The Three Dimensions of YouAlthough I am not a wise manThe Three Dimensions of You2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Let it be known that I do have the privilege to see
Something that you can not
The beauty of your face three-dimensionally
Artists put down your brushes
Your strokes can't do justice to the contours of her frame
And poets put down your pen
No verse could describe the light that shines behind her name
Although I am not a wise man
Let it be said that I do have the privilege to see
Your beauty as it outruns time
With each passing year in three hundred and sixty degrees
Artists stop mixing your oils
No colour will come close to matching the shades of her skin
And poets close your note books
As to describe her eyes you would not know where to begin
Although I am not a wise man
Let me praise God that I do have the privilege to hear
Something that you do not
That is your voice resonating gently in my ear
I am an artist, a poet
Guiding images and words to creation from conception
Yet in her soul, body and mind
I have discovered three indefinable dimensions
Diamante LightDarkDiamante Light2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Unseeing Engulfing Shrouding
Eternal Sleep Awaken Now
Squinting Basking Seeing
Poetry by Suzanne Karbach
10th Feb 2016
pretty weedsdandelions on growth hormonespretty weeds18 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
sprout like mad upon the dawn
it’s a yellow petal war zone
after we mow the lawn
The ThoughtsThe sickness and the growlThe Thoughts3 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
It consumes my soul,
Life has no flow...
I only feel sorrow.
Stranded between four walls
I can feel their madness,
Piercing my mind
With the darkest nightmares.
In the horrific hallway
A few souls are astray
Being pray to the demons...
There is no other way.
The wardens stay still,
But yet, they move fast
Do not fear them,
They will help...at last.
tercet 74find some other waytercet 742 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
than getting old and gray
to choose your day
The SorrowIn the dark abyss it dwellsThe Sorrow2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
bound by heavy iron chains
locked away by ancient spells
knowing only endless pain
Once it walked the earth and sea
knowing happiness and song
Now it lives in misery
wondering what it did wrong
GLaDOSGenetic Lifeform and Disc Operating SystemGLaDOS15 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
You told them not to and they didn't listen
You won't be blamed for their mistake
Judging from your throne and eating all the cake
a devastation tercetTo their lopsided foundationa devastation tercet2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Burned my oldest, most secret dreams
I felt the deepest devastation
.:Unforgettable Friend:.Yesterday was a day to remember,.:Unforgettable Friend:.2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
For it gave me a friend I can never forget ever.
Today, I look forward for your birthday,
And celebrate like it is an exotic holiday.
Tomorrow I see you as an important part of my life,
A gift when I think of makes me feel extremely nice.
Have a gorgeous Birthday My Friend!
The Oceans And All It's Inheritance In the land of CthulhuThe Oceans And All It's Inheritance 15 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
the kraken devours the sunken ones, the sirens lure the sailors
No use of canons nor guns
Poseidon rules the tides,
Waves and winds, storms and flow
Only for the brave to encounter
Or thy fools be given a good show
Tales of monsters and myths
Moby Dick, Jonah and the whale
Triton and more leviathans
Pirates with swords and ale
Whirlpools and blizzards
Thunder and lightning fill the sky
Waves bigger than most mountains
A thousand ways to die
Depth and cold, diseases and mutiny
Water, water everywhere
But not a drop to drink
Turning everyone in to despair
Urban legends or folklore
Blackbeard, Davy Jones' locker
The lost city of Atlantis
All to be true or a way of shocker
The seven seas, mythical
With all their beauty, uncontrollable
The mighty oceans, vulnerable
Yet not all discovered, so mystical
DrunksDrunksDrunks2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Simplistic views through amber pools;
aggressive tendencies reach out and rules.
While extended views require new duels;
so each and any, by occurrence, are fools.
JR Jones 05-29-2012
That last mileHow long,That last mile2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
To march that final mile
Will it be quick
Or be a long while
Enough to check the records
And what's all on file
As we walk
That final mile.
With great heart
And a hesitant part
We pack our things
Into the cart
Slowly but surely
We are moving on
The future beckons all
Who are we that deny the call?
Except to our detriment we fall
So we just as well as smile.
As we march
Along that final mile.
'Tall Girls Are Beautiful'.'Tall girls are beautiful', I see the poster say,'Tall Girls Are Beautiful'.2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
looking down to myself I feel my feelings turn grey.
Tall girls are perfect, I feel my soul pour out into my mind,
as I awake to see I am the same height as days before this one.
Tall girls are fair, loving as well as a lot more cute,
much more appealing for him, a fair or perfect height for a kiss.
But short girls can never reach their favourite snacks,
we have to pull up a chair and climb the sides of our kitchens.
Short girls have to tippy toe,
just to kiss him on the lips in the right way he wants.
Short girls can't look down on those who they love, only up,
which leads us to remind ourselves we always remain “small”.
Tall girls can stroll by and scare a small girl like me,
because we fear you might just realize, that tall girl is who we want to be.
