Got me all crazy.You got me st-stuttering, my tongue fl-fluttering, spitting out cut-up-words––sputtering, before my mind can utter a decent mutter, i'm drownin' in––Got me all crazy.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
visions of you, starting askew, rotated by my brain back into view, you're stripping down to your shoes, do it slower–– hey I like your tattoo, come on closer so we can do this taboo.
––Now turn around, lay on the ground, face up to me; while I bound you down, make you repeat a familiar noun, let me hear that fucking sound, as I grind round and round, oh look what I found.––
Say hello to my little friend, didn't take long for him to ascend, let's see how far he extends––i'll take it slow and sexy, do a little flexing, drag it out until it's perplexing and vexing––got you clenching your jaw, scratching my skin with your claws, every time it gets hot, I pin you down… n pause.
––Ok let's play, it's worth the delay, ima ride it like a sleigh
every night my hair is falling outI have heard that in 7 yearsevery night my hair is falling out1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
every cell in your body
& isn't it beautiful that it will be
a body you have never touched
but I know that when your brain cells
fall like ashes through your skull
they stay dead
& I can never scrap the memories out of their corpses
Candles for Fireplaces Make me a wish.Candles for Fireplaces1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Suspend me in the lines of score sheets,
in the jetsam and flotsam of the shadows of songs
that never got the chance
to be sung.
Bereave the flames from Persephone's care,
AwayYou used to be afraid to lose me,Away1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
so why am I the one that is in pain from your absence?
You used to look at me like I was the only girl you saw,
now I'm just another lost in the crowd.
You used to embrace me like you never wanted to let go,
now you don't come near enough to touch me.
You used to say you loved me,
but I guess that went away.
AloneAlone1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The wonders of the world are at my feet,
creation's endless charity.
Golden sun above, it's warmth makes life sweet,
night stars help me gain clarity
... and yet I am alone.
Roses and daisies and buttercups too,
green grass and blue sky above me.
Mountains and valleys and geysers that spew,
sea as far as the eye can see
... and yet I am alone.
New moon above and Milky Way heaven,
lights that inspire poetry.
Bright shooting stars seen just past eleven,
cosmic dance of life surrounds me
... and yet I am alone.
I hold this truth to be above all truth,
that what we need most, is love.
The absence of love makes earthly joys moot,
what I would give... to fit hand in glove
... and never, ever, again be alone.
MurdererIt’s so easy to take a life at any given time.Murderer1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
But I’m in a good mood…
…so I’ll settle for that spider.
Kill it before it lays eggs.
It’s so easy. Too easy.
Shut the blinds;
Close the door.
You don’t want anyone to see this.
Bring her to her knees. Watch her scream.
What a beautiful scene.
Life is a cruel joke,
Is there a point to all this?
There has to be, right?
He grew up to be the tallest tree
Just to be burned down.
That’s too bad.
No one will remember him anyway.
Friend says she feels alive when she’s dying.
How do I reply?
Whatever, I’ll say something.
Murder these feelings.
They don’t exist if we hide them.
We’re all killers.
Shall we talk about it instead?
Not a writerToday I took my pencilNot a writer3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And started to think
Now what should I write about?
I'm sick of it
Too boring to read
I'm done with it
I lie on the floor and start to sing
Something so sad and something so sweet
No need to write it down
But nothing about
Melody is quite simple
As it comes from the heart
You might think I'm tearful
But no, I am not
Too many reasons why I'm here
Too many questions unrelieved
So many people should just leave
Away, get vanished, disappear
I'm still holding pencil in my hand
Not writing, not trying to understand
But I'm singing to feel something new
Something weird, something so good
I'm not a writer and I don't know how to write
though all my life is one big poem, one big fight
But I'm still singing
This melody in me
And it sounds so perfectly
Forgive me please
Forgive me for this
But I'm not a writer
Just one big dreamer...
SynchronousA little girl waltzes to a tune in her head.Synchronous1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
A young boy begs the streets for some bread.
A mother waits in a hospital room full of dread.
A groom smiles at his wife-to-be as they wed.
An old lady pulls the last bit of her thread.
A homeless man stares at a stores comfy bed.
A boy loves a girl; she loves a woman instead.
A teenager writes a suicide note to be read.
