My Painting of YouI painted you today.
Rolled up the paper,
and carried you in hand.
Gave you to a girl,
with your eyes,
and chestnuts in her hair,
Made her smile,
seeing butterflies in a field,
but she gave you back,
when she saw
they are going in the sunset.
I put you on
my dreaming wall,
to be my last glimpse,
of my world
before I remember
you're only a painting.
Supermassive Black HoleStrings of starless strandsSupermassive Black Hole3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
lasso my sanity,
as a Lyzzard's tongue
slays unawares a fly.
Distorted snarls melt
my glaciers in the dead of night;
vibrating in the frequency
in your wells of gravity,
you set my soul alight;
spinning towards the singularity.
A blink before the light,
the brims of Space
of satin waves
smile and unweave a word:
SeptemberI don't know why,September3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I still break down and cry,
At times I find myself,
Wanting to shout out for help,
I want to tell you that I love you, but I don't know,
I just don't know if what we had before is possible,
I hope that you'll always remember me,
And the good times that came to be,
Forget the arguments and the fights,
Step out of the shadows and walk into the light,
Maybe one day we'll talk again,
Forgive each other for our sins,
Until then I'll hold it all in,
Because sometimes it takes two to begin,
Honestly, I just want this month to be over,
As days go by I can feel my heart grow colder,
This would've been two years together,
I really thought that it would go on forever,
My phone reminded me, said it would never end,
And when I read that, it dug deep under my skin,
But never is the longest 5 letter word,
Because now your voice may never be heard.
Abuduction.Abduction.Abuduction.3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Another convicted paedophile free to walk again.
Currently living by a primary school looking for some new prey to stalk again.
Masks himself as a confidant, someone that the children can call a friend.
Specialises in seducing and lulling its victims in to a false sense of security.
With an ulterior motive driven to defile and desecrate their innocence and purity.
How is this ungodly predator somehow able to evade all configurations of authority?
No one is capable of figuring out why this predator has these vile and vindictive thoughts.
No one can possibly understand how much torture and suffering his actions have brought.
To every family and carer that nurtured, loved, raised and taught
Their young to avoid and not to communicate with strangers.
Performing their duties as guardians, preparing and protecting them from any danger.
For them one day to be kidnapped, taken, leaving only their clothing as remainders.
After the investigations and DNA testing all the headlines will
Sticks and StonesI'm not emotionally unstable.Sticks and Stones3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I don't cut.
I don't only sleep after I cry.
I don't self harm.
I don't want to die.
I'm not who I am because of my music.
I'm not who I am because of school.
I'm not who I am because of what I watch.
I'm not who I am because I'm trying to be cool.
I don't want to gain attention.
I don't want scars either way.
I don't want to be judged.
I don't want to mocked because I stay.
I hate when you call me emo.
I hate when you call me dyke.
I hate that you're my family.
I hate that you hurt me through spite.
Today I heard you say;
That if I changed school I wouldn't be emo.
You're like my second father.
And yet what I feel; you never know.
You have no idea who I am.
You have no idea what I feel cause I'm lying.
You have no idea that I hurt easy.
You have no idea that now, alone, I am crying.
My sisters think it's funny when I get pissed off.
My sisters think it's funny when I cry.
My sisters' jokes are cruel.
My sisters tell me they'd laugh if I were to die
Somewhere Between Creation and Beingthey built him out of sandpaperSomewhere Between Creation and Being3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so he could help those
a little rough around the edges
they gave him rose-colored irises
and put his heart in his throat
so he could only speak love
they wrote him a history
deep within his DNA
(lingering, and a little too clingy)
but he learned to live on promises
instead of mistakes
they gifted him off-center feet
that always leaned into his dreams;
he was tall enough to live
with his head in the clouds.
sometimes waiting gets to you.
it settles your leaden bones
and you forget why your legs won't move
you fall a little too far
into everything you're praying on,
and you don't have the strength to
pull yourself back into normal living.
but he was different
he didn't believe, he knew
time didn't slip,
he nursed it
and he never broke
even though they piled
the weight of the world
on his expectant shoulders
A Letter to No OneThe clock ticked against silence,A Letter to No One3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Upon the cemetery of a room.
