Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nomad ,
a wanderer ,
never remaining static .

One at home
with their environment .

At peace with their creator .
Probably made
from shooting stars .
The glowing moon peeps
Through the floating hazy clouds
It's a quiet night.
 May 2016 Vernon Waring
A
What does it mean to lose?

What does it mean to be stripped down to your core and stand, yielding, for the entire world to judge?

I sit alone, among snowy abundance and beauty so severe, that the very thought of countering it is laughable. The sky is poised with such excellence, whilst all around me, the birds display their intentions through a chorus of chirps and chatters, and yet, somehow – all is still. I ponder the idea of loss.

And wonder if, in this noble cycle, anything is really lost at all...
 May 2016 Vernon Waring
Stephan
-
*Lying alone on a mattress of caverns
Pillow sham dreams only cool on one side
Twin fitted sheets in a queen-less adventure
Beneath a blanket of tears drops I hide

Headboard illusions cast vacancy shadows
Along the place where the bed is still made
Unruffled covers are lost in translation
LED numbers past midnight displayed

Caught in the silence so loud it is deafening
Even the moon cranks its volume too high
Shouted my prayer though there won’t be an answer
Folding away endless questions of why

Soon every star in the sky will be leaving
Shimmers will fade without even a care
Space quickly made for a hopeless sun rising
Another morning I won’t find you there
the sun is always shining
i create the rain
drowning in dark water
deluging thunderstorms

i obstruct the view
twisting tourniquet
shutting off the glow
fatality is sure

take flight in hurricanes
live in the twister’s path
cyclone is my choice
whirling to my death

the sun is always shining
afraid it’s far too bright
for me to grasp my power
and know that i am light


©2016janetaylor
 May 2016 Vernon Waring
katie
I wish my
lips could
be sewn
shut with
a blood red
needle &
thread,
a visible
display
of how I
feel on my
worst of days
when I
want to
lock myself
away,
when words
are strangers
exchanging
kisses across
lips & hearts
are graveyards
burying
broken
promises.
 May 2016 Vernon Waring
Bec
I get it, okay?
Everyone that knows you
thinks you're amazing.
Don't get me wrong,
you are.
But I will never know
what it's like to be
in your shoes.
Girls want you.
Guys want you.
You've been with more people
than I have friends.
I thought I had a chance
with him,
but then there you were,
getting him to tell you
that he thought you were
the most attractive person.
You come home from the mall
with bags of the hottest new fashions
yet complain when one store
doesn't have your size.
I leave empty handed,
"hot" does not coincide
with the size I wear.
The dressing room mirror
despises me.
All your other friends are
beautiful, flawless.
I am just a piece trying
to fit into the wrong puzzle.
I love you to death,
I always will.
But I really think that
I hate you.
As I rock him,
     His eyes become dimmer and dimmer
       His breathing is quieter and quieter
      His eyelids get heavier and heavier
   Until they flutter close...
He is asleep.
Next page