A drunk man doesn't see the truck up ahead.
A once minor virus, begins to spread.
A billion single tears are being shed.
An army of first-time soldiers are being lead.
A colourblind man see's a lady in red.
A heartbeat begins, after being pronounced dead.
© Rocio Belinda Mendez
UntitledI tear at the flesh that confines me,Untitled1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I scorn the bitter blood that runs in my veins,
I despise these brittle, broken bones,
And I hate the sick sound of my name.
I’d break each finger and sear my soft skin
I’d ruin my pretty, painted face,
And I’d blind each eye if it would keep me from seeing
The damnation of this place.
To be gone away, and to forget what I am--
Don’t you know what I would give?
To be anything different, to escape from this;
This is not a life that I live.
It is 10:50 p.m.9:06 p.m.It is 10:50 p.m.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the eyes in the mirror won't stop staring back at me.
is that really me?
those can't be my lips. they're too ugly.
and my cheeks. who would ever want to caress those things?
i need to get up. goddammit, stop looking at yourself!
no. no. no. no. no. no. no.
hah. i've become like narcissus. wonder where my echo is?
fuck. fuck this. fuck me. fuck everyone.
why can't this all just stop already?
don't you dare cry you pathetic, ugly, disgusting creature.
i'll never find what i wa
Poetry AnalysisI was given poetryPoetry Analysis2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Told to pin
her arms and legs
down on my paper;
Take my pen & tear her open
Expose her limbs
And rearrange her vertebrae
to fit my selfish needs
But what the teacher doesn't know
is I already let mine escape
Clutching to the secrets
that still remain inside her
Where they belong
And even still...Wishes upon a star,And even still...1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Like the brilliance of the sun,
Fleeting like stardust
Blink – it’s gone.
And even still…
The sparkle that is left behind
Never fades easily
From the trenches of the mind.
Like butterfly’s wings
Are fragile, be gentle
Or breakage it brings.
And even still…
The powder left behind,
On your fingertips it does dance,
As it goes unrefined.
Mirrors on the wall,
Like shimmering water,
It can distort the image,
And the ego it does slaughter.
And even still…
The cracks it leaves behind,
Do leave room to be filled
With the kindness of mankind.
Sparrows and Train TracksSparrows and Train Tracks1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
She listens to the corpse of a wingbeat.
The stories of faraway people
etched on sea glass and flower petals,
like legends told for lullabies
printed with rose thorns
in the absence of paper.
Do the fingers of clock hands
hold the questions of children,
the way wine kisses guilt
and disposable wedding rings?
Handmade letters and gift-wrapped packages
resemble the music of a laughter
that isn't really there.
How many faces
are the reflections of a moment
dying in the second of a memory-
or the dances in the i love you's
that you never told me.
FateMoira is special, her favourite pastime is observing strangers as they go about their day, everyone looks like a replica.Fate1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She never speaks loud enough to be heard, she's addicted to the silence.
She keeps to herself, no one understands her form of communication.
Today is Wednesday at 1:04 PM and she's leaning on a tree, contemplating the crowd.
She whispers, "I love you" as she sees a man walking in the bustling streets of New York.
Masses of people ignoring one another, trying to get to their destination; a tracing blur.
Such commotion and distraction yet she cant stop staring.
Everyone rushing in this emphatic environment, and he strolls without a care in the world.
The crowd dissipates and he's in pristine focus.
The sea parts slightly and their eyes find each other.
"I love you" she whispers once more.
She turns around and walks to her bus stop––wondering what he likes to eat for breakfast.
He stops close by, behind a tree and observes her for a few minutes
Strawberry (An ice-cream in December)Strawberry (An ice-cream in December)1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
I disassemble –
heart after limp,
brain before muscle.
You hear the pieces fall.
Sometimes, all I can ask for is an itchy blanket over me, and a cup of steaming tea between my calloused fingers, bringing the smell of hot strawberry to my nostrils, until the smile of content overwhelmingly fills my chest. Sometimes, all I can ask for is death.
I don’t like mornings. I never liked mornings. The sun is mocking – glaring from his heaven to a place grey and heavy with nothing but vanity, and shoving his hard light to all the ugliness around. Night is not like that. Night is beautiful. Night smells of wet leaves and falling stars and wishes forgotten in the sigh of two lips touching. Night brings the twittering song of a hidden cricket, a lullaby lost in the fading dreams of two bodies nesting one in another. Night is not like mornings.
