Category: Writers Block
I've never seen forever,
Yet I feel it in my heart,
I wish I had forever,
Yet I also wish for never,
Never be alone,
Forever be together,
Never see never,
Forever.
The Pitcher
It is perched on the edge of a table,
Filled to the brim with blood-red juice.
They walk past in shrowded gloom,
It shudders,
It falls.
Slivers of glass lay scattered amongst the juice upon the floor,
She picks up the pieces,
And tries,
To make them whole again…
She can’t.
It now sits on the table,
Empty,
Scarred,
Ruined…
FOREVER.
She traces her fingers over the divits and cracks,
The glass cuts her finger,
She bleeds,
She cries out in pain…
She smiles.
Love
Love is like a paper-weight. It holds you down so very tight. It won't let go until you lift. It clings so tight. Love is a gift.
There once was a man named Juda, Who liked to consume smoked Gouda, He liked to eat jelly, He chucked full his belly, and now he has the body of Budah.
ONCE
He told me once he loved me,
Then he picked me up and hugged me,
I want him to hold me once again,
He was more than my father,
He was my friend.
Those times are gone and fading,
The memory of his looks still shading,
Never again will I hold his hand
for he has gone to the promised land.
All that I have to say,
Is that "Daddy, I miss you everyday."
Awww, Meghan, these are precious...
It seems you feel that you deserve the world.
My rage towards you burns like the torrid sun.
When I met you venom whithin unfurled.
You're way beyond infinity from one.
Some day I hope that you begin to see,
Why your friends keep on walking out the door.
Without much thought I think I've found the key.
Refrain from egocentrics evermore.
The circumstances are looking quite glum.
I can't believe that there's no way to make,
you see the person that you have become.
I'm sorry girl, but plain as day, you're fake.
And now I think it's time to say adieu,
imaginary friends mean more than you.
ALONE
A solitary word,
In a solitary place,
A lonesome little girl,
With big tears upon her face.
She reaches from the darkness,
Her memories all erase,
For she's a lonely little girl,
in a very empty place.
LEAVING
She remembers how it used to be before he was leaving,Before the time of broken hearts and fears and tears and greeving.
She remembers how he held her close, late into the night,
When her body shook with shakes and sobs from dreams that caused her fright.
She remembers how he used to smile and call her his little girl,
When she was with her daddy, she sparkled like a pearl.
She remembers late one cold dark night when her daddy went away,
She shook with sobs and sarrow, because Daddy couldn't stay.
She remembers on the long ride home, with her heart up in her throat,
She was only half a little girl, without her daddy, she was broke.
Very very good great imagery particulary in the Gothic poem about the pitcher ..
THESE TEARS
These tears are forloneliness, sorro and fear,
These are for fighting and losing th war.
These tears are for empty like an overturned pale.
These tears are for me, for I am alone.
THE WEEPING WILLOW
They say it weeps, but they do not know why,
It weeps by my window as I shudder and cry.
It reaches my heart and craddles me tight.
It sings me sweet lullabies late in the night.
This dark tree of sorro knows all to be known,
For it caries our burdens and lets out a moan.
He told her he was leaving.
For months now she's been greeving.
He said his love would be forever,
But never again will they be together.
He went off to fight in the war.
Her tears were streaming as he walked out the door.
His life was taken as he was shot to the ground.
Her dreams are still haunted by the murderous sound.
sorry, that wasn't the whole poem. part didn't show up for some reason.
He told her he was leaving. For months now she's been greeving. He said his love would be forever, But never again will they be together. He went off to
fight in the war. Her tears were streaming as he walked out the door. His life was taken as he was shot to the ground. Her dreams are still haunted by
the murderous sound. He has lost his precious life. She is a widdow, for she was his wife.
I love you with all of my heart and more,
I constantly hear you from a distant shore.
I'm reaching and calling to bring you near me,
Please oh please say that you hear me!
Not just that you hear me, but no how I feel,
Tell me this miracle really is real.
This next poem talks about a camp that I went to last summer. It was full of so much love, and I long to go back so badly that it brings tears to my eyes. I wrote it just when I returned home.
I REMEMBER
I remember the friendship, trust and care,
I remember how everyone was always there,
I remember the feeling of more than one friend,
I remember wishing it would never end...
