will always break the ties.
I'm proud to sweat and suffer
But I'm proud to stand up tall
For though the others stumble
We will always break their fall.
I'm proud to watch the moonrise
But I'm proud to end the day
For though the season's over
We will always find a way.
wait and write to me then.don't tell me about the best way to capture the ocean in your mouth. don't whisper to me late at night about the salt crescent moons behind the bend of your elbows or the way that the breeze is tangling my hair around your ears until you're deaf from the wind. don't, for you see it's easy to whisper poetry when the starlit sky is a cliche over the slumbering world; it's easy to be a poet when the ground is rising up to cradle your shoulder blades and the earth is whispering love notes to you in your sleep. this is when it's easy.wait and write to me then.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
so don't write to me then.
instead, wait until the world is rejecting you from her breast and leaving you breathless and boneless on the carpeted floor. wait until your ribs are falling one by one like sand through your fingers and you're struggling to catch them and struggling to keep your feet and struggling to remember why you started this fight at all. wait until the ocean has woken up angry and is throwing a tantrum across your jaw, knocking your teeth ou
FishermenFishermen3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
from tiny boats,
sampans and coracles -
red sails threading the sky
like poppies in the autumn sun.
Whales slip through waves
hunting silvered krill
and the spiny dusk
of urchins clinging to the sand.
And they wait
for lines to pull
their hands under
glistening with eel
hauling the afternoon
back to market
in hempen nets.
home.i press my cheek to the window and for a moment, all i am able to focus on is the pattern my breath plays along the glass. it is a simple emotion and a simple thought and the way my lungs collapse to force the air from between my pursed lips is enough to soak in the rest of my thoughts like a dry and waiting sponge. the voice of the person to my left is butter and velvet, sifting through the air - each and every syllable seeking through the space between us as if to find a resting place, as if with each moment suspended in the air they might be able to find a place to call home.home.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
it is with reluctance that i turn my cheek, drawing myself back from the cool windowpane and i turn to them, my eyes blurred and disoriented. they are naught but colors; they are sea-foam and gravel, their eyes coming into focus to deepen into indigo. lovely, i remember myself thinking. the color of lovely. it is a game that i have always played; finding the colors of words as if i could paint a canvas with dri
You were my melody .Your grip on my heart is finally loosening.You were my melody .4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I've forgotten how it feels to be whole
and right now, this is the closest to whole
I've been in a long time.
I'm slowly starting to forget the way you held me,
the way the sun reflected off your skin,
how my name used to dance off your tongue.
It's like when you have a song you love
and listen to all the time
and then one day you just
And you slowly forget about it,
until you stumble upon it one lovely day,
a year later and it brings a smile to your face but
the feelings it used to induce are gone.
You were my favourite melody,
to which I wanted to wake up and fall asleep to
every day, but eventually
you just didn't sound the same anymore.
ApathyThere is no shelterApathy6 years ago in Other More Like This
from the thunderstorm crush
of your words flaying my soul
in silkened ribbons
of wounds mortal
on flesh raw
with need and desire
unhinged and wanton
to the eyes of ravaged
softly brushed from honeyed lips
pinning my heart
to the callous palm
of your indifference
I am lost in the downpour
of your torrential
Remember.The first letter I received from you was in the fourth grade, do you remember?Remember.4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
It was a message written in orange, on a wrinkled piece of papper, which you ripped out from your book. At this was written : "Do you want to be friends?"
Our friendship kept very long, we grew up but there were still notes coming up. It became a habbit. As time went on, we exchanged more and more messages. It was our way to communicate. Noone could ever find out what we were saying. It was something for us. I looked forward for each little note you folded carefully.
One day, I found a letter from you in my bag. You said: "you are the best friend I've ever had, but I can't see you like this anymore. I like you as something more..write to me."
But I remeber that I didn't write, I run an that moment to find you. You were at the park where we hang out. I took you from the hand, pulled you to me, our first kiss. We were 16.
From then thick as thieves. A year later, you gave me at the same park an e
Heaven Is Not a DemocracyHeaven Is Not a Democracy3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It has been said that there are two forces governing over this universe: those of "good" and those of "evil". Both are necessarily in direct opposition to one another, yet this is not to say that one is absolutely right and the other absolutely wrong. Thus great care should be taken, when examining both sides of ANY tale for the forces of "good" have often been known to blind the eye far worse than the lulling comforts of the darkness ever could.
High above the physical planes of Earth, amidst the brightest of stars, exists a celestial dome called Heaven which houses legions of Archangels and is permanent sanctuary for the self proclaimed deity Jehovah. In foundation the dome is sustained only by the softest, most divine array of primarily feathery white clouds which change color sporadically. For its walls there grew miraculously spectacular twisting vines of ivy that interwove lotus flowers that were adorned in periwinkle and lavender. Brilliant globes of light illuminated down from
Promise MeIf I tied you to a treePromise Me3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Told you to stay if you love me
Would I some day return to see
Your skeleton still there for me
Or would you be like everybody
And just abandon me?
If I beat you, almost to death
But then nursed you back to health
Would you love me like your breath
Or view me as the theft to your soul wealth?