Deep sighs weave through the air,
Meager warmth in compressed despair.
Moths fall prey to a musty lampshade,
An opened window to Night’s gloom.
Thoughts dance like ripples on water,
And clouds on the hiding moon.
A lullaby plays from the gentle sound,
Made by scratching pen on paper.
One story told too many times,
Is voiced from words created.
Though this time revived from lies,
A phoenix forms the ugly truth.
The pen rolls from the wooden desk,
Having served its final use.
Old dusty dolls and teddy bears,
Watched helplessly through glassy eyes.
No star showed to twinkle hope,
Not one ray from the busy moon.
On the clock’s tick, a rope was hanging.
On the clock’s tock, a form was thrashing.
A tired, hoarse throat gasps for life,
Cut abruptly by the Reaper’s scythe.
Poems on the shelf with an unknown author.
Paintings on the wall left unsigned.
Just another heart trapped in horror,
An unfinished l
A Step Too FarA Step Too Far.A Step Too Far3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She just couldn't take it anymore.
She threw her purse and her child's lunch box on to the floor
Of the fourth storey of the local car parking complex.
The lord only knows what will possibly happen next.
She begins tugging on her hair furiously in agitation.
Talking to herself having an in depth conversation.
Pacing up and down and aggressively talking in tongues.
Labelling herself as an unfit lover and mother to her husband and son.
Tears begin to cascade from her face violently.
She didn't tell her husband about her woes instead she chose to silently
Keep it to herself and let it eat her up inside.
But eventually she ran out of places to hide.
Her phone begins to ring but she chose to ignore it.
A picture of her husband and son appears but she wishes she never saw it.
A small crowd begins to formulate beneath her.
Familiar voices shouting and screaming trying to keep her
From edging any closer to the edge.
But her toes continued to embrace the unstable ledge.
Difference Of Opinion.Difference of Opinion.Difference Of Opinion.3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
Just because you did it.
That doesn't mean I have to.
Just because you can do it.
That doesn't give you the right to
Untouched BooksDirty fingerprints crust the pagesUntouched Books3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Of the books of forgotten lore
That have laid here before all ages
Untouched from before-
Unconcerned with reason or rhyme,
Longing for those finger-shaped prints,
They have waited all this time,
To be imprinted with darkened tints
But all that meets them is the chilly air,
And the quiet whispers of phantoms past;
And still they wait with silent flair,
To be marked with fingers again at last
Sour CrayonsMy hands are tree-minded twigsSour Crayons4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
twiddling wooden thumbs; pencil-
fingers scratching pulpy paper;
pushing letters single-file into
I am revisiting recurring childhood
dreams; thoughts of stone tumbling
themselves shiny and sleek; oils of
voices, tranquil and frictionless,
reflecting rainbows when mixed with
the water of conversation; rivers of
synergy flooding behind dams.
Now I live with disconnection and
disassociation, dripping into every
relationship, dull or sharp; cutting
vocal cords to make room for audio
wires carefully wrapped in swirling
I taste memories of sour crayons,
their colors defining their savory
sting. Chew on this stubble; strewn
about, leaving a small trace of
visions of a time long before now;
living tales of ancestry, linking
steps in a spiraling ladder
defining each individual.
And now, with the exception of
purpose, and the denial of the sun,
we make our farewells.
AThere is birdsong andA3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sun-drenched long limbs,
sprawled across India green;
wet hair haloes and
a restless route scrawled
up arms and over hands.
There are blueberry smiles,
feet upon dashboards,
and city-light fireflies...
then there is you.
Always, always you.)
ProdigalShe made hot chocolate that morning -Prodigal3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the kind that sticks to the mug
and burns -
and baked an apple cobbler,
deep dish warm with butter and fruit,
for the prodigal had returned.
She turned out the sheets
on his bed
and hung his jeans
out to dry -
the bright flag of denim
announcing his return
to everyone on the street.
Slowly the neighbors trickled in
to wonder and gape -
offerings of spiced ham
and ale, brown bread with raisins
and freshly knitted socks and mufflers
in soft merino shades -
all bundled as if in tribute.