But wishes aren't often granted, it's true,
I remember I loved it, now how about you?
She was beaten and whipped so she layed down to cry,
In a pool of blood where she was destined to die.
Her father came and looked down at her face,
He kicked her twice quickly and left with no trace.
Her lover there found her after two hours past,
and he took a breath which was his very last.
There they were found, their lives drawn away,
Their lost lives are mourned, but they're together this day.
IF I COULD
If I could, I'd take your hand,
And lead you away to a wonderous land,
Where love takes over and wraps round your heart,
My light soft sweet kisses would just be the start.
I'd lay my hand in your soft silken hair,
No longer so bashful, I'd let go of care,
I'd pull your warm body right next to mine,
I'd move your world and be your sunshine.
I'd tell you all things that I'd sure love to say,
and cast my love light in bright beaming rays,
I'd kiss you one last time long warm and deep,
and nessle in close for a long lover's sleep.
I wrote all these poems in my free time last year at school, or my not-so-free time when I really didn't feel like learning the same thing for the fortieth time. lol. I hope you enjoyed, and I may post some more in the future.
I just wanted to say thanks for the complements.
meghan. These are so good. I love them. They are the most precious work of art I've read from a zoner so far.
Aww. Thanks a lot Carie!
some are so deep dark and some contrast tot he dark and like light. but please keep on writing as these are good and the wording persing and the imagery so cleare but they also flow in like a story and not just on one standing moment, which shows talent in my view.
She holds the blade to her throat,
pressed by pain,
Drawn by memory,
If he had just once told her she mattered,
If only he had held her,
just once,
that's all she asked for,
it's over as she slides the blade...
just once..
only once,
she falls,
she gasps for breath...
just once,
She lived, she dies...
just once
Ache
In my heart
there is an ache
that had to start
my spirit to break
It left me weak
and all alone
to you I'll creep
please take me home
Where pain can leave
and joy can fill
no need to greeve
no late night chill
Take me my sweet
oh take me away
or I'll never defeat
this horrid day
But if you to me come
and cradle me tight
to you I'll hum
sweet songs in the night
So take me from here
away from my past
and hold me dear
or this day is my last.
i really like some of this stuff. though i'm no expert where these matters are concerned i'd say that you definitely have tallent.
my particular favorite is
"I'm sorry girl, but plain as day, you're fake. And now I think it's time to say adieu, imaginary friends mean more than you.". that's just a great line! lol.
keep them coming meghan.
I cried today
for the little girl that died today
I mourn today
for the family that was torn today
I'm sorry today
that I didn't share that story today
I'm greeving today
for Laura is leaving today
She's gone today
so come and sing a song today
They'll cary her away today
because Laurangel couldn't stay today.
Sorry I never said good bye Laura. You were an amazing person, and I love you. Thirteen is to young. I'll hug your your little sisters for you.
Meghan
My God, Meggan, you're a distinguished poet. Have you considered getting your poetry published? Keep up the good work!
Hey thanks. I've considered, may be a project for this year. I'm not sure yet. I need to write some more first.
Four deep cuts
The blood flows
down the drain
away she goes
wow!!!!!!!!! Meghan you are such a good writer. Keep on writing.
aw, thanks Lori!
Very nice good luck in the future.
Meghan, Thank you for sharing these. Some I like more than others, some move me, and some disturb me a little, but they are all good, very good.
You’ve come where you shouldn’t,
You’ve done what I wouldn’t.
You’ve gone much too deep.
You’ve pulled me from sleep.
You’ve lost all my trust.
And you’ve earned my disgust!
You’ve taken my pride.
You’ve heard that I cried?
You’ve read this poem through.
So, you’ve learned I hate you!!!
If Mother Earth Were to Close Her Eyes
If Mother Earth were to close her eyes,
She would begin to realize,
Why the little colored child cries,
Oh!, If only she would close her eyes.
If Mother Earth were to close her eyes,
And listen to all the putrid lies,
Surely she would surmise,
That all her people should close their eyes.
When Mother Earth closes her eyes,
The tears from the child’s face she dries,
As she rocks and sings her lullabies,
The child drifts off and closes her eyes.
If You Are
If you are the sunshine, then I am the cat,
Warmed by your rays, taking a nap.
