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Tempestthere is a difference that I seeTempest4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
in pictures of you, something different
than I knew, when I knew you,
but again,
we were in the sterile confines
of some social construct,
but still, I think
the sex that lies beneath
is something you let few see,
as if it is a secret sea,
that few sails find
the shores
from
Hollow MuseI've sat here sifting through these memoriesHollow Muse5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and sitting in my sadness
but you can only die so many times
before you choose to live
I'm done thinking,
done wallowing in thought,
I'm going to kiss you,
let my tongue slide past your lips
That Seasonremember that season we saidThat Season1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
we were in love and you went
all the way across these united states
back to school in cold old Chicago town
and we wrote letters back and forth
waking up to new words and old words
lines we writ but did't remember
because too many bottles got swallowed
in the darkness, after the sunset,
and you moved back, came by plane
so we shacked up in a studio
locked in a room trying to strangle
each other, both in and out of bed
(two very different strangles)
and I choked and choked, spitting bile
vile words across wood floored room,
tears were shed, slammed were the doors
by angry gestures and cold breezes
Song of Seas and CirclesI dreamt of you again last night,Song of Seas and Circles6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
funny that
whenever I dream of you, we never do
much,
always found sitting somewhere,
bodies tucked real close,
like we're real cold,
though I've never felt
so warm.
They say before the Fall,
humans found themselves entwined
two together,
a complete circle.
But after, we were split in two,
souls to circle
in attempt
to find their other half.
When I have these dreams
and when I wake,
I feel a circle.
If only for a moment.
You know,
I was born on the East Coast,
and if it weren't for that Atlantic,
our villages would have neighbored.
I think sometimes souls get scattered
over spans of
332I know the most beautiful girl3321 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
who looks good in yellow,
but really any color seems to compliment
her skin of perfect shade.
There are many miles between here
and the East –
many many miles.
many many miles.
I see her pictures posted sometimes,
she's always smiling and I cannot help
but smile, sitting here alone in lamp-lit room.
Philosophy Rshe has long hairPhilosophy R1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
it's black and
falls down, down her
back
her eyes are dark,
so you hardly see her irises
and she smiles as she swears
with accent
I used to watch her play piano,
before I knew her name
before I ever sent a word
her way
I hope again someday
I see her on the train
I'll try my best
to be at my best
not so shy
smilingsmiling
next time
Existentialyou're some sort of clarity,Existential1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
when I'm staring out at the abyss –
and I don't pretend to know what
exactly all that means,
but I think somehow
it makes it easier
for me to exist …
Jazz Chorus IOh,Jazz Chorus I6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am a simple charlatan,
prob'bly not kiddin'
pennin' bits of poesy
long late into the lamplight—
the here and now,
I'm figurin' out
is something so
eternal
so difficult to not
disappear eternities away
in frames
of doubt
don't pout,
my darling dear,
there is no fear
with you here near,
ya hear?
Reality Patchworkwhy must my realityReality Patchwork3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
puzzle, cut and piece into place
amongst all the others –
I am not a piece to place,
for in no place have I found peace –
this world is not my big picture –
mother, your reality is
disappointing,
why must I blindly be
part of such –
I refuse
to use my energies to settle in the masses
to join the refuse
of great ideas –
I will be no part,
unless it be the Mover,
who of himself,
is no part,
but a separate whole –
I will be no part
unless it be the axis,
the mad light shining down
when the moon's made full.
Lie in Bed, Thinkingsomething insufferableLie in Bed, Thinking1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
like "clouds
are the thoughts of god"
but clouds are a lot older and a lot younger than anything
beyond the ground
people are the thoughts of god
and the thoughts of people, ants
and elephants
and foxes
sharks
are the thoughts
of the older parts of the ocean
and the ocean
is the thought of the inland jungle
I Just Want to be so BeautifulThe winner of all love storiesI Just Want to be so Beautiful3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the saddest, saddest
things
are coelacanths
to me
and sunshine
makes me so lazy
I know there is a day
that will break my bones so badly
that they will never find each other
and I'm desperately trying to wake up
in the evenings
I want to speak string sections
to the stages of opera houses
from the top of the stairs
I want to hurl
my blood into concrete mixers
I'll be found
leaving notes in library books
and condemned buildings because
I want to be
a coelacanth so
To the Fat Man on the BusIn a sitcom, it would be humorousTo the Fat Man on the Bus3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
to watch you attempt to contain your bulk
in one inadequate seat,
looking at the oncoming passengers
with a silent plea
to find another bench
and an apology for using more space
than is socially acceptable,
but this is not television,
so even though the gold ring on your finger
assures me that someone would love
to share that seat with you,
I look away when I see you
making yourself small against the cold of the window.
Southern Belle - 3PathworkSouthern Belle - 36 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Lady: follow. Take me down;
entire worlds, for a while. Let it drown,
lay it down, consume me. My desire
is ambitious; my smile, precarious-
Slip in and take a sip. The darkfall
is ripe for dipping; as am I, my Lady,
as am I: flushed for picking. Hungered
as the crow, I have salivated to the bone
of this carnivorous being. I have looked
far to find you; the arid blaze of the desert
and the ice-lick air of the plains- yet
it was by chance I found you,
crescenting gleam that you are:
hitchhiker, quiver, quake- somewhere
in the non-existent, conscious weave across interstate.
