building

Learn more about other poetry terms

Frivolous, and yet I'm strategic when I play chess,Trying to be honest and I'd be lying if I saidI'm oblivious and wasn't thinking of what happens next,I'm always looking a few moves ahead...
In The Middle August 31, 2018 ~ Friday Every person, tall or leaning Building what they thought was meaning
things fall apart but that is only the start  of a journey that may last days  or years  full of things, only you can hear  you travel down a path made of gravel encrusting you with scars 
“Psst! Psst! Have you heard? He has just bought a new car. And his wife, she is so beautiful! How did he manage that? He must have visited the witchdoctor.”
Eyes red, dried tears on her cheeks; On the roof she sits with pen and paper Describing the beauty of the street lights The sound of the rustling trees
Looking at the ground,
Pick up One piece, then two— More if you so desire. Make them one interlocking whole. Better.   This test Will not be solved By gluing several bricks.
When I entered middle school it wasn't quite as I had planned
Past     closed up pizza jointsPast laundromats, through the dying noisethe nights tick on like clockworkwatch the calendar as my steps unwind
They Stand Tall, Higher Than The Sky, I Know They Could Kill Me, But I Continue To Fight.
The beauty of lifeEven through this strifeIs people’s abilitytheir uncanny adaptabilityTo hold in their palmthat one simple objectobject of calmThe ability to affect
I hope I make it to heavenmany Christians say this butdon't do the will of God
Life is a risk, once you're happy you feel like nothing can go wrong,
she looks at her reflection in the mirrorand barely recognizes her own face
Walking slowly my head faced down but it is too dark  to see the ground   Into the unknown I keep walking Still into my skin it pierces the cold deathly chill  
Dreams are an escape from reality, A reality that we wish not to see, For with open eyes things become very clear, We see the world for what it truly is, So take a step back and breath in the atmosphere,
Imprisoned Life Within a cage the heart does cry, No hope to stand against a lie And beats in pain to be set free
Mournful weeping rips through leaves And dewdrop tears rest so silently And I sit here perched up high Looking down at the time gone by I wonder of the years I've wasted
As the trees become pale The life sucked out of fragile leaves. The sky, covered in dull, meaningless clouds. I watch as Earth welcomes Winter With a friendly, extended hand.
pitter-patter like little feetraindrops tapping on mine pane bitter burns hiss and slitherremembrance dismantles my sane moist summers and eerie chimesfingertips lost within your mane
After all the people leave— The raucous laughter has died down, goodbyes have been said, The lights have all gone out, and people have left for some other party— What happens to a building?  
There is a time when one must step back and see the tens of thousands of backstories working together to build one using only the tissue of the heart. They carve in and haul out,
I'm a visioner I see great things happening- Poetic Buildings  
Subscribe to building