Sweet DreamsSweet Dreams11 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Lay your head down on me,
Close your eyes so you can't see.
Rest your heart to revive,
Rest your soul to survive.
I'll hold you close to my heart,
As you dream, we'll never part.
I'll comfort you as you lie,
Hearts beat as one, you and I.
So sweet dreams, my loving dear,
And when you awake, I'll be here.
daliin that second,dali3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(when the sun beat so hard i could hear
every waving particle, see the color before it was
swallowed; i closed my eyes and felt the concrete
blaring, the refracting windows aching, and each
bird crackling in the parched trees, feathers rustling
and beaks clacking, blackness bleached orange and
my hands sought in the silence of my pockets,
imprisoned and pallid like a dog yapping in that hot car)
Into a CongoShocks rippled southInto a Congo3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
realmed a loss and screened a track
stacks strung low and around again
She wanted the feeling of mica between her teeth
like lashes on a chiseled tree
totaled through and ruffled down
up and around again
Court and run south and
wrecked a home, she sat still
her knees knit together
unraveled over and into raw skin, over and into
she bloomed her hair into a Congo
It peeled like rose petals beneath her feet
a sheet strung high and low and around again
She said tell me why, but her fingers curled
around your head, around your neck, slowly
and then her shoulders
Sonnet to Breathabout the rib. it makes sense. at Out-Sonnet to Breath1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
back my father picks it up, gets it stuck in
his teeth, and like a brutish harpist plucks it out,
lets it settle. smoking preference? menthol. in-
door seat? the closest waterfall. they knife out
flower from vegetable. “the game” drags students in
collectively, like how a yawn moves-- uncoils out--
humanity starts rippling. how much of school was in
a herd like this? how much was ringworm? out
here is lonelier; my romance is silent. in
time I think of him and am bothered by it. out
the window steeps a sunrise. it’s five in
the morning. can he sleep? my laptop’s out
and holy Book! he’s up, but then— that rib again.
MetamorphosisYourMetamorphosis3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
wing shiverstiny tremors that
will keep rhythm with your quivering heart, only to
later, clandestine and yet nearly poetic, unravel you from the outside-in.
the shut-inthe shut-in3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
where are these keyholes to the Equinox? the stars huddle
like alien nettle,
a gray chime of wrens scaling tree limbs and middays,
Darwin has no lines for me
i've sheetrocked the blistering ivies and blossoms.
i've glassed out daubers and frightening mollusks
pillowing through mud honey and minute old ruins.
intimate with my quiet desk, my paper hoard
i'm still a coward; the envelopes, Obama glass, the dozen unused spiral
diaries are menacing concoctions, minotaurs of lost dimensions.
i used to sleep in creek-beds.
Falling Tree gogyoshia tree fellFalling Tree gogyoshi9 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
in my mind—
to hear it
They say the one who praysThey say the one who prays receives much moreThey say the one who prays11 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
than whom we pray for, shaping what we want
to what we get. We find a way to pour
the outcomes into candle molds we can't
have fashioned for ourselves. But then we light
the wax and sniff the scent and call us blessed
by blessings in disguise. For what is right
in contexts so complex we cannot test?
For those who say that praying contradicts
free will or undercuts the will to change
injustice, fine. You have no wax, no wicks,
no blessing and no curse, you are the sage.
I pray to sculpt the candle and the mold
and scent with pity earth and heaven's hold.
Dead languages and bitter teaWe were directly opposed,Dead languages and bitter tea2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
circling each other in a confining pool,
my mouth seeking yours, but only finding
the fragments of composure you left in your wake.
"Nunc scio quid sit Amor",
you said once, and I agreed with you,
then looked up what the hell you meant
as soon as I was alone.
We went stargazing when we were hungry
and fed ourselves with the names
and the glow of all the stars
that spread themselves out to tease us.
"This is what I see in you," you flattered,
pointing at the sky while the wetness of the grass
soaked into our backs.
