Tag: poetry

Apocalypse

The news screams of war.

Nuclear sirens and wildfires,
Flooded homes
Extremists taking their fight
To the streets.

I try to memorize the way you look at me
The way my name sounds on your lips
How warm you are, how safe.

Politicians in hot water
Displaced children
Without a home nation
On a boiling planet.

I might be holding you in the eye of the hurricane
There might be disaster at our door.
But I will remember this moment.

For when the world ends.

via Daily Prompt: Memorize

Shit: An ode to Anxiety

There are so many people
Everything feels out of time
It messes with my thoughts
And messes up my rhyming…

Shit. That’s not quite right
I know I can do better
Words scramble in my brain
I can’t settle on a…

Shit. What that word?
For one alphabetical member
I’d communicate my meaning
If only I could… not forget?

Shit. They’ve all leaked
From my brain into my chest
There’s no space for air
I need a place to… sit?

Shit. That’s not it.
Is this some kind of test?
The walk home, alone
Gives my brain a rest.

In the cold air of December
I start to feel much better
Do you think they will remember,
When I misplaced a letter?

When I lost my rhyme?
Do you think they will forget it?
Or will they understand
That I just felt too… well,… shit?

 

via Daily Prompt: Rhyme

Magnetic Love

The lovers stilled to watch their hearts dance.

Between them was more than chemistry, more than sparks. It was a charge that buzzed through the air, crackling over the goosebumps of the crowd.

They were electric. Magnetic.

In the right mood- pulled together and impossible to unstick. Circling one another, always touching and never looking away.

In the wrong mood- violently repelled and relentlessly repulsed. But even then every action was reactionary, unable to do anything that wasn’t tied to the other.

Two halves of one force of nature.

via Daily Prompt: Magnetic

White Rose

A single white rose grew in a field of daisies.

She knew she was not like the others.

She grew taller than they did

And lacked their happy yellow centre

Her petals were too big.

 

When children came to make flower crowns

From daisies that were so easily chained

They looked but did not pick her,

For they knew she was substandard

Her stem was too thick.

 

A boy ran to catch up with his sister

Dropping a daisy chain near the rose

She watched them wither and realised

Picked daisies never came back 

And so she grew thorns.

via Daily Prompt: Substandard

Silence

They say that silence speaks volumes

Because it fills up a room,

Fills up your lungs

Drowns you

Suffocating.

 

They say that silence speaks volumes

Because the loudest conversations

Are what you don’t say

Can’t say

Deafening.

 

They should speak of silence and vacuums

An empty space, an absence of matter

Filled with things

You don’t mean

Nothing.

 

They should speak of silence and vacuums

Enabling oppressors to seem louder

Because you were absent

Even when

It mattered.

 

via Daily Prompt: Volume

Recipe for Your Soul

Ingredients:

  1. 2 cups of self-raising determination.
  2. 2 cups of creativity
  3. Self confidence, beaten
  4. 200ml of love
  5. 1/2 a cup of insecurity (it will feel like more once baked, but that’s all I promise)
  6. A pinch of courage.

Method:

  1. Mix together all of the dry ingredients thoroughly in a large mixing bowl. Pour in the rest and beat yourself up.
  2. Put in the oven and turn up the heat. You might think you can’t take the pressure, but you can.
  3. Leave to cool when ready. You will become strong, but still soft.
  4. Decorate with icing if you like, but you don’t need it.

Serving suggestion: Give a generous portion to those who love you. Give none to those who do not deserve it.

via Daily Prompt: Portion

Stardust

I remember we are stardust

And when I miss him I look up.

I trace his outline in the cosmos.

I wave. He winks.

 

I remember that atoms are reused.

And I breathe deep recycled air

Passed from his lungs to mine

Through time.

 

I remember that time is relative

And although our speeds are different

Our destination is the same.

I will join him.

 

In the Night.

 

via Daily Prompt: Trace