I'm Putting Out Your StarI've spent so many hours looking at you. I know I shouldn't, but I'm drawn to you regardless. My eyes connect with your own magnetic and remarkable pair creating an impossible, but perfect match. Sometimes, when you looked my way, I pretended that you were the one watching me. Even though I know there was someone behind me I dare not look; to know who is capturing your gaze would be a torment I lack the courage to bare. I've taken out my heart and laid it undisguised on the floor, but I don't think you ever noticed it.I'm Putting Out Your Star5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
From time to time I saw you embrace that other boy and I cannot help but wonder what it was about him. I watched as you hug, as you touched and talked in a flawless symphony that was rightfully mine to be in. Did he know how lucky he was to once be in your arms? To hear your soft voice being poured solely into his ear, whilst I had to strain to catch a whisper? Did he hurt as much as I when you were not around?
You were a fascination of mine; one that was impracticable t
Anxiety Attackwe will not lastAnxiety Attack6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the seconds seem like hours
everything is flying frantic
moving faster and faster
beyond all real of grasp
and yet only seconds have passed
although my lifetime slips away
waiting for this feeling to pass
it seems like time slows down
a count down for my next attack
if this is what seconds feel like
I cannot endure the hours
as my palms drip with sweat
as if I’d been drowning out to sea
my anchor is my heart
it beats ragged
a seagull trapped in a net
and the black cloud will swallow me
as this storm too shall pass
but I know now
we will not last
BlinkBlinkBlink5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If you blink
Just for a second
They'll get you
Faster than you think
So remember one thing
you're the oneI woke up this morning,you're the one5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I saw the shadow of death floating above me.
I was told,
today would be my last day.
It was then,
I realized how much I need you.
What I would do to see your face,
the journey I would make.
I'd go the distance,
travel all day.
Walk until my very soul starts to bleed,
because when night falls,
you're the one,
I want in my arms.
© jimmy just
MomentsRemember that time we sat on the bench together, waiting for the bus? You were quiet, like you always were, and I thought nothing of it. But then you turned to me, an unreadable look in your eyes, and you asked me what I liked most about life. I just stared at you, unsure how to answer. You seemed to take my silence as something bad.Moments11 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
“Never mind,” You mumbled. “It was a stupid question.”
“No, no.” I hurried to assure you. “I was just thinking. What I like best about life would probably be all the little moments that happen that end up meaning so much and all the people you meet along the way.” I shrugged and you hummed, turning back to face forward.
You didn’t come to the bus stop the next day.
Remember that hot summer day, the one when it was too hot to even think? I was complaining about how much I was sweating, and you were, as usual, responding with noncommittal noises. The bus was running late that day, and I was cursing every
Holding onto YouLooking out through the window,Holding onto You9 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
my thoughts, only I know...
Since the day I left you
it's been raining, constatly
for days in a row.
As I sit here watching
I quietly ask myself 'when'
will I begin to smile?
Will the sun start to shine again?
For love with you was beautiful
so beautiful....at one time.
You had a way with words
a way, of making them rhyme.
On and on, endlessly
your sweet voice filled the air;
making me feel the love you claimed
- though, it was never there.
Now here I sit remembering
sweet memories, of then...
Hating myself for loving you
and wanting you back again.
what i hearpeople tell mewhat i hear1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
'you're a great writer!'
'you have such talent!'
'your poems are amazing!'
but all i hear is
'you're a horrible writer!'
'you think you have talent?'
'your poems suck!'
that is what my mind hears
when people try to give me
an honest compliment.
and i can't help it
even though i know
sometimes they really mean it.
people ask me
why i doubt myself
i've told them before
they must have forgotten.
but i will say it again:
my mirror is broken,
and my view is distorted.
everything i see of myself
looks ugly to me.
Nothing Pure Shall FadeSunshine forever fallsNothing Pure Shall Fade1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
despite night's misty shawl.
Sweet-springs that constant drain
are filled with summer's rain.
And flowers, blooms subdued
from winter's frigid mood,
in spring are quick remade.
