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Forgiveness,Martin Luther King, Jr. dreamsForgiveness,3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
don’t exist no more,
and I can’t compete with
Ginsberg’s howling—
my words clatter like broken
plates, and my dreams:
They are the world collapsing
into a maze of broken homes;
stark white horizon and billowing
smoke; pedophiles in elementary
schools; and looking back, a blend
of hope and nowhere to run:
As a child: I whispered, home
but the keys were lost and we
waited in the cold until our fingers
turned a bloody, frozen red.
Dad came home from work—
angry, angry like our fingers,
and it was gone.
He told us he was sorry;
he didn’t do a good job.
It’s okay, it&rsqu
some idioms- part i of iilet sleeping dogs liesome idioms- part i of ii1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
said my best friend
while every cell
in my body
shuddered in stupor
wanting nothing more than
to forgive him again
after having gone
a good quarter-year
without him already
when it rains it pours
said my little sister
as i held her hand
bawling in stupor
after watching him
hold her hand
as she gets out
of his car to
lead her unto
his apartment door
between a rock and a hard place
i will say to myself
after realizing that
i had gotten into
this new relationship
simply out of spite
& that it would be
evil of me
to lead him on when
i can't ever belong
A Coward Angel“Go”, this is what they told you and you turned your back and left. I remember I saw you from the window; it was a summer evening, around eight o’clock when the orange of the sun had painted the sky. That orange light lay on your face. I still remember your expression. Pain, pride, and disappointment. I still remember… I’ve never been an expert on those things, these are complicated things, I don’t interfere, but that rejection hurt. Something you said, something they said; this is how these things happen. One word brings another and you end up hating yourself. But I think you didn’t. You took your tA Coward Angel3 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Four SinnersSt Peter rapped smartly on the door to the chambers of the Lord, before pushing them open to see the homely white room beyond. The Lord stood up from his seat at the desk and welcomed the saint with open arms, a loving smile on his lips.Four Sinners3 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
“Peter,” he said, his voice soft and deep, like a father’s to a toddler, “how is it I may help you today?”
“My Lord, I know it is unorthodox, but a group of murderers have requested your presence at their judging.” Peter replied, “Each claims to have an injury which excuses their sins.”
The Lord considered this, then nodded solemnly, walking slowly out
An Ode to The PhantomThere is a boat on a lake,An Ode to The Phantom2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Burning candles on a cold black mirror.
And this journey I will take,
To find the man that I’ve been looking for.
I’ll find him I swear,
Chase him into the blackest night,
I’ll find his lonely lair.
And dry the tears from behind his mask.
What will lurk behind?
Some haunted face or tender spirit.
I shall say words truly kind,
And try to put his broken soul together.
Across the keys his fingers dance,
Enchanting beauty and bewitching senses.
I am lost within a trance,
And I know I’ll be forever his.
Away from judgement and from light,
We will spend the years together.
And I&r
Haiku Ika-UnomHaiku Ika-Unom7 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the morning mist fades
a golden sun revealed
her eyes kept westward
vietnam."i meanvietnam.3 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
this was my childhood -
watching the nightly news
watching the cities burn"
Shattered SymphonyBefore the ice crept into your veins and settled,Shattered Symphony9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Before the cracks in your heart were petrified,
Was there something other than ancient dust?
Hiding in the hollow echo of disused synapses,
Where nerves once sparked into singing chords
Rattled down time taut strings of frozen organs,
Buzzed through the vena cava and battered valves,
To swell lungs full with gasping, desperate breaths
While drum beats thundered, and the tempo jumped,
Crescendos of flustered words and twisted tongue,
Chasing the sun drenched notes from honeyed lips
To pin them down, caught upon a pulsing manuscript.
If there was once something more than what is now,
A Beginning Worth StartingI'm waiting for a beginning worth starting,A Beginning Worth Starting9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
A first chapter with an undeniable hook!
To pull you between the lines
And drag you deeper into ink than words.
My winding, weaving plotline path,
Whose story holds the darkest villains.
For heroes are dull as dust compared,
To the creeping, grasping gasp
Of a good baddie's evil laugh.
And a scheme that tricks even the best,
The quickest witted reader's mind
Who believes they've solved the mystery
Only to find the ground has dropped,
And they stand over open darkness
Where answered questions have lay it wait!