And now here: two, tied;
we are, we a
Wanderings in Memory11 months ago in Free Verse
More Like This
A Poem to a Lady I KnowThe world has torn you down my dear,A Poem to a Lady I Know1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
but I can see beneath your eyes, wherein your heart lies
a renaissance of mind – and you hardly notice,
tis the sad part, for the dark clouds rolled in some time ago,
and so went with it the light that once shined so openly –
oh just open your eyes to me!
For a single moment let said glimmer shine through,
like sunlight through overcast, casting down in thin rays,
visible in afternoon, peeking through the leaves of trees.
(I know I should not say a single thing of what I think,
and I know you cannot respond to this;
for professional and private lives are at stak
chasing venusa half century pastchasing venus1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
she'd have been bettie page
but she thinks she's fat
cause his fingers can't grip
the gaps in her ribcage
I'd paint you on the side
of a fighter plane
and rise above the birthing shape
of the earth
till the all the oxygen's flowered away
like anyone listens
to the radio transmissions anymore
(as we say
war is always plural
all the skin
and all the soil)
A Chemical Polaroid.Sometimes I miss you so muchA Chemical Polaroid.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and gush all over things
and embarrass myself.
I try to make my room like yours-
green sheets, loud fan, clothes
carpeting the floor. I drink
water like air and dream
of becoming a model.
I dream of the day I have another girl
with a face as soft and sweet as yours.
I want pictures of you playing with chemicals
tacked up on my walls, surrounding me like ghosts
with guns.
You're a flower I want
to lock in a solitary garden,
a bouquet I want
to toss off a cliff,
a golden key
I want to stab into my heart.
scramblei push the pen down, hard, against the paper. the lines,scramble4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
margins, quotations. they become my skin. inky vocations,
drawled and harnessed - the endless echo and sudden
screech of memory. you have a body, and it is
just a body. the warm reflection of your hair in the light
listless and full. the ponderous weight of your morning
heavy against my chest. i have loved so many men.
i am seventeen years old. the fire crackle of youth,
the fireworks prostrated across a torn sky, and who am i
to think that i am so different than the rest?
i used to be an egg shell. i used to be raw fruit. the fullness
in my chest never left, just began to w
Love v. n. adj.LOVE (v. n. adj.)Love v. n. adj.4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I part speech like parting seas,
raising a staff, tracing words in the sky,
like Moses and I as siblings are nouns.
Found biblical, literal, literary,
Book of Proverbs
And as a noun, I have a proverbial urge
to be verbed.
I adlib, filling in
verb, noun, adjective
love me right
I form sentences for you,
but in a different language than your native tongue.
I want to be native land to your pilgrim tongue,
Slip from noun to verb to object
I > am > yours
I read of the time you parted the Red Sea,
now read me.
Follow the curves of my lips
As they choreograph these parts of speech.
A word on its own cannot swim
ralphskilast night, i met a man named ralph, overralphski4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the phone. his number was one i had
memorized for times like these, 3 a.m
ambushes of absolute terror. i stare wide-eyed
at the ceiling, crying to ralph.
no one loves me past 3 months.
no one ever likes me as much as i like them.
he does not talk,
i imagine he thinks i need someone to listen.
i don't. i think ralph has red hair and a
ill-placed beard. i think he is from california.
ralph says,
this is the way life is. i imagine ralph's mother saying this.
apron adorned, glove mitts on,
ralph standing in the kitchen
with a purpose, i imagine. she is humming,
bustling, no noise. she
la block de escritori can't write. it isla block de escritor4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
such a curse and yet such a
great thing. i have a
loss for words, a loss
for everything that was once
sad. now i have you.
and if it comes down
to being in love with you
or being able
to write a really
good poem, i wouldn't write a
single word again.
on things that are poeticI looked up "things that are poetic" and all that came upon things that are poetic4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
was poetry and poetry and more poetry. I do not believe
this is poetic. This is poetry. There is a difference. You
may hold your Shakespeare like it is your dying mother
but his writings are not poetic, he is. There is a difference
in words and the way the wind blows through the trees in
fall. You may not understand this yet but someday you will.
It is the way my friend's mother's most important thing in life
is alcohol and her kids come next. And then her kids become
trash laying on the floor when she finds a man or what she
thinks is a man. This is not the type of poetic th
Coreya.Corey4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you were once heartbroken because a boy with greasy hair
and a dry tongue fucked you senseless on a cold bathroom floor. you used to
write about aching so bad that all your organs seemed to push up through
your throat. the moment you fell in love, every hurt became cliched
and you banished all your former pain. when you told me to grow up, i had
never been angrier.
b.
every night i repeat, it is only skin. he pushes me away from him
and i feel his fingers on my shoulder blades. it is only skin. he pushes me down on
the bed and tackles me, biting my ear. it is only skin. he says, it's just you and me
and even though these are th
You are the moon.i slept through theYou are the moon.4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
sunset and missed
the full moon pressing itself
high into the sky
above:
desperate treelines,
empty fields,
forcing (replacing) the
sun from the evening and
avidly learning how to paint
shadows on the snow
with a fine tipped brush.
Sta.sh