Nothing pure shall fade.
fishermanI am a fisherman-fisherman2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
all roaring waves
and rush of sea salt
beating seagull wings
and a tongue carved from
My hands break levees
and my breath births dams
the taste of chilly morns
still melt on the roof of my
mouth like I never wished
for anything besides the smack
of sodden rubber boots and
the scars from entangled
hunks of ivory nets
the sea has not
forgotten my voice-
I can hear them
when the wooden floorboards
crackle like hurricane bruises
from water laden saunters
through land sunk libraries
it has been a forever
since I held a dream
caught between my fingertips
and the gentle rock of a
boat and foamy froth on
but this new trip I have embarked upon
carries more clanking hooks
than screeching sinkers
yet- my line has not changed-
I am a fisherman and the sea
forget who its children are.
Chapel WindowThe parish waits nowChapel Window1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
in wind-chip and scuff,
the loneliness of corners
crawling outward on walls;
cobwebs align them
like the membranes of memories,
the cut of a jewel in a broken window;
through the rain
gathering in a mesh of strands
a new Mosaic
my eyes seek out the sermon,
paint no distance
between headstone and cloud;
elegies topple each other
in their climb to heaven
as light beams shear the shade,
heave a new glow by candles,
measure the weight in these empty rows
as if something came bearing down
on the silence that never ceased being prayer.
Lonely BirthdayHappy birthday,Lonely Birthday1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
but they don't know
who they're saying it to.
and eat the cake
that was made
and they don't see
the girl who is me
even as I try
not to cry.
It was a lonely birthday
for me today.
And this is proof
that some people
just cannot see me.
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.Her Catalyst1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
naive this is new york, new yorknaive2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and i'm burning under the
cold coffee is crawling
over the bed-side table;
my fingers have gone
numb at the tips -
arctic fantasies of
Remaining unwrittenI wanted to write poetry from leavesRemaining unwritten5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
about how the wind made them rise into their own story,
about the passing light of every day
when darkness spreads its wings around the world but is seen flying after a faint sunset.
I wanted to write poetry from memories
about what makes a faint glow of light shine when we can see the darkness,
about the past which never looked back at us
even letting us learn that we can live without our regrets.
I wanted to write poetry from amazement
about the emotions each word carries away into the hearts of many,
about the hardships people go through
and how they choose to grow into someone who can inspire.
I needed to write poetry from love
and through the same heart show that i can write about the truth,
and find a reason to keep talking cruelly
because i never wanted to hurt you.
The paper soulPicture the soul of every child,The paper soul7 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
as a pristine delicate paper ball,
filled with love and happiness,
innocent and whole.
This fine intricately woven filigree orb
inside of all their hearts,
must be cherished protected and loved,
lest it fall apart.
A remark out of place
is like a slap in the face.
Taking the fool
and all ridicule,
can crush and destroy this beautiful soul,
leaving irreparable damage untold.
When paper is crumpled, creased, dashed and trodden,
the marks left are plain to see.
With the soul it's the same, hurt, scarred and broken
and bullied into misery.
With apologies you may want forgiveness,
like the paper you try to smooth out the creases.
But the paper is beyond repair
just like a soul full of despair
It's too late to pick up the pieces.
Poetry by Suzanne Karbach October 2014.
Power WithinOur hearts shattered, our minds broken, eyes in tearsPower Within10 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A world which has been bringing us down for years
Following the times of great sorrow and grief
Moments of happiness are quite rare and brief
Clinging to reality, that silent thief
Has left us robbed and showered in disbelief
You see there is no secret to contentment
Joy comes from compassion, and not resentment
A word, a prayer, a trinket of a kind
In times of true despair leaves the addict blind
The luck does not come from the object indeed
But reminds a person to keep calm in need
I tend to keep trinkets for times quite frantic
Never forgetting that they're not mantic
Recall, when everything seems out of control,
The power hidden within your heart and soul
ColorsYou break my heart all over again.Colors5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Each word you say, hurts me some more.
If you ever left my life, i'd be thrown over the edge.
Inside, I'm left with nothing but red.
Colors describe who I am.
Black, for being incredibly sad.
Blue, for not knowing who I am.
Brown, for being a bit confused.
Purple, for being a bit hated.
Pink, for that one time I found love.
Red, for the blood that's spilled about.
Orange, for trying to move on.
Yellow, for seeing the sunlight.
Grey, for that sunlight going away.
Green, for the money trying to purchase my happiness again.
The worst pain I've ever felt,
was when the monochrome grey came about.
Constant refueling who I am inside.
Making me torn to shreds.
This injustice that was caused to my heart.
My rainbow was taken away right from the start.