If you are the spring rain, then I am the flower,
Drinking you in, hour by hour.
If you are the laughter, then I am the smile,
And we'll fit together for more than a while.
If you are the nighttime, then I am the day,
We kiss when we meet, and I wish I could stay.
If you are the pain, then I am the sigh,
I'm always here baby, if you need to cry.
If you are the current, then I am the stream,
As you carry me off, into a sweet peaceful dream.
If you are always, then I am forever,
That is how long we will be together.
This poem of yours, "If You are," is so tender and beautifuly penned. It seems as though this is the kind of writing that would appear on the inside of a Hallmark Greeting Card, you know the kind, "When you want to send the VERY BEST!"
Meg, it is the most Beautiful poem I've read for a long time. Possibly ever. thank you.
If time were to stop, just for a moment,
I’d cherish that instant and drink it all in.
If time were to stop, just for a minute,
I’d make sure that minute was spent with him.
If time were to stop, just for a day,
Fine silver threads of memory I’d spin.
If time were to stop, I’d sure take the chance,
To run in the rain, and smile, and dance.
Friend to Friend
Looking back, I wonder how,
I’ve made it to where I stand now.
As I view the scenery,
I ask myself to remember me.
To not stop doing the things I do,
I tell myself, “I’ll always love you.”
I’ll hold myself up, until the end,
How can I make it, if I’m not my friend?
I know I won’t make it, if I’m all alone,
So I’ll ask my dear friends, to shepherd me home.
If you’ll take my hand and lead me from whence I came,
I’ll never forget you, I’ll treasure your name.
I speak not of love of the romantic breed,
I speak of the love for the friends that I need.
You lean on my shoulder, and I’ll lean on you,
We’ll be friends forever, together we two.
that's beautiful meg, thanks for sharing.
The blades of death are dancing, dancing.
The thought of blood entrancing, prancing.
The happy girl is leaving, leaving
She has stopped believing, grieving.
No more time for trying, trying
Her friends and kin are crying, dying.
Her days were filled with fears, fears
She only lived for 18 years, tears.
God, I don't know what to say, they are really deep, it seems to me like you've gone through a lot, they are beautiful.
wow. you're ..really a good poet.
The Rainbow of the Other Four Senses
No, I’ve never seen a rainbow,
no, I’ve never seen the sky.
Still, I know of the world’s beauty,
So many wonder why.
I’ve felt the vast deep aqua,
Of the ocean at the beach,
And I’ve felt the white-hot sand,
Burning on my feet.
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I’ve smelled the green of luscious lawns,
After fragrant springtime rain,
And caught the sent of yellow daisies,
As they rock and nod and sway.
I’ve heard the dark of nightfall,
As the crickets trill their tune,
And heard the light pink love call,
Of a dove: a gentle croon.
I’ve tasted the red of cherries,
So sweet and fresh and cool,
And I know the orange of oranges,
With their tang in juicy pools.
Yes, I know the red of anger.
Yes, I know the black of hate,
But I focus on the colors,
That make this world ornate.
Spring brings flowers,
Happy hours,
A lovely green,
And love unseen.
Summer heat,
Love grows concrete,
With red of joy,
None can destroy.
Fall brings peace,
Lovers release,
The blue of love,
Farewell sweet dove.
Winter chills,
Love it kills,
Blank white end,
No longer friends.
2 more beautiful poems meg, thank you. I like the first of the 2 by far the most though.
Post 48 was very, very good indeed!
Awww. Methinks the Meghan is a splendid poet. The Rainbow of the Four Senses is beautiful, and there's another one I wanted to mention, but can't remember which.
You put a lot of feeling into what you write. It's all beautiful.
Huggles.
Crimson Farewell
The rank of flesh,
A tattered mess.
A piercing cry,
Her lullaby.
A tortured scream,
Warm blood will stream.
Amongst her cries,
The woman dies.
The Plea of the Lonesome
Please please come home,Don't leave me alone.
Please please hold me,Retell the secrets you've told me.
Please whisper forever,Oh! Never say never!
Please please kiss me,I know you miss me.
Please please no more tears,Erase all my fears.
Please please no more pain,I want to be happy again.
