Poetic License is posted on the first Monday of every month. It consists of eight carefully selected for your reading pleasure from the thousands posted across the Internet daily. I only want the best for those who make it through the sea of blog posts to my blog. I hope you truly enjoy this month’s selection. If there is a particular poem that you find moving, please visit the link of the poet and let him or her know.
By the way, Happy Birthday America. You are 235 years young.
im doing it again
turning my back
this time not coming back.
its different now
its not black and its not white
is it gray yet not quite dead?
twisting, twisting, twisted
strands of memories
dipped in pools of red
like pasta drowned in sauce
like promises left out in the cold.
Fell In Love
by Brown Sweaters
Fell in love with the dust on my table,
The stain on my coffee cup,
The sound of cars driving by.
Fell in love with the glass in my window,
The fit of my slipper,
The color I cannot describe.
Gathered them all,
Made them mine,
Promised to honor and obey.
Went on vacation,
Dined under stars,
And loved them all the more.
Thought of him
When I saw the sea
Whilst the waves licked my legs
The only thing I could think
Was that there was an ocean
That one ocean
Keeping us apart.
Too little to hold us apart
Too much to let us be together
Suddenly a stubborn thought
Cried on my mind
A thought that wouldn’t leave me alone
What does he really feel?
Would he do what should be done?
Will he ever say that little but essential word?
With a hard splash
A wave washed everything away
For a moment
And the unseen tears
Mixed into the salty water
Were carried away
To the bottom
Where all secrets are kept.
Resilience ~ Hope
by Kim Koning
Hope is a green blade of grass in a hot desert
Resilience is a daisy blooming in the tread of Fate’s footpath
Faith is absorbing every bit of moisture
Life is to keep growing
But Love is the unseen root…
by Michelle Guillemaud
It starts with a kiss,
How did it end up like this?
How could it go so far?
All you left was a scar.
A hole so deep,
It burns a hole in my sleep.
It starts with a kiss;
Then you pushed for more,
So I gave you more.
And when I gave you more,
You pushed for more.
More, and more,
Until I woke up naked on the floor,
Ashamed, a whore.
I asked for love,
You asked for more.
More was never enough.
You broke me, you bruised me;
I’m beaten, abuse me.
It starts with a kiss,
All you left was a scar.
by Hannah T. Vogel
It is not often one wakes up willingly.
Snooze buttons, five more minutes to be had,
Dreams not ready for an end.
One does not often wake content.
But, this Sunday morning the springtime sun shows fresh through parted blinds,
Outside it is warm, a hint of a cool breeze,
An azure sky is fretted with clouds and
The many, myriad people with their many, myriad faces and
Intentions and dreams and goals are walking, walking, walking
In many, myriad directions.
They clutch warm coffee, bottles of water, cell phones and each others’ hands, all moving.
I too am moving, past them and toward the promise of a meal.
I sit and enjoy my breakfast, some new found company and a bagel.
Life is ever beautiful,
Evidenced in those many, myriad people and their coffee cups and unique intentions.
Life is beautiful and for this morning at least,
I am content.
The World To Me
by Scotia Nightpoetry
I like to look in others’ eyes
to see what I can see
perhaps I view reflections
of what they see in me
We romanticise our love of eyes
call them portals to the soul
imagining that we can tell
what makes each person whole
When I look into my own eyes
a young man’s staring back
full of optimism and innocence
the things that I now lack
And when I stare just long enough
the image disappears
I see me as I am today
complete with all my years
The Room of Iridescent Colors
by Ozymandyas Lucas
I sit in a white room upon a white stool
The glass shards around me a shimmering pool
Of light and shade and rainbows askew
The shards suddenly burst upward, creating a new
Skyline of window reaching across the wall
And pictures emerge from which I can see all
And dancers of shadow of my past and present
Shoot across this iridescent crescent
The future to my right a color I’ve not seen
With words I’ve not spoken nor know what they mean
Then a flash of bright light and the glass becomes dust
And filters the white to black forcing my eyes to adjust
I find myself standing walking into the black
Knowing my hands will make up where eyes lack
When suddenly I feel a small hand
A child takes my fingers to draw lines in the sand
I open my eyes to the dust on the floor
She’s christening symbols for me to explore
Her pale skin and blonde hair speak
though she’s said not a word or squeak
Then she turns to me her eyes are my own
I’m looking at my daughter that I’ve not yet known
A future in flesh and my head starts to spin
As flashes of color surge forth off of her skin
I hug my daughter and tell her I love her
She looks and her eyes say to say hi to her mother
She smiles one last time her mouth moves divine
“Bye for now daddy, see you when our paths align”
She closes her eyes and poof! She has gone
A million shades of energy flow from her aeon
And suddenly I’m back in a room with no door
With millions of glass shards scattered on the floor
All Rights Reserved © by their respective authors. Tom Baker and his Morning Erection blog make no claims to any poetry other than his own.
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