Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Do city kids look with familiarity at the umber night sky
Or do they feel the same cruel sting of longing as I
Is this distain my pre-ordained destiny, something primeval and true
Or am I the only one made restless by the poisoning of the blue
Short and sweet I guess
Lacey Clark Sep 2023
On my journey to my grandmother’s, the landscape holds my attention with subtleties.
Muted hues of soft lavender, pale brown, and ashy green painted outside the dashboard. Everything peeking out from a gentle coat of dust.
Yellow weeds and thistles dot the golden hills.

This corner of the country feels like a cherished family heirloom. The color palette resonates with my only sense of familiarity. Maybe it is my fixation on the colors themselves that buffer any sense of grief I carry towards instability.  None of us in my family have claimed permanency in structure. Yet, my grandmother’s home is a sanctuary.
this house has recently been demolished
Amin Dec 2022
As the sun sets in the west
And the sky turns a fiery red
The city of Washington comes alive
With a beauty that cannot be said

The monuments and buildings stand tall
Against the colorful sky
Their majesty and grace on display
For all to see, some with a watery eye

The Potomac flows slowly by
Reflecting the glow of the sun
And the people of the city
Are caught up in the beauty, one by one

It's a sight to behold
This beautiful sunset in DC
A moment to be cherished
And never forgotten, forever and one.
girl diffused Oct 2021
Hello old friend,
With your tall sweeping evergreens
Towering almost endlessly
Into a blue clear sky
The endless swell of traffic
Cars peeling down the street
The smell of roasted coffee beans
From some hole-in-the-wall cafe
The obvious transplant donning an umbrella in the Autumnal warm rain
The light sprinkling of water enough
To nurture the verdant green

Hello old friend,
Mt. Rainier, she greets me,
Looming ever majestically
Over expanses of tree and road
Her white peaks cresting over
Fields of blossoming flowers
The tulip fields scattered across the sloping
Skagit Valley, her vineyards spanning for miles and miles

Hello old friend,
Seattle's grungy nature
Masked by her streets of trendy
Cafes and farm-to-table restaurants
Her mom and pop cafes
Her canvas gray dress marred by graffiti
And street tags
The busker on the street corner panhandling for change
The homeless sheltering under a cardboard blanket outside of a Starbuck's
The transplant with the umbrella stopping down to drop change in their jar
The crumpled dollar
The locals who pointedly ignore him on their way to work, to school, back home, to somewhere...anywhere...
The constant dazed bustle
The stench and pungent odor of ****
Curling around every seedy corner and
Affluent street crossing

Hello old friend,
It's been a while
Let me nestle into your newness
A new coast greets me across the horizon
Replaced by homespun everything
Pastoral fields where the bovine and equine reside

Hello old friend,
I suppose you're home now
I suppose you're home...
A/N: I moved to Washington State. I secured an apartment and new employment is in the hangar. A lot of...new everything. I shoddily put this together and I feel as if it regrettably shows.

Well, I hope you find some solace in the awkward virginal writing. Moving strips away everything that's routine and gives you a blank slab of concrete with which to make your mark. I suppose then...the writing was unintentionally intentional in its awkwardness.
Carlo C Gomez Aug 2021
~
Mother of many waters
the manner with which she ascends
is sympathetically informed
we are a running spring
from her womb
flowing along the magical line
of peaks and summits
to cascading fiery birthright

and the rain fell
and the snow settled
and the ice theologized
to remind us
the outside world still worships
her eruptive embers

~
Elizabeth Zenk Apr 2021
sensation

may it come in rains

periodically, forcefully

persistent in its integrity

distant for some maybe

but all so interpersonal for me

tapping on my window

showering me

seeping through the cracks

unreined
Warrior Poet Feb 2021
A belly full of tasteful food,
With a tankard filled with good drink,
As well as the smell of sweet tobacco
Is calming to the mind of any man;

A fire with a kind flame,
A book filled with adventure,
As friends tell cheerful tales
Can fill his life with enjoyment;

The cool wind upon his back,
The fresh air entering the lungs,
As the rain falls from up high
Offers a relaxed feeling for most;

The sound of calm streams
As well as the mighty rivers,
And the sight of the forests
Is enough to bring a man's soul peace;

The green leaves that are on the trees
That grow to tremendous heights,
With roots deep within the skin of earth
Brings much amazement and wonder;

When the sun has fully sunk
A sky full of stars is revealed
With a moon that shines bright
Brings tears to the eyes;

Home is where the heart is
And mine is within the mountains,
For having experienced their beauty
I pity any man who's never seen them.
Evan Stephens Jan 2021
An incomplete face
in its glass slab,
pulls a distance over me.
Mournful, I watch the neighbors
streaming down the toothy walk
in black and brown coats,
their laundry massed  
on shoulder tilt,
or in little onion cart.
They are all right here,
in this winter identity.
Washington accepts them.
If they should crane
& launch a coup d'œil
into this hunched pane
they'll know I am not of them;  
what body I have
stalls on this laminate -
the black fume
behind fastened eye
has already bolted
to keels of poetry
across furrowed Atlantic:
completing a glass face.
Carlo C Gomez Sep 2020
I dreamt of lighter fluid
As desert rain

Matchsticks
Stricken against the wind

Building into a phosphorus
Shower

A smiling inferno
In the fast lane

Hot cinder rims
Giving joyride the third degree

With fiscal intentions
Of burning this

Highway
Right off the map
This mountain pass is an important link from Los Angeles to Las Vegas.
Next page