Please don't say
If I told you I was bleeding,Would you help me break the flow?If your gentle touch was needed,Would you aid or watch me go?A solemn lonesome corpse,Washed away by the tide.No one understands,Yesterday, I died.As silver fades to slate,Azure to bleaker blue.No longer so aureate,Is morality so true?
Wow, Meghan...I like it. It's short, but there's a lot of emotion in it. And...it rhymes. Yay!
I don't know if I've ever seen a poem from Meghan I didn't like, so keep sending them Meg.
Post 55... Awesome Meghan!
Post 55 is good.
The word auriate threw me, had to look it up and found:
• elaborately or excessively ornamented; "flamboyant handwriting"; "the senator's florid speech"
• having the deep slightly brownish color of gold; "long aureate (or golden) hair"; "a gold carpet"
Your poetry is stylishly good, emotively excellent. However, the dark themes you utilize concern me. But, perhaps that's just my own biasness against dark themes. I sure hope so.
Bob
Love
Delicate, beautiful in its perfection and youth, it shines,
So fragile, so tender, so indescribably astounding,
Support it gentley, guide it to become reality.
Permanents.
Remember, outer strength is second to inner resilience,
That which goes unseen is most important.
Build, nurture, encourage.
Strive for stability, clarity.
Only then, when able to withstand all storms,
May you pluck it from its foundation and cary it away,
A new place, still strong, still beautiful.
Capable of motion, elastic, but still, so delicate.
Never neglect to maintain the inner resilience,
for without it, the outer glory will crumble.
Thank you Meghan, Beautiful as always.
The pain is searing,
tearing life away.
This tempo of lust,
drives me to insanity.
Terror-filled nights,
I wake with a strangled scream.
That tempo was there again,
beating out the rhythm of my nightmare.
Flames dance in the doorway,
even if I tried, I couldn't leave.
My efforts are fruitless,
as my eternal fear drums into me.
Laughter choruses, taunts, tempts,
just on the other side of the flames.
Which is worse?
this tempo, or that blade?
Either way, he's got me,
he's taken away my smile.
As I awaken breathless,
I know he will return tomorrow night,
and take me, with his lust,
or with his knife.
Meghan, it's awesome, so strong, so deep. thank you once mor for sharing.
Rest Now
The jangle of leather and metal buckles,
Still brings you from your deepest slumber.
The sight of my shoes,
Still gives you hope for another adventure.
The sound of my voice,
Still causes your tail to drum on the door.
The thought of you with me,
Still makes me smile.
The silk of your coat,
Still warms my heart.
I’ll always remember,
You’ll never forget.
Not one step together,
Will I ever regret.
Lay your head down,
My little girl.
Rest now sweetie,
You’re still my world.
When I walk without you,
Make no mistakes.
Though I love this new dog,
My heart still aches.
Two vines,
Twisted,
Embedded in one and other at the base.
As they grow, reaching for the sun, they disentangle,
But always, they must tuch.
Here they’re woven together,
There they stretch to make contact,
But always, no matter how they must grow,
Somehow, they always find one and other.
Meghan, they are both beautiful, but the poem for Jade makes me a little emotional, especially with shelley not well. Thank you once more for sharing.
Impossible
If I were a seamstress with thread of shining gold,
I’d make the two parts one again.
With patient fingers of angel’s grace,
I’d erase the need to play pretend.
If I were a tailor, with cloth of finest silk,
I’d adorn her in perfection,
With gentle arms of sweet embrace,
I would be the pretender’s protection.
If I were a cobbler, with hide so soft and supple,
I’d shod her in elegant sandals,
And as she left, she’d leave no trace,
Down a path of dancing candles.
If I were God, so great and strong,
with the power and the glory,
I’d remove the instance of such disgrace,
And she wouldn’t know her story.
I’d watch her run and dance and twirl,
As the memories left her sole,
I’d smile and watch her in that place,
Oh! If I were God, I’m make her whole.
The child cries and reaches, for understanding, love,
She stretches, seeking, through her memories,
They’re full of holes like rotting lace,
Her life is full of ghosts, the shadows of her enemies.
I recognize that my deepest wish,
Is anything but possible,
I find it hard to keep the pace,
Of life, it’s so impossible.
Kirby
When first we met,
not long ago,
the golden threads,
began to sew,
a bond so strong,
so sweet so pure,
through thick and thin,
it will endure.
