Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
She created
A doorway in her mind,
she always keeps one foot in
And one foot out.

However,
Her mind is always lingering
On the other side -
She often feels the need
To breakout!

On the other side,
The trees are wise ancient
Majestic giants,
Rustic leaves
Cover the fertile ground.

The moon is always full,
It is always perfectly round.

The sun is always shining,
But sometimes she has it rain -
Just to hear
The sweet serene sound...

She loves the smell
Of the earth afterwards -
The damp rich ground.

On the other side of the doorway,
Her soul is free -
Here,
She is immune
From emotional stress,
Strain, and pain.

Inspiration is carried
Through the wind,
There is nothing to lose,
But everything to gain.

Nature,
Is always most accepting,
Embracing her essence,

Here, she is alive,
She has an illuminated spirit -
A pure white glowing presence.

She never needs to struggle
For her every breath...

Everything is truly alive -
Nothing, at all, resembles death.

Rivers, crystal-clear,
Flowing with vitality,

Flora and fauna,
Beauty in an abundance -
Thriving,
Celebrating their precious Individuality.

Magnificent mountains
Reaching into heaven,
The bluest ocean,
Wrapping itself around
A breathtaking coast,

Everything about this place
Is what she adores -
What her soul absolutely loves
The most.

On this side,
Nobody can disturb her peace,
Nobody can break her spirit,

Nobody can take her freedom,
Nobody can invade her tranquil thoughts - that's all there is to it!

Here,
Butterflies and doves
Glide through the air,
In dance -
Touching her eyes
With a heavenly love -
So pure.

She always keeps one foot in
And one foot out,
But her heart and her soul
Reside here -
Because here,
Less, is more!

By Lady R.F ©2016
In the morning I awake
With the after-taste
Of a half-remembered dream
And a barely formed face
Shadow of the past
And emotions that last

And some of these dreams
Would make a hero cry
And some of these dreams
No matter how I try
I know will stay with me
Until the day I die

                                   By Phil Roberts
Why do you take beautiful things
and turn them into instruments
of sadness?
I.
Every winter
I become an answering machine
of unread messages.

II.
Why does it take so long
for me to remember that
the other side of the bed has been colder
for years?

III.
This sadness will last forever.
everything is bathed in white
less pure than summer,
muddier, grey but piercing.
the drab and dragging cold
reaches through to touch bone
and turns everything to slush.
for once in a long while,
everyone is as muted as I.
 Nov 2016 Anthony Perry
J
9 months have passed and I still feel small
I threw away everything, photos and all
I felt empty for months, angry this fall,
but now I'd give anything to be your next call.

Your tactics were perfect, like beautiful seas
I was so eager to let you control me
Because surrendering felt like ectasy
And your grip around my neck had warming properties
It does not matter if you wake up one mile away,
or fifty hours,
or if the entire globe separates the soles of our feet.
My eyes have memorized the language of your love,
the glowing warmth of your arms that is able to be felt
through a static telephone call,
a letter sleeping patiently inside an envelope,
promises sent shooting through the indigo heavens.


I will always be with you--
the rises and runs of your heartbeat
pounding inside your head, the rush of wine-colored blood
through translucent blue veins,
I will be as close as skin meets soul,
as sweat mingles with tears.


The ridges of your hands are roadmaps I will follow
until my heels grow calloused and blistered,
and when the sky darkens, your brown eyes
will become a compass that will point
in the direction of our dreams.


We go,
but love cannot.
We change,
but love does not.
We hold,
and love holds with us.


I will love you all over again in the morning
and we will always be together--
distance breaking nothing,
our faces shining in the same light
of tomorrow’s sun.
for my sweet Anthony, because I promise that everything will be okay.
There is always plenty of money for war. Where's the money to educate America so we have the tech skills needed to participate in the job market. " To President Trump I say "Invest in America, Invest in Education"...... @Tammy M Darby 11/14/2016
I have dreams that I once was
A free majestic albino peacock,
Jewellery trapped under a rock.
I have dreams that I never was.

I have dreams  that I once was
An old tree covered in snow,
Winds that took an eastern blow.
I have dreams that I never was.

I have dreams that I once was
A poor little drowning fish,
A silver ring left to tarnish.
I have dreams that I never was.

I have dreams that I once was
A lot of things and one thing,
But I never was anything.
I have dreams that I once was.


--Watercolour
 Nov 2016 Anthony Perry
mrmonst3r
I fear not death —
Not mine.
It is a welcome
Circumstance
I can meet with
an unfamiliar smile.
As long as there is nothingness
To greet me on the other side.
But yours
I could not bear.

Let me go first.
Next page