Ode To A RaindropThe first cool drop of water
Released from the skyward mist
On an autumn afternoon
Traverses my sweaty brow
A welcome kiss of beauty
That small elegant raindrop
With fervent haste foreshadows
A wild tempest soon to come
Quenching the earth of its thirst
After long summer months
The drop rivulets across
The surface of my forehead
And I gaze into the heavens
Each subsequent water drop
Is another baptism
Ode To A PencilLead marks swept across the page,Ode To A Pencil1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Forming words, sentences and ideas,
Articulating fundamental truths,
An extension of the voice
That gives a writer strength to bear hardship.
What brutal insanity would prevail
If this was never again utilized?
Written WordChildren of the written wordWritten Word1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You wield in your minds, voices and fingers
The weaponry you need to fight for truth
In your minds, the ideas
In your voices, the ways to speak your minds
In your fingers, the tools to record them
Stand up and shout out for truth
Fight against the tyranny of evil
Don't sit back while darkness spreads its filth
Address the night as it is
And hand out forgiveness where it is due
For words of passion and love will endure
Rise, oh warriors of truth
Narrate all you can, oh storytellers
Be observant and watchful, oh poets
Let your diction be your sword
As children of the written word, be strong
And spread your words like a raging wildfire
Ode To SilenceRemember the songs of silenceOde To Silence2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
That have serenaded your life
With unexpected beauty
The moist crawling footsteps of fog
Embracing your whole environs
Caressing each inch of your skin
And not a creature is speaking
The soft soundless flight of the owl
Commands the night with airborne stealth
Each movement of his wings brings forth
Profound verse not meant to be heard
How quiet is the moon tonight
Its light gliding down to the earth
Silently reducing the world
To simple shades of black and white
The vim of the cemetery
Is felt so much more potently
When voices are left without use
And when words cannot be uttered
Oh, the poetry of silence
Have you let it sweeten your life
As an act of worship to God?
Ode to BatsThroughout the course of the nightOde to Bats1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
When darkness is overwhelming
The bats recite their poetry.
As each verse echoes back to them,
Their understanding of the world
Improves, influencing their movements
And depending on each bats species,
They control insect populations
Or are effective pollinators.
Articulating their subtle verse
And responding to every result,
Ecosystems become healthier.
How elegant are these cornerstones
Of the habitats in which they live.
MeltingA single snowflakeMelting2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Lands upon my lower lip
Melting my cold heart
IntroMy heart beat steady-Intro1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
softly behind my ribs.
The hardest working muscle in my body
and I hardly ever noticed it.
There was an ink-stained sky
swirling like a Van Gogh,
an angry sea raging
ready to swallow me whole.
I didn't bat an eyelash.
It was his hands on my skin,
fingertips haunting every nerve ending
sending my heart
into a cadence that made my chest pound.
My pulse was the snare
and his the kick drum pumping heavy bass.
Weaving a rhythm so simple,
so profound in its effect
*Warm Summer Night*Echoes from distant footsteps*Warm Summer Night*2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Night draws down it's shade
Shadows cast by street light
Daylight slowly fades.
Lace curtains delicately flutter
Hot night, windows wide
Sleepless murmurs, whispers
Day into night quickly glides.
Luminous light on horizon
Light chases shadows dark
Quiet moments speak volumes
Wait, do you hear the lark?
Ode To Writer's BlockStaring at the piece of paperOde To Writer's Block2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Without the faintest idea
Of what to write, I sit
In my chair, pencil not moving
Madness gaining another step
I wonder how many mornings
Or perhaps it was evening time
When Frost sat down to write, that he-
Spent staring at the empty page
Clueless about subject matter
Writer's block, such bloody torment
Making a wanker out of me
Always appearing at my door
At a most inconvienant time
What a terrible patron
For JDBA lot of people talk about when life begins. Some say it begins at conception. Love, however, can begin a long time before that. You can love the idea of a child, the notion, the plans for a future. You can love the dreams and the hopes. Similarly, although a life has a definitive ending, love does not.For JDB2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Even when a child is taken from us far too early the love remains, the traces that they were there remain in our hearts and minds, because love is not tied to a finite space of time. It doesn't know days, weeks, hours. All love knows is the beauty of another being and the pain of the loss of them.