From hills of green,
to fields of gold,
from coast to coast,
my arms enfold,
your silken coat,
your solid frame,
forever more,
cherish your name.
and when the day,
shall come along,
I'll do my best,
to be so strong.
to let you go,
to set you free,
and I'll never forget,
what you've given to me.
I love it!
Shadow’s Promise
I am the warmth beside you late at night,
I am the fire that you run from.
I am the water that brings you life,
I am the water that douces your fire.
I am the air that fills your lungs,
I am the wind that scatters the ashes.
I am the one that can show you eternity,
I am the one that can chase you to oblivion.
This choice is yours,
But I can take it from you.
This heart is yours,
But you can push it from you.
These three words can bring us joy,
These three words can send you running.
No matter how you run,
No matter if you flee.
Forever it shall linger,
The haunting memory of me.
You can come back tomorrow,
You can come back in an eternity.
Forget not my offer,
Forget not, though time will sift.
Whenever you return,
I will still offer my gift.
Selective Sight
Give me a chance to see the autumn trees,
Let me behold the iridescent sun,
Relief is brought by the balm of the breeze,
The warmth on my face, is winter undone.
Sometimes I wonder of jade and of blue,
Of starlight studding the vast midnight sky.
Sight often cloaks what is real and is true,
One thinks he sees beauty, but it is a lie.
Azure seas and skies dance with fresh-churned rays,
The brightest gold is the dance of a flame.
Wise Nature teases in such taxing ways,
The evil, the sacred, are one in the same.
I want to admire the marvelous views,
But the light or the dark, I can not choose.
Snickers
Always to exist insome form,
One day to break,
For now, only to be beautiful.
An expression of love,
Of dedication, to remember.
Longer than he will sleep at my feet,
His likeness will sit beside me.
I know all his imperfections, just as I see the flaws
In his miniature.
Both so cherished,
Both delicate,
But I know of the crack in the clay,
I know of the temper in the terrier,
Still, they remain priceless for their character.
Without individuality,
The world shall drown in monotony.
This pair keeps me one more step from continuity.
Cracks and tempers,
Are what make each day diffferent from the last.
His dainty little paw often wrests
In my undeserving hand.
The same hand that recreated him,
Head to one side, paw in the air.
I always feel the urge to reach out,
To hold that miniature of a miniature in my hand,
But, the earth that forms his likeness,
Is cold.
When he is ashes upon my mantel, when life no longer courses his veins,
I will cradle that fragile recreation in my hands.
And remember,
My Snickers can only warm my feet for a short while,
But as that small fridgid sculpture rests upon my chest,,
My heart will be forever warmed by his memory.
Ignorance and Innocence
We went there once, no twice,
No countless times.
Best friends reaching for the sky,
Sharing the home of the squirrels,
Getting a small glimpse of how the birds must feel.
From our material lives, we brought small trinkets,
We made that pine our second home,
We pierced his trunk,
With selfish hungry nails,
Which held fast the make-shift latter,
So we could climb higher, further remove his perfection.
Two little girls in his branches, took him further from nature.
But such spirited friends surely gave him more life.
We gave him a purpose, but I think he already had one,
A simple necessary destony we knew nothing about.
Were we selfish, or were we generous?
Does the small doll still hang as high as I could reach?
Can she tell her story, of how I almost plunged to the ground?
So strong was my desire to place her,
To dominate nature,
That I risked my mortal body.
Up in the highest branches,
I felt lost in the deepest of interminable blue,
My arms spread wide, my head thrown back,
As a child, I found such glee in unknown destruction.
More than ten years are spent,
Since last we were together.
He still stands, and I cannot find any scars.
I will never know,
But sometimes, the damage unseen may be the deepest.
Those roots reach pretty deep,
So maybe he paid no price for my happiness.
Should I say “I’m sorry,” or should I say,
“You’re welcome.”
Kirby
Callused pink pads,
Traced in creamy angel-soft fur.
Each toe ending in a dence dark nail,
Warn short from miles of travel.
A steady tempo,
more reliable than the ticking of the mantel clock.
Those solid paws Swiftly deliver her
And her humbled companion to their final destination.