Yes, that's the 'begin' I want to hear,
To read and live and jump into!
Wi
Lady LustThey sat together at a table set for nineLady Lust9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Just him and her, then seven empty seats
To wait for guests who failed to show
Even when the clocks struck twelve
Chimes to shatter moonlight with their blows.
"Should we not wait for them to come?
His question stretched through the room
And crossed their silence sat between
Their two chairs at opposite ends
So her face and features remained unseen.
"But they are here can you not see?"
She asked with faint amusement
As his eyes searched the empty space
And found only what had been
Leaving him to wonder what was meant.
"No one sits here but for us my dear
Apart from dust there is just a
The Eyes of a DragonCan you see it through her eyes,The Eyes of a Dragon9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Those distant fading memories
In vast and endless skies
Where horizons could not be set?
And can you find time before beginning,
A prequel to Adam and Eve?
Or the apes who stood to men,
And walked with swords upon two feet.
Discover hidden beneath time dulled scales
Where there's fires from ancient years,
Which burnt before the strike of flint
And paled only in others through fear.
Her claws once curled tightest grip
Alongside bated and excited breath,
As perched on the dizzying precipice
She held no fear of what she could drop.
She'd leap from cliffs where none would follow,
To unfurl her sta
Thank YouI wanted to take a momentThank You9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
And say thank you
For reading all my writing
No matter how much I send you
Or how scrappy the words
Because we both know
I hate to proof
And my spelling...
Well let's not mention that
But I will say
All about
How wonderful!
How fantastic!
How great it is
To have someone to read
The pieces I hate
And chew my nails over
Because they don't match
To the old stuff
The other stuff
The stuff that I've written
That I've liked!
It makes it easier
Easier to writer when I know
That there is someone who reads
Who favs the pieces
The pieces I wrote
Because you everything I send
You read
And then you
My LadyA diamond noose stole the breath from her chest,My Lady9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Where ribs caved beneath creaking whalebone corsets
And her hands lay useless against the curve of her waist.
An hourglass standing with each grain assigned,
A time and a place, a husband, no thought for her mind.
To be instructed and moulded into icy precision
Because in her heart the royal blue ran in vain
And her prison was forged before birth by name.
Fairy tales make pretty the twists of her life
As she's wound into tapestries, the good, obedient wife.
Let those who weave take for granted stillness in her lips
And forget to check the eyes which dip from sight,
For those who's
SmileIt might as well be blind eyes behind lenses,Smile8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
For all the miracles of airbrush, Photoshop,
Have left us with no true concept of beauty,
Just clouded retinas and fun house mirrors.
Corpses walk our catwalks, posing as mannequins,
But even the inanimate have more life than bones.
I could count the ribs around struggling hearts,
And snap brittle, twig arms in desperation,
Plead for them to listen, and see their own destruction.
Because their beauty is lost in flesh decay,
Until only specters haunt each fashion house.
What hope is held for those who us counted mundane,
If models are counted sub-par, below,
And to be stunning lose t
In the FutureI've been passed an empty sheet of paper,In the Future8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
And on it I'm expected to write my-
Dreams?
Why did you pick that topic?
Because my dreams are disjointed and random,
They don't have any cohesion or order!
It would be like bursting open the ink cartridge
And creating a blue splattered stain!
To me it would make sense,
And I would be able to name, explain each droplet,
But you would be lost between streaks
And drowned in the puddles not yet dried,
Because my dreams spiral through closed eyes,
And inhabit the darkness of night and sleep,
Where confusion is acceptable and expected.
Oh!
You wanted me to write down my ambitions!
Now you
Incomplete"Tomorrow morning, that footstool goes!"Incomplete8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
And I'm left to listen to my own voice's echo,
As it bounced back off half-painted walls
And round corners without the skirting-
Next weekend's promise still etched in pencil.
But faded past the point of a stranger's notice,
And even your mother has stopped commenting,
On the second landing's crooked light fixing.
I must have asked you a hundred times before,
To throw out that footstool in the hallway.
Bought at some junk shop, three streets away,
And just awkward enough, so that I stub my toe,
Every single time I walk through the dam door!