If I tied you to a tree
Begged you to never leave me
Would you still try to get free
Never wanting to be near me
Or would you wait and see
If you're the one for me?
If I broke your bones,
Struck you with stones,
Then left you alone,
Would your heart still be my home?
If I tied you to a tree
Commanded you to wait for me
Would you stay obediently
Existing only for me
Or would you become a nobody
And be forgotten by me?
Ruminations There are shards of brokenRuminations4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
clam shells strewn across the sidewalk,
cemented like frustration to the sunlight
The last snow is melting
as dogs with shock collars chase cracked
frisbees in the choppy wind. It's
February still and the hawks are flying
low, summoned by the flooded muck of
mud and grass. Here is where I kept
my memories of you stolen in the folds
of skyward glances and second chances;
I dream no more and the sunset has left
an oily residue on the wheat fields.
My blood is a woven curtain draped
around my heart, crinkled like neckties
washed by the salty seaweed stagnant
on the shore. Because of you there's
a Jackson Pollock chaos playing static,
forcing white noise in laps around
my neurocircuitry. You are behind me
and I'm flying forwards, tearing through
hours like eternity's huntress. But here
strangersdon't let them see you cry,strangers5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you brittle boned, quiet eyed dove.
you were beautiful once, weren't you?
before you poisoned yourself and started to forget
what love and life and hope all meant.
your poor feathers - stained off-yellow
have carried you too far, and your muscles are too weak
retreat, pull back to the darkest place in town
the one you've spent too many nights
vomiting, crying, screaming and dying, wishing that breathing
would hurt just a little bit less, and now
you're stiller than death, quieter than
the once bright lighthouse, lost to the storms of the
angry pacific winter as
you try to find the places in your mind
where you can escape to hushed places filled with
stories about daisies and sixties love songs.
exist there, and be strong for the few who
are delicate in the same way you are. close your eyes, and
find that there is love written across the back
of these paper-thin eyelids. don't cry, because
your roses cannot hold the weight of your tears, of your
StargrazingOn nights like theseStargrazing4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
we like to call ourselves stargrazers,
deep sky tourists.
We head up to the headland,
where heaven grafts itself to earth,
stitching the breeze between
our cheekbones, our fingertips.
Below, the sea stretches out
with an endless hush. You tell me
we'll sit in the rift
of the tide's smile to keep in touch
with the muchness of being
and believing. But seeing
beyond that pale of blacklight
is another matter. You have a map,
so you take the back of my hand
and paint a picture in mime
and synaesthesiac rhyme:
Our sky is like cats' eyes
kaleidoscoping along a wide road,
a highway of air and neverending
distance, with stars that sink deep
into tar - or maybe sheets - like sleep.
Think of travelling by car, you say. Of
flying then falling. My stars
i scream softer than i whisperthis is it, mental suicide, social breakdown.i scream softer than i whisper5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a king and queen, a hundred fold.
children pouring from every furnace,
i am unsure what is becoming of us,
or if turning the tables is like splitting spines
or cracking skulls.
shedding lips, crucifix formats for our
daily occasions, waking up next to
sheets marked in chalk, post-it notes
placed around the house of where
we should have held hands, made
love, crumbled into one another.
this is bipolar disorder at it's finest,
"i love you."
point blank sentences, curl them around
our tongues, the royal court reading out
queen of the bipolars,
king of anxiety disorder.
[fuck they've caught us on pages,
a hundred stories long.]
there's our throne, laden in blood, crack
children's eyes across our crowns, the
king's jewels all in a row.
what now. what now. what now.
oh right. time to rule. your hair makes
a finely tuned floss, ripping unneeded particles
from crevices, abyss lovers cradled in tumbleweeds.
thank youi could try and disguise thisthank you4 years ago in Letters More Like This
use pretty metaphors or write your name in stars
but i think you deserve more than that.
you deserve what's real,
and this is as real as it gets.
i can still count the number of awful things i want to say to you,
but all i really want to say is that i miss you
and i miss you because i feel different without you
and i still can't decide whether it's good
or it's bad
but there's a meeting ground, in the middle
where we cross paths at school
and you know what?
i think i mean it.
i used to sit here and wonder where i went wrong
i wondered where i veered off the path, where i lost control
but now it comes to me that sometimes, we have to let go of the lives we want in order to have the ones that were meant for us
you have taught me that there is something beyond the horizon
that losing something, doesn't mean you've lost everything
and that happiness consists in loving
not always loving you
Of No ConsequenceSince the cursed day of my birthOf No Consequence7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I've been reminded I am no one of worth
Common as dust, another face in the crowd
no one ever expected me to make them proud
Those expectations were easy to aspire
I can go lower, but never any higher
In debasement and humility I am well schooled
but, this is the last time I will be fooled
False flattery and pretty lies
never again will I prize
Hollow sentiments will be shunned
reparations? forget it. You're outgunned
In accepting the truth I am set free
no more problems of being worthless me
True, I have this one fluke of a gift
alas, the rewards lay on the other side of the rift
All my life a twisted mockery, armed with deceptions
empty words, empty hearts, empty reflections
No confusion about my self confidence
For I write quite well...for someone of no consequence.