The only comfort we can take from all of this is that if our love for a child is not linked with how long they are alive for, it makes sense that neither is their love for us. That is how love endures, and surrounds us all everyday, and helps us survive the difficult business of living on without them. So today is a day for tears and healing and remembering the spaces in our hearts where those
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.
Ode To A UrinalApproaching the porcelain bowlOde To A Urinal2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Pants are unzipped, thing is whipped out,
A stream of yellow is released,
Much to my impatient relief
As I listen to the trickle,
Steady and soft, I slowly sigh.
What pleasant alleviation
Is given by the mere presence
Of the urinal before me,
A huge blessing to men worldwide
UnforgettableFive years of usUnforgettable2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
learning each other,
loving each other,
before we took our vows
and began anew.
Twenty hours of travel
was well worth it.
The paradise we found
in that faraway land
took my breath away.
and a cabin in the rain forest
overlooking a black sand beach.
Our pale skin pinked under the Costa Rican Sun,
the burn soothed under a cloudless sky.
We watched glimmering stars,
brighter in the absence of city lights.
by foreign tongues and familiar arms.
An experience with no parallel.
Taking our commitment
and testing it
making it stronger.
I hiked on slippery rocks
to get to that special place,
to stand underneath that waterfall
To laugh with you,
to take in the wonder of the world
in your company.
To smile just because…
I married you.
If I Could DrawIf I could draw, I'd draw the world.If I Could Draw2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'd draw abstract with a bunch of swirls.
I'd draw some trees and a small lake.
I'd draw the truth, as well as the fake.
I'd draw my friends and I'd draw me.
I'd draw the details of everything I see.
I'd draw the visions in my head.
I'd draw the dreams from my bed.
I'd let you see the world as I do.
I'd capture what's known by few.
There's just some things words can't show,
Some parts of my head you'll never know.
My drawings are so terribly bad.
Artistic ability, I wish I had.
The PlaylistA group of us lying on the floorThe Playlist11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
in a too-small apartment
that can’t hold a fraction of our disorders
syndromes and symptoms
tucked under the kitchen sink
and in between self help books
and in the pages of love poetry
only half meant.
A group of us lying on the floor
wishing we could see the stars.
but thats not how the architecture
has been set up for us
we have to live our lives blinkered
from the celestial
but at least we have each other.
A group of us lying on the floor
letting music replace our immune systems
not caring if a misspent lyric saves us,
not caring if a dropped note kills us
we don’t care about anything but the floor,
these walls, these chains,
that sound so familiar in an acoustic’s voice.
A group of us lying on the floor
caring about nothing but the ceiling
thats blocking out the light.
Dear DeathDear DeathDear Death4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am writing out of curiosity
And if only out of generosity
I hope you'll humour me
And help me to see
Will you take our hand
And take us from this land?
Or do we stay where we fell?
No matter what we tell
Do you have any mercy?
Or a sick kind of irony?
Do you cry high above the canopy?
Or are you just uncaring entropy?
Why are you so relentless?
Leaving us with less and less
And for all the days we wait
Is it just another day to late?
I guess I won't know
Until, at last you show
I hope I'll be happy to greet
So, until we meet
ax0l0tl Title PoemWelcomeax0l0tl Title Poem2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Cursed burial ground
Final resting place
Path to the afterlife
What lies beyond?
The other side
The first day of the rest of my life
BrokenI'm BrokenBroken1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I can fix you
Don't say those words.
They are full of lead,
a heavy weight
dragging me down.
I thought I'd escaped it all
But now you've reminded me of the past.
-All of it returns.
What do I do?
I am Broken.
I promise I can help.
How can you help me if it's you I don't trust?
That's the worst part- I should trust you.
I'm here for you.
I know you are.
I know you can help.
I know you can be here.
I know you can try to fix me.
Don't say that.
Those words you repeat
are losing their meaning.
What's to be sorry for
if it doesn't exist?
I am so sorry.
I need your help.
I don't know what to do.
The barrier is growing thicker,
pushing you away.
You said I already knocked half of it down.
I don't want to push you away.
I can treat you like you deserve.
I was raised that way.
I know you can.
But my struggle is in my heart.
I will never give up
until I have made you w
The InfectionDreaming of screamingThe Infection2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The names of all the torments you devise
They’re all in your head
Crawling and writhing
Fight the infection
Perform your own dissection
Take these thoughts and neutralise them
Before they take your mind
Probe your own subconscious
Deal with all this nonsense
Remove this parasite
From your deepened thoughts