Slick ice stares skyward,
Flashing glaring grins at those who walk,
Skiddering and slipping across its face.
Sun-sparkled blockades, barring the crosswalks,
Winter’s harvest is the traveler’s burden.
Kirby, do you understand?
Do you know the grace you bring to your partner?
The freedom your paws give,
And the love deeply shared?
A waving tail disappears around the corner,
As she turns and gentley nudges the woman’s hand.
She seems to say,
When I can no longer work,
Will you still love me so?
Farewell
Leaving you behind was like
Being run over by an iron wheel
as hot as the burn of a jalapino.
Burning and searing my face.
I touched my eyes when I shouldn’t have,
Like the child who is told to keep away from the stove.
The pain, and the cries,
Wails that hasten through the air,
Like terrified horses,
Running from the flaming timbers of a barn, into the winter night air.
Each step away from you more frigid than the last.
So cold I feel I could shatter.
Dipped in liquid nitrogen, and
Dropped.
Every bit of me visible, haphazardly smattered,
Scarlet on the blanched white floor of the laboratory.
No trace may remain of mistakes.
Nothing left but to toss the pieces,
Leave them to waste,
Like blocked memories, faulty decisions pushed aside.
363 Pages
I gave him a calendar for Christmas,
I lost him eight days later.
I didn’t know what to get him,
Those 365 sheets of paper seemed like an easy solution.
Each page still holds a simple joke,
“something to get you through each day”
Or so the box says.
They didn’t do a very good job.
He never even opened the package.
That cheap gift didn’t help him through.
It didn’t make him smile on either of those two days.
I kept that pad of paper,
Of artificial smiles,
As a reminder.
There’s always tomorrow.
We can go fishing,
I’ll read with you.
I’ll tell you about school and show you my poetry.
I only have 363 days I missed with him,
Fanning through them seven-fold,
I’d still come up a few months short,
And still, I wish I could take him.
Show him each page,
Tell him what I did,
How much I wished he was there too.
The sorrow and the joy,
I want him to read it all, feel it all.
Years ago, they carried him away,
Five white roses on his chest,
One placed by my trembling hands,
Along-side those placed by my brothers.
I’ve never read the joke on that page,
Never even looked at it.
I wish Dad could read it to me.
The Inequitable Wisdom of a Turtle
He never looks back to see yesterday,
His steady amble is his only measure,
For tomorrow draws ever closer.
Four weeks ago, I came through this way,
And still he continues with the very same leisure,
He never looks back to see yesterday.
My previous actions bring me so much dismay,
But he holds no regrets, he plods on for pleasure.
For tomorrow grows ever closer.
I wonder, how would he feel at the thought of delay?
Saddened or enraged at the loss of time’s treasure?
He never looks back to see yesterday.
If one doesn’t look back, I still must say,
That such inconvenience would cause some displeasure,
For tomorrow grows ever closer.
Of my future dance, I’m my own composer,
Though I’m not sure I have that old turtle’s leisure,
He never looks back to see yesterday,
For tomorrow grows ever closer.
The VIP Room
Though they’re above us, they sit below us,
Upon their window, we perch,
One hundred dollars to see the underside.
With a stagger, tequila pools on the floor,,
It must look interesting from down there.
Though their above us, they sit below us.
She sits with us for lack of money to spare,
She says her skirt is finer than any seat,
One hundred dollars to see the under side.
Beneath this floor of glassy class devision,
The VIPs dine in luxury,
Though their above us, they sit below us.
An intimate grasp under the table, only those two should see,
He folds his bills and glances above,
One hundred dollars to see the under side.
Such a high cost, to see a dirty shoe,
Such a low cost, when the dancers come through,
Though they’re above us, they sit below us,
One hundred dollars to see the under side.
Unwanted Offspring
Mother we call this ball of sea and grass,
The bulging hills and lapping ponds she gives,
To us to own as generations pass,
From north to south and coast to coast we live.
We burn her lands and soil her flowing streams
To take our lives further from Nature’s grasp,
And as they soar, the hawks echo her screams,
Groaning of earthquakes deep within her rasp,
Rainbows may seem to be her loving smile,
The meaning of her message should be clear,
Her happiness is going out of style,
The rainbow is her frown the rain a tear.
