We did not expect the world to end.We did not expect the world to end.
It just did.
We kept saying “It won't happen in our lifetime.”
But it did.
We closed our eyes to the cracks in the walls
and they crumbled around us.
We forgot the decay in front of us.
It was so easy to ignore.
It ate away the foundations of our lives.
Still we ignored it
and claimed that life would go on.
We did not see it coming.
Even if it was right in front of us.
We tried to repair the cracks in the dams
though the water had already washed us away.
And though the clouds were black and red
we looked away.
Or stared ourselves blind on the colour display
as our skin peeled away beneath the acidic rain.
We dreamt of the sky
and reached for the stars.
Forgetting the ground beneath our feet.
It tore apart at the seams
the gaps too wide to repair.
And the sun was setting on a world
We did not predict the true apocalypse
though many a prophet had tried.
Their predictions were hollow
and we lost faith.
We did not listen to the real
StorytellerStorytellerStoryteller2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
tell me a story.
A fable of wisdom
or a tale of glory.
Sing me a song
of dreams and
Stories of kingdoms rising
and worlds going under.
Draw me a picture
with colours so bright
and spin me a fairytale
to dream of tonight.
Have you seen my dream?Have you seen my dream?Have you seen my dream?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's not that big
But it is mine.
Have you heard my opinion?
It's worth two cents
It's worth every dime.
Have you touched my heart?
It is very fragile
But I am willing to share.
Have you seen my dream?
It may not be much
But at least I dare.
The WidowHow peacefully he sleepsThe Widow2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
upon soft, silken sheets
as I bend down to kiss
the warmth from his lips.
So softly he moans
and whispers his final breath
so regal and angelic he looks in death.
I gently caress his curled, auburn hair
praying for the angels to take him in their care.
So peacefully he sleeps
upon soft, silken sheets
and I savour the taste
of his last, warm breath
What God has in sacred marriage
may only be parted in death...
Skipping Stones.We skip stones across the sandSkipping Stones.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
expecting rings to spread in pre-historic oceans
as Terra Firma recreates itself according to the original blueprints.
We step closer to the brink
for that leap of faith we never dared to take
before the tide swept us off our feet
and carried us beyond the edge of the ancient maps where
“Here be Dragons”
have been etched into the scorched earth like graffiti.
Sentences get too long as we run out of words to form them
speaking with our bodies in a twisted dance
like larvae burrowing into the crust of the earth.
Seeking deeper towards the internal sun
like an imitation of Icarus
digging deeper until the core melts our waxen wings
and we become yet another particle of our own universe.
from ripples of oceans past
and the sand slipping between our fingertips
as we walk on bare feet across the heavens
in search of answers we have yet to form the questions to.
You used to be my melody.I hummed you throughout the day, you were my favourite song.You used to be my melody.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I memorised all the words, even used to sing along.
You used to be my melody, now you're just my noise.
Your tune brought me comfort, now it annoys and destroys.
I can't seem to drown you out, no matter how soft you sound.
I hear you more often than I'd like, some nights I feel you're around.
You were something to remember, a beautiful little tune.
I just hope to hear a sweet melody, that surpasses yours soon.
Your song makes me sad, I don't want to hear it again.
It hurts to hear it unwillingly, it brings back all of the pain.
I have my own harmony, a haunting song in my head.
With all my thoughts as lyrics, the words I never said.
© Rocio Belinda Mendez
I am who I am.Mine is not a face that would launch a thousand shipsI am who I am.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Mine is not a body that would make men go to war
Mine is not a mind, sharp as a blade nor quick or witty
Mine is a heart that bleeds and loves none the less.
I am not a queen of beauty or elegance of ages past
I am not a model or scientist, nor a woman of career
I am not a fashion statement or a symbol of feminism
I am a woman with hopes and dreams none the less.
Mine is not a perfect home from the magazines
Mine is not the latest fashion or trends of clothes
Mine is not the accepted norms of life or style
Mine is the individuality of not caring for either.
I am not the person everyone else wants me to be
I am not the kind of woman people expect of me
I am not flawless, nor ashamed of the flaws I have
I am who I am, and I am who I want to be.
My Winter Bride Hush, my loveMy Winter Bride2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Not a word
Not a sound
Let me kiss your breath away
as I lay you to sleep in the frost covered ground.
I shall dress you in a wedding gown
of lilies so pure and white
Pleading my vows of love eternal
to you, my Winter bride.
Our wedding bed is covered
in a blanket of virgin snow
Stained only by the secrets
I have forced upon it now.