They wanted to see
if he could still sing Amazing Grace
in his fine tenor voice
and drink the men under a table,
his fists the only answer
left lingering in the dark.
They hoped to see
the tall buildings
in his cheeks,
and the alley's long shadows
bruising the skin
at his temples;
and maybe he had stories
birthed in wine
and women's hips that would
steam the bite
off their jaws
and make their wives blush.
For a city left its mark,
as if proof was needed
StifledWe kissed in the shade of oak trees.Stifled3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We held hands in the chill of the river.
We ignored the council of wiser men.
And now our love lives like that summer:
It shall ne'er bear heat again.
My Aching FleshPoems creep along my skin;My Aching Flesh4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
They ache to escape from my pen.
But my hands betray me
They stop, they delay
my words are stunted
they make noises they grunted
In my face
Far from commonplace
They scream at full voice
They leave me no choice
my wrists bleed black
the words attack
and tear at my arteries
no place to flee
Until some time, between dawn and dusk
I'm left a hallow husk
The words are written, and I'm totally drained
no more life is left in these vains
until The woman I Love: Calliope,
comes, and breathes life, into me
Poem: You're a Big Boy NowYou're a Big Boy NowPoem: You're a Big Boy Now3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Lace up your boots
And walk out the door,
You're a big boy now,
Learn to live like it
Keep your head high
And think for yourself
You're a big boy now
Learn to act like it
Drink your coffee
And finish your work
You're a big boy now
Stay with it
Retract your fangs
And live on your own
You're a big boy now
Get over yourself
Walk away from the mirror
And dry your tears
You're a big boy now
Look away from your past
Promises were kept
And debts were paid
You're a big boy now
Die happy today.
Internal ConflictTheres a war going on inside of meInternal Conflict3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And I cant continue this fight
There's nothing left of me to bleed
and I can't find the light
How do I tell her how I still feel
when its been over for so long
How do I even know what is real?
and how my love can be so wrong
Theres a battle raging inside my heart
and its taking away my sight
How do I stop it from tearing me apart
when I know nothing is right
I'm scared to even talk to her
because shes happy without me
I want the pain to be over
I just want to be free
There a war going on inside of me
and I can't continue this fight
There's nothing left of me to bleed
and I cant find the light
SilenceIt is thereSilence4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When I ask if he still loves me
And the rebounding quiet screams
His unspoken response.
And the occasional reluctant verbal translations:
"I don't want to talk about this"
"We are not having this conversation"
Codify this as the official language of our domestic domain.
"Only silence is spoken here."
It is there
When I ask my child:
"Why have you done this thing?
Endangered yourself, hurt me, hurt others,"
And her reply consists only of a murderous glare.
How dare I break the house rule and speak the forbidden tongue?
And I'm left to wonder if she even cares.
Do my words even matter?
Am I even here at all?
It is there
When my best ideas are offered aloud.
Did I misinterpret the fact that I was elected to this position?
Was it a perception of reticence that was my sole qualification?
My words echo off the walls in the absence of noise that follows,
Meriting nary even an acknowledgment,
Just the deafening roar of soundlessness
Admonishing me for
Breaking this hallowed silence
Star CollectorThey said he collected stars -Star Collector4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
plucked them one
from the abyss
left dangling off
with his father's best
He could feel the future
in their shiny points
and the sharp prick
of something maddening
glowing under their silver skins;
and when he held them
their embers glowing -
tiny spines curling up
to tell him stories.
But their laugh
was what he loved best -
sea breeze and green glass
and the whistle of a dandelion
shedding its blustery mane
across the pebbles
of the pond.
If I blinkA blink ago I was sitting on the playgroundIf I blink3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
My sunny red hair pulled into two little pigtails
With the ribbons I had begged my mother to tie into my hair
Because I didn't know how to tie a bow yet
A blink ago I was hiding behind my mother's leg
My first time experiencing something new
A brand new world, a school of new people
But it was then, when I peeked around her knee
When my big brown eyes caught sight of my first love
A blink ago I was on the playground again
When my first love told me that he liked me
I ran away screaming "Gross!"