Volcanos fill our homes with multin fire,
We aren’t the children that she does desire.
Put Your Hood Up
Tomorrow is a loose hat in the wind,
Dashing and chasing for miles on end,
No matter how far, you will never find
You know where to go to catch it again.
One leap ahead puts you seven steps slack,
A dive to the ground leaves blood on your knees.
So easily caught now just with a snatch,
But a gust of wind takes it out of reach.
Just as fumbled hats reliably soar,
Tomorrow ticks on without you in tow.
Take not the time to nurse your displeasure,
Some aspects of life aren’t made for control.
That hat is gone, and future is unknown,
Pull up your hood and hasten back home.
Meghan, as always some very good poems here, and some very moving ones too. Thank you as always for sharing.
You tell your lover she's the only one,
But multiples of two are much too fun.
You've lost the notion of what's wrong and right,
Which lover's arms are holding you tonight?
Arithmetic can add and take away,
I've done subtraction, I'll no longer stay.
I thanked the sun for touching you,
for doing what I wanted to.
for reaching deep to warm your soul,
to have my turn would make me whole.
barefoot dancing in the sand,
the sun warmed carpet, hand in hand.
forever to feel the energy,
let me bring mine home to thee.
melding, shifting now complete,
a perfect moment on repeat.
We'll try our best to touch the ssky,
gentle caresses and no reply.
No need for reaching anymore,
for stars are dancing on our shore.
We'll count them to infinity,
They lace your skin so prittily.
some here some there upon your face,
my lips will take them, leave no trace.
delicate, dancing down your arms and waste,
with my flesh, the starlight has been replaced.
Harvest
Emerald had begun to give way,
Golden, ruby and ginger,
In one blink, they spiced the earth
With bloody ritches that faded,
Colors sifted and soon,
We crushed the auburn memories.
You reached and plucked the sweet fruit,
I could almost taste the sugar
I watched juice,
Staining your lips.
I wanted to kiss you, to taste the sweet flesh,
To get lost in you.
Our eyes met, and you looked down,
Your tongue darted out,
Stole the sugar from me. And so
I followed the arc of your arm,
Watched your muscles tense,
My eyes darted after the heart,
Still laced with decadence,
Still holding memories of flesh,
Fragments of identity.
You came in the darkness, in early morning,
and we danced in the sunrise
sleepy rains misted our ballroom,
so we turned our faces to the sky
drank in nature's sweet gift
life.
When midday came, we basked in the heat
I touched your skin, and it burned
so I moved closer.
as the sun began to leave us,
we reached for its warmth
I found the sunshine in you.
I ran eagerly,
stumbling like a young pup,
to watch the sunset,
and you weren't there yet, so I waited.
I want to freeze the evening sky,
keep it like this until you sit beside me.
I am nothing in this world,
and the sun will move against my will.
Hurry! come quickly.
the light is fading,
let it brush our skin once more,
and I will lace you in kisses,
wrap you in reality,
a simple dream will come true,
make haste, before the echo of my voice returns to me.
I lit a flame,
you let it burn out,
tonight was not my night to watch it.
I found you,
digging in every pocket,
trying to find the matches.
Did you think I wouldn't notice,
too late,
I'm standing behind you.
Tell me you're sorry,
appologize for letting that flame go,
ask for my forgiveness, and you shall have it.
If you know how to ask,
you will find me,
crying in your arms again,
I'll let you peal the hot wax from my flesh,
you can kiss away the burning pain.
You just have to ask me,
you have to let me let you,
you have to tell me it was your falt.
Meghan once more you have given us some beautiful deep and meaningful words to read, thank you as always.
Seconded what Kev said, some excellently written poetry here. Beautifully written, easy to take meaning from and great use of language. "The warmth on my face, is winter undone", for just one example. Keep it up.
Cheers,
Simon
you've gathered my sorrow,
taken two tears,
one from each eye.
helped quell my fears.
One was left by him,
Embodied my hurt,
and how I did try,
but I needed you first.
One right for tomorrow,
it slid as it must.
others passed by,
but alas, I found trust.
The pair you did trim,
and joined at the base.
not one can deny,
a heart can be traced.
And So...
I called in the waves, and I leapt to meet them, but they weren't actually there. My bloodied knees scab and crack open and bleed again as I run.