Sleep gently, my love
Not a whisper
Not a breath
Let me lie by your side
while I love you to death.
The end of a worldAs I look out the window and see the clouds of smokeThe end of a world2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
People are leaving their house,
With their face drained of hope
Close by I see people crying,
In the distance I hear people screaming
The worst is happening,
Only this time we’re not dreaming
The faithful are gathering,
Holding hands and praying
The tainted are bargaining,
Taking anything that can be taken
The weak are jumping off buildings,
Leaving blood on the pavement
Large scale of suicides
Whether by knife, gun, or hanging
It’s anarchy out there
And it has only begun
I’m damned to the flames
Because my sins can’t be undone
DreamDon't wake me up,Dream2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Leave me here in my wonderland,
Among the silly cards,
And chaotic tea parties.
Let me sleep longer,
My jabberwocky is not destroyed,
The croquet game is not finished,
And I only have the grin of the Cheshire Cat.
I am still tired,
Of the realities of being awake,
Of the pain of losing myself
To the monotone world.
Don't wake me from my wonderland.
What The World Is AboutHe said "Daddy, you're the best."What The World Is About2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He said "Son, I love you."
He said "Mommy, hold me close to your chest."
She said "Come here, Baby."
He said "Sister, Why are you so mean?"
She said "Because you don't know what it's like to be me."
And every Christmas, he'd get what he wanted due to his father always at work
Every Spring, he'd play in the sun even if it was just him alone
Every summer, he said he wanted a brother, and mommy said no
Every fall, he said loved going to school
He just wanted to have fun
He was only five and never understood what the world was about
He just wished to be happy forever
He said "Daddy, why are you so mean?"
He said "Because, you wouldn't understand."
He said "Mommy, when will my brother be born?
She said "Soon. Come feel him with your hand."
He said "Sister, Why don't you love me?"
She said "Just leave me alone, I just want to be free."
And Every Christmas, he'd get clothes for presents because Daddy got fired
Every spring, he'd play outside by hi
ThinkYou say I`m cold.Think2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You say I don`t want to be friends.
You say I keep to the shadows.
You say I don`t like people.
You say I`m weird.
I`m not cold, I`m shards of a person.
I`d love to be friends, but I`m scared.
I keep to the shadows to stay out of sight.
I like people but I can`t trust them.
Would you be warm if you`d been broken?
Would you be friendly if stabbed in the back?
Would you walk in light if darkness surrounded you?
Would you like people who made you want to die?
Would you be different?
Before you judge, make an effort to see.
Surfaces have depths, people have sadness beneath.
or maybe it actually is.thisor maybe it actually is.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a love poem:
this is not about
me and how i hate
the way realism tastes.
this is about you.
this is about how you
are one too many shades arrogant,
how nearly every night you
try to forget that time has
left you behind. this is
about your laugh and the way it
whispers "i can't remember
what i was like before i
became this." and,
if i'm being honest, this is about
how i will never see your too
cocky for your own damn good grin that
makes me go weak in the knees.
this is about you
and how you're not real and how i wish
to god that i wasn't either.
tocophobia.the world of pregnancy and childbirthtocophobia.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
has been boiled down to the white,
neurologically healthy babies
in pink and blue knit caps.
“that one,” says the tearful father.
“she’s beautiful,” says the nurse
while the mother rests.
but why is it
that the default image of motherhood
is a white middle-class couple with a picket fence
and a golden retriever?
let’s postpone that cruise to the caribbean
and make a baby.”
what about the prostitutes
who get pregnant?
what about the girls in africa
who carry their rapist’s babies?
what about the babies left on the firehouse steps?
what about the welfare mothers
because they can’t pay the hospital fees?
who have heroin tracks on their arms
(like stitches that can’t hold them together)
where the patient bracelet is snapped on?
what about the 500,000 american children
waiting to get adopted?
what about miscarriages and women
who can never have kids?
we preach for the
The wellThe well, the wellThe well2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
draw no water from the well
The secrets of the depths no living can tell.
Listen, just listen
and then you will hear
the whispers of the children who were murdered here.
The girl, poor girl
she came to the well
a babe in her arms which in the water now dwell.
One more, one more
soon followed the first
crying so fiercely his tiny heart burst.
The girl, poor woman
brought a third to the grave
dead in her womb there was no life to save.
The fourth and fifth were born as one
she brought them to the well
and then there were none.
The woman was hanged from the old gallows tree
when the children grow silent
her soul shall be free.
