I've been escaping from the dark,
In the dark the fire of your love would spark.
I was in the darkest color of the night,
Till you came, and made my path, bright.
I've been drowning in the rainiest eyes,
Till you came and brought me sunshine.
It doesn't matter where you go,
You're always gonna be mine.
I've been falling in your love,
Catch me, before I fall apart.
'Cause things in this world fall,
But nothing can break, like a heart.
Come and once again,
Fill my heart with light.
Revive my dead soul,
With love and delight...
I find no need to search for poetry
It greets me in the shadows of sunrise
Brushes my cheeks with a cooling breeze
Teases me with the hint of laughter
Poetry whispers to me of now
Each breath a distant tower chime
Each laugh a fading steeple bell
A child’s laugh a moments mantra
It also shouts, frustrations folly
Honking at a malfunctioning red light
Cautiously celebrating the green
Defiant of the WALK/DON’T WALK challenge
Poetry befuddles me with its question
“Is life poetry or is poetry life?”
I long to escape
this chaotic busy world
to curl up on a beach chair
somewhere ..
where my thoughts can leave my mind
and be placed on paper
where I can think
without headache
and write with joy
You ! a shadowy Light
sword and feather
my rain and bone dry drought
a He-She from unknown constellation
bear doe oval mirror
beret blanket blue bucket with bits of luck
pluck suck reflecting muck, I duck your buck
an entrance as you exit ~
appearance of fish flashes or fudge flushes
running away acknowledging Self
you tear
touch
gobble go glue
an upside down reality flipping illusionist
magnetic in dark corner with no entrance or exit
my hair blows in blustery wind for you to catch
for my pen to write your
f r e q u e n c y ~
Pumpkins are made
For pies
And pies are made
For jack-o-lanterns
To
Please little girls
Who ride swings high over the city on
Cold
Mornings when others
Have found the schoolhouse
Under the ghetto waiting to transform the little leftovers
Into Wallstreetbogeymen scaring the country into
Unwanted
Growth claiming ‘More Pumpkins Are Better.’
The swing's chains are cold in late October
The seat can be wet
She
In her own glory does
Not
Notice the silence. Dreaming of
Dancing at the Met exposing truth to the music of Mendelssohn.
We linger
On the damp cool October morn
She peruses the skyline looking for the
Spot she might run to
As the swing finds a higher plane.
Escaping Trump
They tell me the apartment I live in is posh
has three toilets and double locking doors
Each apartment has a garage in the basement
a quite murky place with rust-splattered walls
I'm sure Salazar used the place and
His secret police, one can assume, the rust is
human suffering.
Lately, many Americans have moved it to
the expensive flats on the top floors.
They appear as migrants fleeing from tyranny
reluctant to open doors to the food delivery
If he looks, sort of Mediterranean human
As I said to no one in particular, I have never
seen so many Quiet Americans
YEARS
into months
MONTHS
into weeks
WEEKS
into days
DAYS
into hours
HOURS
into minutes
MINUTES
into seconds
SECONDS
into moments
MOMENTS
— sublime
(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)
Being in a rut is driving me nuts.
I feel trapped in this doldrums.
In my mind, I am screaming …
Please, somebody! Get me out!
Writing is hard, nothing comes to mind.
Going out is tough, even to the market.
All I do is read, transporting me to Boston,
and Vermont, the settings of the stories.
Need to write, but my muse is not around.
Need to move, but cannot find my groove.
Breathe! Need to do something, do something …
Ahhh, put make up on, a leather mini skirt to
show sexy legs, a halter hot pink top and now
I feel hot, hot, hot … ole, ole … bye, doldrums!
Vitamins, chained to shallow waters. Buried in a cave. Below the world. I stand ready. Waiting for more. Seeds of sorrow planted deep.
Mercy or remorse. Shadows aside I sense you near me.
Nightly rain sparks my soul. Sheer pain take over the globe.
Holding fast to what brings comfort. Joy and Bliss belong to us all.
Ascend the sky and mount her clouds.
Journey toward the visions end.
Cosmic peace and faith to follow the wind. Wisdom in bundles.
Hope restored insight to seek the waves.
Questions tempt us to answer our calling.
Shape the stone and crave it into life.
Knocking the wall down.
Doom quakes the foundation of the earth.
He drew a deer that fled toward our home.
Still I stand in delight craving my own stillness.
Meet the owl as it screeches like a bell.
on my desk
lays a plan grand
to escape from my town
and live in the valley
waking up to the sound of birds chirping
ending my day with a walk in the evening
at night, sipping tea by the fire
to falling asleep in the arms of my lover
i’ll watch, “trees shedding a part of them in fall”
i’ll watch, fog cover my ground”
i’ll watch, “rain pouring down”
i’ll watch, “green take over again”
and
i’ll watch my inner child heal
words from them won’t hurt anymore
looks from them won’t scare anymore
scars from them will stitch up this time
and they won’t be there anymore
Escaping Death
(written in a mental hospital)
I escaped from Death today,
And I don't know what to think.
Because when Death comes round and round,
you start to feel his scent and stink.
There are others counting on me now.
I can't let them down, this I know.
So close to Death and yet, so certain-
now I'm back to life, if just a little while
to finally pull back the curtain.
Still others only see- the ghost
that walks these halls forbidden.
I don't know how to talk to them,
the horseless carriage is hidden.
My pen feels broken,
still it flies against the page once more.
Swirling new tales in ink and bone.
Yet my ghost, she still sings for home.
Morality and death
hang over me.
Still, I'm used to these things.
I try to speed up the hour I'm closest to hell.
But as I creep ever slow,
the witch rings her last bell.
You can only listen to a cd once,
then the magic is gone.
But it still lingers in your ears,
in the mind and in heaven
their voices still ring on.
We sit in darkness
hours before sunrise
unable to sleep,
listening
to the faint sounds off in the distance
windows open
letting in the cool of autumn,
breathing
waiting on change
hoping for enlightenment
progress, hope, fulfilled promises,
heartbeats
echoing the steady pump
wishing for more
aching at it's delay,
knowing
the sun will rise
once again.
Nothing to say
but that’s ok
Watching too much
political yuk…
Time to step outdoors
get in tune with nature
Take in a session
of my state legislature
It is not hard to slip away
From generalizations
They put on you in case you stay
Within their observations
They are the ones who hold the truth
Which we supposedly deserve
In truth they tell I see no use
Cause I’m behind the curve
Dissenters, silencers like me
Are many, more than they
Would ever count, just to see
How falsly we obey
We’re hypocritical and cold
Ambassadors of fun
We never think what we are told
We’re always on the run
Escaping is a job I do
For each and every day
And I can swear you do it too
Although you wouldn’t say.
Students escaping classes was always a problem. Yesterday, the headmaster caught Herpes on the corridor.
*From Mr. Bean*
September 17, 2023
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.