Thank you for visiting. If you want to read some lesser known, voiceless, but truly wonderful poetry or prose or maybe an occasional story...keep stopping by.
Kevin’s Note: Time is a funny thing…counting time is altogether a different story. Absolutely a wonderful piece.
I have been wrapped up like a present
under the Christmas tree from the year you left.
I have be waiting for you to return-
to open the one thing you left
behind.
365 days have passed
and I am still listening for your footsteps.
Maybe time
was never
on our side.
held between glass walls
Keri’s note: Perfect.
I stand still on a chair
With my arms outstretched while
Balancing on one leg,
And I wonder if this is
How baby birds feel
Right before they leap and
Take flight—
I’ve learned a couple of things
Mapping out this tired landscape:
One- a misunderstanding is the new black,
Two- we fall hardest on our hearts, and
Three- we learn to care for others within boundaries
(Because ‘safety first’ is everyone’s favourite motto)—
Sometimes at the grocery store I see
The lady with rings on
Each one of her skeleton fingers
And although her body has crumpled into folds
She’s taught me that the letters left
On your soul are more visible than
The ones dangling from your mouthA strange sadness takes over
When she extends her
Pale hand to buy cheap
Cake mix for her daughter’s
Seventeenth birthdayI like to believe that she is like me:
A little lazy and a little happy
But never fully anything—
Standing here,
I think about the combined breaths of
Every passionate being in this world
And if it’s true that each day
Someone stops livingEach day,
I hope that person
Is never you
Sunny’s Note: I love this piece. We’ve all had one of these moments and this just resonated with me. Lovely poem.
I didn’t know How wild things Could still get
Unsure Of the Possible excitement
Having too many Drinks Getting lost In the soundtrack On my way To the crowded bars Like a child at 21
Not knowing The night could Ever turn pretty
But knowing it happened Running into you
Sunny’s Note: This is really beautiful. Such a great write and a very creative way to present it. I mean, we have all seen the printed page thing and all but this seems so personal and I love that. This is so beautifully written. Lovely.
Daisies
Sunny’s Note: I can’t even tell you. I just love this. I LOVE this. It is very beautiful and I just fucking love this.
Sunny’s Note: This was a really great read. We’ve all been there and I think you personified it nicely. Great piece.
skipping stones at flaws in their chords of faith,
planting insecurities beneath their pillow to whisper
more hate in their ears while they’re dreaming
nightmares of lost hope and innocence-
it’s all just this real big mad that floats under
the surface of people’s hearts, and in the back of
people’s minds, and we’re all sort of
bitter, i think. or at least, i am. and secretly, or not so
secretly, i wonder how i’m going to figure out this
whole big world, when i’m really nothing to it
to begin with.
Sunny’s Note: I love the structure of this poem. I would do without the capitalization of each sentence - it throws me off a bit but overall this is really good lyrical piece. I love the shifts in imagery, it really works here. Good job.
A tree struck by lightning
Simply sheared at an angle
Trunk taken by scavengers
Stump left for dead.Given some time, some wind, some rain
Perhaps something tiny and green may awaken
Of the same genesis but not the same exodus
Something resilient, something strongThe forest is changing
Embers cooling, dust settling
Considerably more barren
Fuel all consumedMay we all find a greening
To rise from this fire
Seeking some healing
From shards of ill feeling
Seeds drifting, exchanging
New forests to grow.
I’ve begun to think
in broken lines
Sunny’s Note: There are so many things I love about this. What a creative way to present your poetry and it is a really great drawing, too. You don’t know how difficult it is to draw a hand without it looking like a catcher’s mitt. This is so wonderful, I love the two little lines - wonderful piece indeed.
Sunny’s Note: This is such a beautiful piece. The first two lines are just wonderful and the rest was just a joy to take in. Lovely read indeed.
She holds fistfuls of violets in her hands clutching onto them like memories. The sky is an orange bursting the scent of citrus as the sun slowly melts into the horizon. Her heart is heavy and sinking with pebbles of pain that rattle through her arteries. The wind is swift and lilting picking through the trees and rustling the leaves. She is a blossom in the breeze. She is fleeting and a mystery. Her smile shifts shape and she tries to love all that she hates.
Kevin’s Note: I loved the lines “that melted my
bulletproof heart (enclosed in a brick palace
with guards who held swords, guns,
anything that would inflict some sort of damage)
into a pool of sin” Now THAT is covering your bases. We’ve all been here. Loved!!!
he greeted me
with a smile
that melted my
bulletproof heart (enclosed in a brick palace
with guards who held swords, guns,
anything that would inflict some sort of damage)
into a pool of sin
laced with kerosene & pulled dreams from
the bottom of a dank wishing well
dreams of a happy place
a…
Kevin’s Note: Very well written…this uses great imagery and I love the idea of this.
every night the lies come
into your fingers—
as they come alive
your mind shuts off, sometimes
letting itself breathe
through life’s straw. to drownis a beautiful thing. to drown
and sink as the depression comes
is a smooth-transition. “breathe
man!” the blood stains your fingers—
He’s always said he loves her lips. The naughty things he imagines her doing with them would make her blush, if she knew. He watches as little curls slide up their sides, curving them ever so slightly, shaping themselves around the words she’s speaking. Her tongue appears to moisten the full lower…
Roggy’s note: this. By all means, THIS! An excellent captivating description.
Sunny’s Note: This is so different and wonderful. I enjoyed this poem very much so. It is almost conversational and I love that about this. It is quite interesting in that regard. Good job.
Two people only love with their hands and their lips and their words
Two bodies only crack when the hands are touched
You’ll tell your veins to kick at your stomach
Your bones to watch, step forth once in disposition,
swallow its potion- do nothing but watch
Tell Sunday boys and Sunday girls,
that Sundays best was cancer fed, cloud film, flimsy
unscrew the VHS
was a two by four kidnapped and gone, used to be gone
The state lines said you were never coming back- idle.
They’d eat it anyway
I’m sorry I told you that
That year I am sorry for thinking of drowning myself in the
bathtub because the lakes here are far too murky,
and I wanted to be found
Loved Once
Sunny’s Note: I love finding little gems such as this. I adore everything about it. The cadence in this is perfect, read it aloud and it will astonish you even more. Great job.
If I told you
in riddles
how I’ve loved
before
then I’ve lied
twice:
Now
and twice more.
Because we’ve met
a hundred times
and vaguely through
glass doors.
Yes I’ve loved once,
but you
a hundred times
more.
“You’re A Strange Bird”
Sunny’s Note: God, i love this. Just everything about it. I can’t even offer you a critique because all I will keep saying is how much I love it so. Such a beautiful poem.
I wait for the calm;
I wait for the breath;
I wait for the noises of your mouthlike bells
ringing, sighing, chuckling,
calling me away somewhere—but when it’s all over,
you run back off to wherever you belong:
moving, moving, moving
and I am stuck still
with my feet on the edge of the bath
and a frown caught in the back of my throat.