Because I still believed boys had cooties
A blink ago
he held my hand for the first time
And a blink later
he kissed me cheek
A blink ago I was in a hallway
Trying not to be trampled by the giants around me
Suddenly aware I was nothing but a speck
Aware that everyone wasn't each other's best friend
A blink ago I walked the hall with my first boyfriend
Followed by the curses of the witches and dragons behind us
Gripping to that
HerstoryHer-storyHerstory3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I can't describe to you how much I love her.
I actually feel nauseous just at the thought of her even thinking of another.
In all my short life I never even thought I would ever discover.
A woman that I would be proud to name as my baby's mother.
I know that if I were to hypothetically loose everything, we would still have each other
And it is my chest only that she will caress under the cover.
Of course we are bound to argue and I will occasionally confront her.
Although I might not say it, I might even imagine her being someone else's lover.
And it's because of my insecurity and paranoia I end up making her suffer.
I'm just so used to everything going wrong sometimes I forget there is a book underneath every cover.
But the books I have read and heard about have forced me to think twice and not even bother.
They teach me to remain loyal to my masculine nature and become the perpetually lusting hunter.
That cares only about himself and disregards all others.
However that is n
Sleeping, Dying BeautySleeping, Dying BeautySleeping, Dying Beauty3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
White hairs replacing her golden locks,
dark bags, pale skin, the millionth twelve o'clock.
Eyes closed, arms crossed, breath blocked.
Far away, to her he does not dare walk.
In her dreams, there is life and hope.
In her dreams, there's a way to cope.
She dreams in color: red, green, and blue.
She dreams her dreams are more than dreams,
she dreams her dreams are true.
But the veins have shown themselves,
clearly underneath her thin hands.
Dust covers the romance books on the shelves,
shelves that can no longer stand.
In her dream, she is in his arms.
In her dream, he looks down at her with stars in his eyes.
In her dream, she is far from harm.
In her dream, she and he watch the sun and the moon rise.
In his world, another is in his arms.
In his world, he looks down at his new wife with stars in his eyes.
In his world, he protects her from all harm.
In his world, he watches his son take his first steps, watches him fall and rise.
The candles flicker in the lonely
PrideAs my eyes explore the sky,Pride4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I wonder how it is you lie.
In such a masterpiece the world complies,
I wonder if you've ever smiled.
For merely hate falls from your lips,
Disgusting dark vile is all that drips.
Hate and happiness cannot coexist,
Not even in the delusions you twist.
So why can't you just let things be,
The world won't live by your decree.
When all you do is throw a fit,
No wonder filth is all you emit.
I'll keep my minds fixed in the clouds,
I'll carry on smiling proud.
Maybe one day you'll grow bored,
Finding your actions go on ignored.
And if they catch an ounce of attention,
You'll only be met by pure dissension.
ImpatientIf you talk to anyone who waits at red lights or cares about fashion or owns a gun, they'll know a thing or twoImpatient3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
about all of us; all of humanity. We are all flowers, we are all little universes, we are all the underdog future.
And maybe this is completely true, and maybe some girl pierced her ear in the 8th grade bathroom, and maybe you
have sand in your shoes from that visit to the beach last week. What does it matter, is this an absolute?
We are all pieces of God, we are all forgetting about Heaven, we are all waiting politely for death to break in
through the bathroom window. You can ask the stains on the sidewalk, the birds who refuse to build nests, the
faded black hair on the barbershop floor. They will tell you that this all does matter, and if you care about your
children, it's an absolute, too. Sometimes I run through traffic lights, wear half-unbuttoned flannel and scoff
at the glory of firearms, but you can talk to me whenever you grab my shoulder and take a moment to stop s
Your Name's My Best ObscenityThe sweetest curses are sugar on lipsYour Name's My Best Obscenity4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
If I died this evening, you'd find your name
aflame- the words I last shouted in vain
lingering on my tongue like a toxic kiss-
revenge is addicting, venomous pain,
even spent on cries I know are mundane
No fixing up this unholiest tryst,
forged by two fools who believed in their lies;
or maybe it was I, eager for light
even in spite of the flaws I had seen
Can light be fake? Were your twinkling eyes
a mere disguise to make me ignite?
Aflame, in vain, impure light fuels my screams