Word Of The Day Poems By You!

writing

 

Dry Ink

by Samantha O. from Miller Place, NYThe sun is setting.
The sailboats are in clusters far out past the buoys.
The beach is a picture already painted.
A photograph already developed.
And though I can feel the sand underneath my feet and the salt on my lips,
It has already been. Wind has already brushed through my hair,
The end of the shore has already come and gone.
My riled eyes now lost in the division.
Between where high tides began and the setting sun disappeared at the world’s end.
The boats already docked and the sailors already asleep.
And the red, red sunrise already burst into the darkness. I followed it to the beginning of all things.
And there is where I found you, already in love.

Untitled

by Vani B. from SingaporeMorning peak Rail
Break down and late

ATM turns bare
When I wait there

I look for Taxi
None do I see

Sulky security
Cue for my identity

In the crowded eatery
My order is awry

Purveyor in store
No reply and ignore

The guy behind
Jumps the line

Teen at home smug
With Ear phone plugged

Occasional rile
I strain a smile
Refrain myself being hostile

Untitled

by Miranda B. from Butler, PAA green glass dish
a butterscotch wish
on the edge of the mahogany buffet.
On a doily, white and clean
the lid was all that was seen
as I reached up my 5 year old hand.
My fingers scraped the rim
Cellophane twists poured in by him
Sweetest taste
of my grandfather- granddaughter dyad.

Two by Two

by Linda B. from Colonial Heights, VAIf Noah had known,
perhaps,
that most famous proponent
of the dyad component
would have saved
future generations
untold frustration
had he brought the unicorns
and smashed the mosquitoes!

Untitled

by Myla T. from British Colombia, CanadaA beautiful crazy mess
A long way from ideal
Loving, passionate, complex
Confusing flawed and real
Not the picture perfect dyad
We succeed, we also fail
Emotions awry, happy, sad
I call it an authentic fairytale

Bedroom floors not laced with gold
But incandescent is the heart’s glow
Worth more than that of precious stones
A rare treasure only few know
We don’t live in glamorous conditions
But the allure of this connection knows no limits
We are human and our mistakes make magic
Every time we work through conflict

We do not exist in eternal utopia
Rather we strive for continuous growth
Because through up and down motions of love
We build strength that we need most
A bond formed whole and clean
Comprised of damaged pieces of clutter
You and I take on the world as a team
Standing tall as a unified structure

Untitled

by Dave S. from Johnson City, TNCold fingers.
Morning lingers.
Keyboard bemoaning
It’s daily stoning.
It says to me,
Pretentiously,
To my dismay,
Not so glib today?

Shrug it off.
A sudden cough.
Feeling south,
Cover my mouth.
A word lands
In my hands.

Heat spilt,
I grab the hilt.
Fingers violent.
Keyboard silent.
Nothing to say.
Not today.
No more talk.
From Writer’s Block.

Untitled

by Deb E. from Prenton, UKI’m glib, suggestive and wild,
A likeable, naughty young child.
I know right from wrong,
Can tell short from long,
So why am I quite so reviled?

Untitled

by Mandy C. from Newton, NJYour words,
Ever glib, ever soothing,
Slide down my heartstrings and into my soul.
And I,
Ever the fool, let the song play.

 

Omphaloskepsis

by Susan W. from Orlando, FLHalfway down my body there is a tiny button.

Early on the chord was cut, the common way, most wanton.

Life line gone and left alone, a being just left stranded.

How to sustain- when on this hole, a lot of lint has landed?

Meaning’s Meaning and Other Looped Thoughts

by Joseph D. from Chicago, ILWind and rain blast
I don’t hear them.

Thunder and lightning
I am still.

Still I sit, still I brood,
Cross-legged, cross-brained, cross and sore,
I sit on this straw mat and hum some mantra.
Omphaloskepsis overcomes me, and I dig out a piece of lint.

No one is watching me meditate
I hope.

Untitled

by Joe M. from Chisago City, MNDon’t think much of omphaloskepsis,

Can’t think of anything nice to say

Of staring at your belly button All the livelong day.

While you’re staring at your navel

Trying for introspection,

There’s a great big beautiful world

Waiting for your inspection.

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