I wanted to take you fishing, but you forgot your fishing pole, and my Dad always let me use his. I don't know what they did with it when he died, but it isn't mine.
The woods are calling me, but I don't want to go alone, because I'm not sure how I would get back...but I need to go alone so I cannot get back.
I want to stand under a waterfall.
If you were here, we'd go hiking, and I'd bring my tent, and we'd laugh when it wasn't big enough for both of us.
Who left the door open? Where did everyone go?
And where's the rain coming from? I thought the sun was shining just a moment ago.
How come there isn't a word to explain that feeling when you want to pull someone to the bed beside you and be on top of them and under them and throw them across the room at the same time?
Why does "I love you" sound like a practical joke to me? Why don't I believe in it?
Where do all these tears get stored? I mean, I have so many I can't believe I had room for them.
The river sounds so beautiful, and the lake is so pretty and glassy so early in the morning.
I want my jacket to smell like a campfire and I want my hair to smell like sunshine. I want to be tan. I want to have leaves caught in my shoelaces, and I want to cook the fish I caught today for dinner. I want to bathe in the river and not care if anyone is looking. I want my dogs to be my protectors and companions, and I want someone to be there...waiting for the time when I invite them in. I don't know where he is. I don't know if I have met him, but I am sure I have. I'm just not sure he has met me yet.
When did apples become sour and oranges become sweet?
Why don't I believe you when you tell me you see a rainbow?
and where the hell is that bird that won't stop singing.
Matchsticks
Starlight is for dreamers,
dreams often shutter into nightmares.
Fists squeeze the starlight,
it cries down their wrists
dribbles on my rooftop.
Nightmares seep through the cracks.
Light is so small
like a marble down a bowling alley,
it can rest anywhere, in the slightest notch.
No one will find it.
Cannot see it's rays seeping through the dark places,
blending with the light of piece and,
blazing, ripping through that glow,
leaving rusted irrodescence behind.
That is what I was left with,
you told me it was my nightlight.
How will I ever sleep again?
As distant memories linger,
like Grandma's perfume from the folded blanket,
the one she died under
six months ago.
I think I see that glow again,
my protecter, my lover,
rust destroys, eats away,
soon I understand, the glimmer was a dream,
ebbed away into a nightmare, terror.
Tonight I put out that light,
threw away the candle, and
wet all the matches with tears.
I'll drop them from my rooftop,
they can't find the little places,
so finite, their purpose taken away.
Together, so far apart, one by one, they rest
deep in the grass, the blades taller,
more than they can ever hope to be.
Without my tears, they could destroy that green,
no function anymore,
useless and scattered, a little bit like my goals.
Forgotten soon, and yet,
someone needs to remember.
The Blood of the Roses
I tried to give you roses
you took the peddles and crushed them for me to wear
sorrow laced my motions
still I tried to lift their blood
place it on my neck for you
to kiss away.
The sun was shining,
burning my memories
the oils evaporated before
my fingertips could find my nec.
You told me it was a waste.
So I brought you more roses,
you wouldn't try again
the sun is scortching,
I'm still lying here.
No one will lift me,
I'll leave when I'm ready.
as a vapor in the sun's heat,
drifting, blocking your view,
until there is nothing left to share,
the blood of the roses will linger.
Words are swirreling down the drain like
The spinning of my childhood mobile, accept they’re not coming back.
I wanted to tell you what makes me feel safe,
Warm casarole and hot chocolate
Heating my fingers between your callused palms
And knowing that I’m not the only one to remember to put the milk away.
Our hands laced in your jacket pocket
Smiling as the cold nibbles playfully at our lungs.
Christmas lights dancing just beyond my vision, and you bringing them to life for me.
I get scared when you’re not here,
Tdrain spins faster, faster than
Gunshots take lives and the Angel Food Cake goes from
Perfect to burnt.
I make my hot chocolate alone tonight,
Too afraid to tell you that I really need you.
And it’s days like this when I understand how people do it,
Razorblades lurching down wrists, and “she wanted to die, because
She cut the right way,” yes, the right,
Not wrong, though it is all wrong, the right way to take
Away the words, the glug glug of the drain as the blood and water spins.
I’ve never been the dramatic type, so I knew this would surprise you.