"You're that string of pearls, right there,
hanging around the neck of the sky.
You are more than what I’ve been looking for,
more than anything I've ever tried to find,"
you painted stars and lies.
I left you job listings in the mornings,
and you told me my fortune,
in the bottom of my teacup.
We were directly opposed; I told you to leave if you wanted,
so on a night too cold for me to see the comfort in your dreams,
you left, gathering
adventurousyou're walking on a tightropeadventurous1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
as thin and as brittle as
gossamer in the cool rain
I dare you to
take a barefoot baby step
all misty tundra and wind
lay in a cobweb hammock
your afternoon reverie
all your forgotten regrets
you never thought would brighten
of the chances you will take
for it is not an old end--
it is a new beginning;
it is not a winter melt--
but a summer
You Slept Through The Alarm Again - Little AubadeIf, perhaps, you had turned at that momentYou Slept Through The Alarm Again - Little Aubade3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and your hair had caught in your fingers,
the straw being fed into the spindle, struck
by the high, thin light of first waking, the whorl
of a single line descendent from the sun, born
watery from the gap below one velveteen curtain,
all of it staining over gold and dusty and slow,
the edge of your mouth might have met the edge
of my mouth, narrow gaps both without attention
openingif, perhaps you had turned again,
your hand could have met the curve of my neck,
your canvas rough fingers tying knots of my hair
and I would have sighed, thick spreading in your ear
like the light itself learning to speak in tongues
you might understandif perhaps you had
opened your eyes, squinting, eyelashes caged
together, it all would have been edgeless and bright.
O' SisterStart with something, whether it be words or thought or action. Just do something, anything to avoid this dissipating grey matter, neurotic erosion.O' Sister3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I don't exactly remember everything." My words are timid, pensive.
The moments revolve, coil and ignite; flashing images with no particular order.
I scrunch my iceman toes, attempting to conserve heat, but the cold still surpasses the fabric of my Converse. My muscles tense against abrasive arctic gusts. The bitter wind raises bristled hair above goose bumped flesh.
These pink fingers quiver in the grasp of an 'I heart New York" shot glass. I guzzle down Stolichnaya. The vodka is dry-ice against my tongue; molten silver.
Blurred peripherals detect a lone ember drowning in the ashtray, a Marlboro Smooth choking beneath garish glares of moonlight.
"And this kinda s
IceWhen the glacier slides,Ice2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm the one
. . .
Wondering where the right path is, with doubt biting. Frozen memories, icy distances.
When the world grows colder,
I'm the one
. . .
Standing on my own, with the past craving for me. Stolen, missing.
When the snow falls,
I'm the one
. . .
Trying my best, to make sense of it all. Wandering, wondering.
When the hail storms,
I'm the one
. . .
Holding my guard, locking my heart. Smiling, pretending.
JoyMay life whisperJoy1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
joy through your veins
before lidding your eyes.
Abstract RealityAbstract Reality4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Eight times it has occurred,
within a week.
Lets digress . .
Like clockwork cluttering,
it times the release,
a viral curse,
set to a time
like that of a
And as perverse,
as the midnight moon,
insanity is a stark white
begin to whisper
Forcing an extent
Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?
It becomes concentrated,
truth begins to lie,
beneath the surface of
the incorrigible murmurs.
that blur into
Is our house inside or outside?
No longer beholds
the ability to
Reality or Truth.
