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When I was the Ocean

Submitted by Entend2u on Fri, 2023-11-10 15:47

When I was the ocean and you were the sky
You were liquid light on my dark horizon,
A flight of birds in my cold dawn.
And in the tumult of my passion
You were the celestial orbit
Making love of this urgent tide.
I was but the tempera’d emulsion
Reflecting your million hues,
A deep cerulean tapestry
Woven from your silken rays.
When I was the ocean and you were the sky
We were spiritual lovers on cathedral waves,
Spectral lovers in water and light,
Embracing as rainbows in the crystal spray,

Grandma's Cellar

Submitted by Michael Anthony on Fri, 2023-11-10 11:40

My brother and I captured insects
to watch them squirm on the tin cellar door.
A merciless ordeal in the humid summer heat.
A cruelty of young boys I’m still trying to forgive.

Down in the cellar, were dust-covered shelves
lined with jars of fruits and vegetables of all kinds.
The dark and the dust and the musty smell
fired our imaginations. Instead, we saw shrunken heads,
creatures, goblins, and frights of all kinds
desperate to escape from their green glass prisons.

HOOAM HARVEST - Early 19th Century.

Submitted by Alex Tanner on Fri, 2023-11-10 10:42

The corn was crowned with flowers,
The supper all was spread
On tables rough that filled the barn,
All round was beer in kegs.

The harvest safely gathered,
The puncheon was all supped,
The labourers was gathered:
Carters, Shepherds, and such.

The Blacksmith and the Carpenters,
Apprentice boys as well,
All who had helped with the harvest
Were welcome, the throng to swell.

The farmers wife was busy
Helped by many hands,
To set the harvest supper:
Beef, Mutton, Plum Pudding, Ham.

ADDICT

Submitted by Ruby Lord on Fri, 2023-11-10 09:09

After mammy died, my brother wasn't my brother.
He crawled inside himself, but never found her.
The demons left him in the dark. The drugs worked.
The highs eased his mourning,
The lows crippled him,
belly on the ground, a beaten dog.

He grew secretive, withdrawn, those glassy eyes,
staring, unable to communicate, without substances.
He had to be left alone, as his shattered mind,
consumed him,
by seconds, minutes, hours.

MOODY

Submitted by Twizzle48 on Fri, 2023-11-10 06:23

MOODY

How is it, that being happy is not yoU
All of the time, you need cheering uP
Perhaps, if I were to worry a little lesS
Potentially I might even see that smilE
Yet you enjoy showing you are upseT

Challenge: love letter to the sky (Haiku)

Submitted by Clentin on Fri, 2023-11-10 05:29

Stars form our accents,
Constellations spell our names,
Love's script is divine.

Forever Forward

Submitted by Shelby Pryor on Thu, 2023-11-09 21:39

What if the pain throbbing in your chest
Is a prelude to something far greater
What each twist of the knife of failure
Becomes your passion's activator

What if the tears covering your face
Aren't intended your joy to abstain
What if the sting you feel is a spark
To ignite the fire coursing in your veins

The moment you fall a thousand times
When you're ready to give in and stop
Could be the moment you beat the odds
Could be the moment you reach the top

Failure Is Success

Submitted by Malak kalmoni Chehab on Thu, 2023-11-09 17:26

'There's no shame in falling or failing, but
The shame arises if you can't rise above it.'*1

To fail or not to fail is the question
That drives humanity to lunacy.
In our desire to succeed, we embrace the perception
Of failing as a way to demoralize our inconsistency

In achieving our set goals, in the right
Time-frame, that may set us up for forsaking
The dereliction of our purposes in light
Of our inability to surmount processing

Holiday At Grandma's House

Submitted by Candlewitch on Thu, 2023-11-09 12:18

Grandma's House

Grandma and the house, scented with
hunger-making baking smells.
This, and all her holiday fare
lovingly planned and created.
Browned skinned turkey roasting
basted with butter and natural juices.
Mingling aromas of pies, eggnog and bird
After grandma hugs, snuggling me.
we sit in the big rocking chair
together, eating warm cookies.
To my child's mind; this is heaven!

Love-Poet

Submitted by Blue-eyed Bolla on Thu, 2023-11-09 10:57

The life of a poet in love I am living,
but foes of my loving I won’t be forgiving.
It may seem I’m lost in my rhyme and verse making,
with heart now unbroken and no longer aching.
Yet pen pours on paper my pure, pent-up passion,
and fighting my foes hasn’t gone out of fashion!

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