The well, the well
draw no water from the well
any who drinks are condemned to Hell.
Never Let Him Look South WestThe distance between Dublin and Boston is approximately 3000 miles. You told me this when you were staring south west with the kind of madness I have only seen in sailor’s eyes when they lived in lighthouses too small for their giant ship dreams. It should have worried me, that glint in your eyes. I just dismissed it as one of your navigational tantrums.Never Let Him Look South West2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
When we went to the pub later that evening, you told me I should have the fish and chips, but the way you like it, with more vinegar and no tartar sauce. I said that made it too salty, and you told me that was how real sailors ate their fish. My reactions always were slow to your behavior. I believe the expression ‘at sea’ was applied more often than not when you spoke.
I never thought that the walks you mentioned on the beach when we were children had any more to the idea than the romance of it all. So when you told me you belonged to the sea, I thought you were talking about your soul.
It never truly meant anything
The Radiant BrokenLovely one...The Radiant Broken1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
...stop breaking yourself into
these tiny little pieces that sparkle and shine.
Splashing down from your tentative pedestal,
to shatter and sweep forward in glittering filaments.
Don't you know that each fragment is precious?
The world could drown in your scent...
...swim through your voice...forever.
Your laughter sends souls into paradise,
rising unfettered to the heavens.
Yet you take that pretty little heart,
and you smash it to dust...
...watching your essence disappear in the corners.
Those fingers crumble into ash,
your smile falling like so many gemstones catching the light...
...please stop hurting.
Stop shattering and mend,
so we both might be whole again.
Growing Upit seems that by now I’ve been diagnosedGrowing Up2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with a mild case of weightlessness, mindless
drifting past empty homes and the emptier people
that purchased them. I remember conversations
with you about existentialism
and the almost intricate fabric of my mind and
everything in between, and you-- the way you
paused before making a point as
the words defined themselves in your head:
I remember the day I told you I was God.
Creator of all things unimportant, trapped
in the body of a girl with nothing left to give, you
it must be a beautiful place
inside your head, with a world
that revolves around hope and expectations
the way it was supposed to; all
storybook-perfect like the
wars promise we’ll one day
[I’d like to think that every great leader
once cried themselves to sleep wondering
if they’d ever mean anything and
did things to stand out like smoking
or drinking or pretending to be someone
they’re not and every morning they’d tilt
The PoetFor the work of a Poet to be truly appreciatedThe Poet2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
he must write it with his own blood and tears for ink
his soul the sharpened quill to nail the words
like so many specimen of unwilling insects upon the paper.
And once he has bled out
becoming the cause of his own demise
the reader is left behind to digest his soul
so plainly trapped within a cage of words
his requiem written as a love song to his Muse.
...and everytime i flip...1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
these empty pages,
i can see
are the blank
[i have nothing to say .]
The Koi PondHer father had had koi fish for as long as she could remember.The Koi Pond2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Ever since she was a little girl, she had been hunched by the small pond in the garden with her father, looking at the beautiful fish and feeding them with bits of fish food.
He used to tell her that the koi fish could grant wishes if you wished hard enough.
She was a grown woman now, staring at the small pond with memories flashing before her eyes. She remembered how her father had been sitting on his knees, carefully picking fallen leaves from the water so they wouldn't clutter the small pond. The loving care he had put into arranging the white chalked stones around it and planting Forget-me-nots between them.
Her mother's favourite flowers.
It saddened her to see how the white paint was flaking from the stones, and how weed had crept in between the cracks to strangle the delicate flowers. As she watched, a crimson leaf tore free from the half naked branch of the old tree close to the pond, floating gently through the
That which touches man.WhoThat which touches man.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
What's Left Behind...Some days I find myself staggering from this hovel;What's Left Behind...2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
To stand with shaking legs upon the window ledge.
I look down at the tiny world below, wind rushing before me;
And I wonder if I'll be able to fly tonight...
The caress of the wind, so gentle upon my skin.
One step, one leap and I'd dip myself into the eye of the storm.
But just before my courage sends me;
Just before I take the final plunge.
I find myself looking back, at the world I'd leave behind...
Stacks of paper and a pot of ink,
Reams of stories too precious to burn.
Ideas and fears both rolled into one;
And pages of poetry left undone...
It always leaves me smiling...
For these were the treasures so close to my heart.
They are the wealth of my mind; my soul, my art.
And I could never ever leave them be,
Where another might burn them, without thinking of me...
"Apologies father, I cannot join you yet:
For in this world, a treasure still exists.
A treasure tha