Stuck within a
cage of mindless
Which way does life end?
i would do anything to get you to love yourselfi know your type, i’ve seen them around herei would do anything to get you to love yourself4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
before, browsing through my poems like
you’re flipping through vinyl records, trying to find
that one disc you were listening to the first time
he leaned over and kissed you.
the only way you’ll ever be able to love yourself
is if he leans over and kisses you again, is if someone
tells you about the seven wonders of your soul, if
someone sits down and writes a list of all your beautiful
fault lines that you’ve never been able to forgive.
you want to love yourself and you want to be loved,
but i know it’s hard to believe that you’re holy,
when your hands still shake when they touch food and
your breath always quickens when you drive
over bridges and no one can look you in the eye
when you ask them if you’re beautiful.
look, you’re stardust, you’re snowflakes, you’re
the sky’s gift to us, you’re comets on a cloudy night
when no one looks up to appreciate how beautifully
The Girl With The Jackalope SmileShe always told me her life was a cake walkThe Girl With The Jackalope Smile1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
But I'll never understand what kind of happiness comes from
Crushing pastries under your foot
She could stitch sunshine along her wrists
And leave the rest of us in the dark
Trying to paint our own cerulean skies
And leaving us all bereft when we only managed
To stain our skins blue
And she could dance a two-tattoo on the arch of moon beams
Licking her diamond lips to taste something more
Willow wick finger tips gleaming with still flames
Tempting a hand into her grasp so that she might
Burn life back into our hollowed bodies
She traced constellations on her lungs
So she could breathe the star dust
And have shimmering breath all year long
Instead of just in December
Her canines glinted when she grinned
Candle drops of light shinning in each tooth
And melting our hibernation patchwork
To reveal our summer skin
Her veins surged with hot apple cider and wildfires
And her cigarette smoke smelt of burning wood
Her orange and red
PoetreeNOTE: The poem should have the shape of a tree. If it looks messy, your monitor is too narrow. Press "Ctrl" and "-" until it fits into your monitor, or follow the link in the author's comments. Thank you!Poetree2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In darkness sweet I dream I sleep; my fate to wait till time is ripe
A tender leaf curled in the seed, an idea that would be freed
I dream of bra
how lilies weepobstacleshow lilies weep3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
are a kind of faith,
as if through some
a bruised clock
veins and cloaked
timed to burst.
i am nothing
if i am not a dream
of yours, waking
from the geometric light
of my window
into a shimmering cup,
poured full of your words
my hips dripping
their tiny mechanisms,
swirling in incense,
growing new teeth,
to bleed through.
i drip and cough
and sleep and bleed
that i am strong enough
for someone like you.
i am taped
and covered up
but you can still see
the endless flaws.
i watch the trees break,
the elastic stretch between moments as
one thing lives and another dies,
as each day i create my chances,
i hold my deck of cards and slice two in half,
i eat one, i rip another,
and i still win the game.
you are the card i never play,
the one i hold on to,
the lucky coin
Prostituteshe struggles from the hardwood like a creamy stallionProstitute4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
drowning in a raging surf. her limbs
the appendages of a white crab spider sprawl bent,
slender supple bones. her eyes
caked on fingernails caked on like dried blood caked
onto her fleshy thighs. her eyes
are wooden chambers locked stone hollow, key swallowed,
dwindling human. Although
her fingertips are faultless pearls, beet hair stiffened curls,
vision whirls, she's still a girl. the atmosphere
folds in like an origami crane collapsing slowly, sharp
corners slicing mostly. Pelvis bony, snowy
shivers, scintillating silver rivers (stream) dampen her tinder.
a dream: lily petals dissolve into the hardwood like cream
I Guess We'll Live To See ItYou should start lookingI Guess We'll Live To See It3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
for a place we can make our last stand.
The dawn is breaking:
Every morning, a little less light,
and the end
is not as close as you think.
Love is not enough,
is not enough.
The desert is coming.
The sea is coming.
they find us holding our thirst
in both hands.
There is no
You should start looking for a place
we can make our last
Take my frenzy for resignation, put your boots
on. I have a lantern. I have a little
knife. We have so much still
to survive. Open
and let the thirst out.
Build. We will stand
until the dawn breaks- and you do not believe
in ecstasy, so we will know,
at the end.
Let Me Down GentlyI never said I was an angel,Let Me Down Gently3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm a feather on its wing,
so when you let me drift
on the next western current,
let me fall slowly down,
I promise I'll land softly,
though you will not find me
where you left me.