The same door you painted pink to annoy John,
Ne
Cunning LinguistYou remember the sigh of her lipsCunning Linguist3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
as she said, "craft me in metaphors,"
and you remember the swell of her breasts
(and boy, weren't they swell?),
but what was the point in time when
she became an object to you:
glorified poetry, all the more lovelier
for being print on paper?
(she insisted on using the type-writer:
she didn't want the stylistic flourish
of your hand.)
What was she, then?
A gramophone face, box jaw
opening and needle-point tongue
rising as she trilled song after song,
as much a linnet bird as she
was a record player;
her sculpted neck
the gradient of a ski-slope,
but you'd never call her
lily-white
(no gal likes to be com
Emotional ParadoxThousands of tiny black drops splash against sapphire skies,Emotional Paradox3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
shedding a rain of tears that fall upward into the night,
an introversion of a life led upside down
A flash typhoon, a rhythmic storm, an echo in the rain,
my heart is an ocean of emotion,
sometimes a wave, other times a tsunami
Along ambiguous drafts in the air words take flight,
Sometimes like daggers aimed for the heart they leave their mark,
other times a whisper in the wind as gentle as waves drifting along the shore on a calm mid-summer night
But that isn't cold,
not until "frozen" is re-defined so that ice could freeze,
and flame stands perfectly still before its r
The SkullShe'll speak to the dead with her head on one side,The Skull10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Punctuate conversations with the roll of her eyes,
For jokes loose their bite once the dust takes my teeth
And laughter is dry without a tongue or lips and speech.
Watch the cracks for my mind and I have long fell out,
We were in for a while but overdue another bout
Any apologies would be useless in this little war
The maggots will mean the argument is lost for sure.
Once the stone grows too cold she will bore of my grin
But don't put my skull back where I lie straight and thin
Up here is a sun to bleach the old bones white
And a silver sheen smile beneath the evening starlight
M
The Devil's SonnetBleed your heart to cast my inkThe Devil's Sonnet10 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Then sign upon the flesh and skin
For madness hangs upon the brink
Where you drown in poisoned sin.
And eyes I stole from lovers' sights
shall deem with only me to kiss and lie
Reclaim on those stolen lusty nights
When letters bind the name and tie.
Can you catch the devil's tongue?
It's twisted within your own
And can you claim this deed so wrong
When all hope of redemption had flown?
Think with thoughts as black as coal
To match the state of your sold soul.
She set Fire to HerselfWe’re just two kids whoShe set Fire to Herself3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
cannot share our toys
except
toys have turned
into cigarettes, bus passes,
olive branches,
and hearts
like
I wake up at 2:46 a.m.
every morning
and am hauntingly aware
of your heartbeat
it
pulsates in my floor boards,
shaking my typewriter
free of its perch
and
every morning at 2:48 a.m.
I crawl to it and write
the same love story
again and again
but
do you know the worst part?
It’s not even our story.
Newspaper SuitI am a charlatanNewspaper Suit9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
peddling fraudulent wares
but nobody else can see
the pushpins
where adhesive didn't stick.
And you'd think the paper trail
from the newspaper suit
would give it away
but the pictures keep smiling
while underneath gangrene begins
and happy happy faces
mask the smell
of death.
ScholarSomeone must have been the first to call him Scholar, but whoever it was they were forgotten; alongside first name, surname, Scholar's real name.Scholar6 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
'Why though?'
Because— Because people forget the unimportant, sometimes the important and always the words that do not interest them. There are many uninteresting things, and Scholar's real name was one of those, no one was interested. No one was interested in who Scholar was, his name had never meant anything to anyone, so why would you waste space in your head remembering it?
'It seems cruel.'
Aye, it does, but that doesn't make it any less true. I don't think Scholar even remembers what he wa
Ineffable: A Rubaiyat Sometimes, when it's tranquil and I get to p o n d e rIneffable: A Rubaiyat2 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I begin to fathom we're made for each o t h e r;
I know that God plumped up my chest and its c o n t e n t
to safeguard your worn out bones from curling o v e r.
Laced, our hands trace shadows under mint moon's c r e s c e n t;
we are lost causes and divulged dances o u t s p e n t.
I know my skin is downy as opposed to y o u r s
for you to take shelter under my winged s e g m e n t.
Still, understand that you're the reason I can s o a r,
accept that we're a pastiche of paramour c o r e s.
I'm th
Sta.sh