The breeze is cool tonight – comforting, dancing around the baby blue curtains of the kitchen. The TV plays in
Let me be your poem.Let me melt the cold pain from your skin, transform into the sun and heat your hurt––so it evaporates into white clouds of hope that inspires the trees to sway.Let me be your poem.1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Let me touch you like the first story I've ever read in brail, after deciding to go deaf before letting another sound replace your voice.
Let me shatter every tiny ounce of doubt from your being, using the weight of my love for you–– to demolish it's once relevant place in your thoughts.
Let me carve holes in to the night sky, so you can see how my universe revolves solely around you, making the moon shine bright with jealousy.
Let me fly you to the nearest nebula, so we can finally be as high as this love makes me feel.
Let me drive you crazy like a mirage in a desolate desert, making you crave it so much you imagine it in front of you, dying for a taste.
Let me be the sun to warm you and you can be the rain to cool us down, and we can make the sky blush a million different colours.
Let me be the baseli
Please, understand.Ever since you told me how you feltPlease, understand.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The pain and misery that you’ve held
Everything that you’re going through
I’ve done nothing else but to help
But every time I listen to you
I can’t help but to feel the same
My morals detain me for leaving you
But I wouldn’t be the only one to blame
One of those NightsThe morning sunOne of those Nights2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
beams through the front windshield
like an intruder:
brash and unwelcome, forcing you to wake.
Whiskey eyed, smelling like an ashtray,
parked at the back end
of some ghetto ass neighborhood
wondering what the hell you did the night before.
It's like trying to remember words
you haven’t written yet.
One thing is for certain:
a little bit of rope goes a long way,
but a lot of rope
will hang you.
Basement Zombiei am immune to colorBasement Zombie1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
my dna is composed of fog
and empty staircases.
staring through glass eyes
at a concrete world
is no way to live.
and each curse
is a slice of
it's damp and numb inside
you wouldn't want to get too close to me.
An Abundance of Similes and A Lack of MetaphorsThe lines of my frameAn Abundance of Similes and A Lack of Metaphors1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
play tag with the phrases
lacking their subject
and their predicate.
I always buy more books
than I can read.
A test tube
of orange light
and a handful of octothorpes
make me tiptoe on the tips
of charcoal pencils.
All the names I've heard,
and they missed out on madness.
I scrub the squares
from chess boards with
to make the equal signs
I forgot stupor plus frivolity
was the formula I got stuck in.
If you look inside
the burnt crusts of my ribs,
you'd find a juxtaposition of forks
The tooth fairy
left them there
in the nooks of my nails-
Stars Wish on People TooDefine me when you take swigsStars Wish on People Too1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the number of your hair.
The unmoving frames
of your Sunday musings
whisper in caps lock;
they want to be forgotten-
they told me,
like I could save you from myself
I’ve always wondered
what it would be like
to play the piano
with my feet on an acoustic run;
the shadow that isn’t friends
with the light like a body part
I’ve always known,
but never quite seen.
I sugarcoat myself
hanging by mere fiction,
a pendulum and a metronome
What are we but allusions
to the people behind us,
ambivalence to the rivers
that never meet the ocean.
It’s frightening how
we’ve been lost for years
but no one’s come to find us.
Dusk it seems
is the lesser of two evils,
midnight is just too mysterious.
DerailedWaiting on the platform, hoping for the soundDerailed2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
of the wheels that rumble in the misty distance.
No schedule or announcement to signal its approach,
No one around for me to ask assistance.
It comes and goes so stealthily, never screeching to a stop.
Sometimes it hits me at a hundred miles per hour.
That's when I get a rush, that racing high, that steals my breath away.
Though I wish I could be struck a little gentler.
Oh here's my chance! It's coming now! Already within view.
Doors open wide, welcoming me to join the ride.
But a voice calls out, I turn around, and it zips out of sight again!
Ugh, right before I had the chance to step inside...
And there it chugs away again, whistling its farewell.
That blasted train I've hardly ever caught.
So here I wait impatiently for its unpredictable return,
My stupid. Little. BLOODY Train of Thought.