You might hang up your coat and walk out on me...
Still I try my hardest to be proud of myself,
for short girls are beautiful inside and out.
Height should not determine emot
Crooked CoincidenceThe culture we defineCrooked Coincidence3 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Is the culture we retwine,
A culture so sublime,
Not of past but future time.
In ancient clast and molten tin.
In spaces vast yet spread so thin.
Through apex time and spaces been.
To higher stasis been barred in.
To parallax from ancient Greece.
To places low or kicked beneath.
To places high with glory nigh.
Or spelled in blood or cookie crud?
There's one below, a crooked stowe.
BowlEncased in a dusty flower bowlBowl3 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
With marbles and mayfly wings
A fellow with many aster bows
Converses his gatherings
His clothing has faded by the light
As flowers around his feet
The details like pebbles in the stream
Are warm with a smile they keep
A sparrow relaxed upon his knee
And lizards between his toes
They play with the faeries high above
In sunlight that lost its glow
A world with a border made of clay
Slow turning into unknown
But stories have endings just like day
And tales need time to grow
While creatures are careless in their game
The fellow is loved to see
A safety in having quiet shade
As dust overtakes the bowl
Their features are smoothing out with time
As flecks will begin to blow
His wishes imparted scattered fly
And so dissapears the fellow
Punk RockerI want to be a punk rockerPunk Rocker2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
And put my face on your t-shirt
Won’t you be my drummer?
We are AllWe are shamed by all we’ve doneWe are All3 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Things we do every day, every hour, and every second
As our heart Bleeds so does our soul
We walk streets Lined with pain
We feel it all folded thousands of times on
As our heart Breaks so does our mind
We don’t like the way we are
And we don’t like the way know us as
As our heart Screams So does our conscience
We see the light and pure
Like we see the Dark and evil
As our Heart fears so does our ghost
We prepare for the best
And are let down by the worst
As our heart cries so does our Sight
We are done wrong by the Nice
And we are shown the truth by the dirty
As our heart opens so does our emotions
When We are brought to the light
We forget the mean, evil and corrupt
As our heart Rests In Peace So does all
Guide Life begins when you decide to look for simplicity.Soon, I guarantee, you will realize that you carry one very dangerous,yet so special power- the power to see world that surrounds you the way you choose to see it. And you know what the magical part is about that power of yours? The knowledge that it depends just on your choice, so choose to seek, choose to explore, choose to understand. Wake up with a choice to learn, because, why waste everything even one day can show you? Open your eyes, pull the hair away from your face, tell your mom you love her and go participate. Show Allah how grateful you are to be given a heart so pure that if it chooses to, it can find beauty in everything. Go look for simplicity, and let me know what you find.Guide 1 day ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
A Soul's Dreadful ChaosA Soul's Dreadful Chaos2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
An imaginary sinful man,
who only needed to be loved,
blamed himself for the Nightmare's rosing.
He thought hiding his mind and form
and that years of sleeping behind a coffin's door
would vanish the burning gaze of that painful memory.
He believed that losing his crimson ones
would make her brown ones
to fade, to be washed away,
to leave at once.
He thought that if he didn't smile again
he would forget the warmth
of his beloved person's radiant smile.
He believed that if he tried to never feel anything anymore,
he wouldn't feel that uncontrolably hurting sore.
He came to the conclusion
that if he never opened himself from now on,
he wouldn't hurt anyone to the core,
as no living person or being
would care in any way for him.
But even though trying so hard
that womans laughter still echoes in his heart.
That womans desperate pleads
still make his soul dwelt between
blaming the fault on him
and scooping her tears to see
the initiate blissful grace
of her beautiful loving face.
There's Always a Flag Flying at Half-Mast"There's Always a Flag Flying at Half-Mast"There's Always a Flag Flying at Half-Mast2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
by Seth Shirer
There's always a flag flying at half-mast,
hanging limply up there on the flagpole,
because of some tragedy now since past,
And now our hearts each bear an empty hole.
What bad thing happened somewhere this time?
What horrific scenes will be in the news?
Go hear the rushing vehicles and klaxons,
emergency response teams, rescue crews.
No one seems safe wherever they should be,
not even the children placed in their schools.
The evil ones seek infamous glory,
While bystanders look, act and feel like fools.
Some crazy people do these wicked deeds
in the name of some worshiped foul being-
gods, demons, or merely voices in their heads-
which only they're capable of seeing.
Some bitter person has an ax to grind,
bearing grievances towards all the world,
and so the innocent people are hurt,
and from the aggressor's hand, pain is hurled.
The talking heads all across the media,
The politicians up on their hill...
If none o
Katy's Banquet (Ru)Katy's Banquet (Ru)14 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Однажды было, в рань иль встарь:
Я глянул утром в календарь,
И что в чернильной черноте
Печатным шрифтом на листе?
Дня ресторатора канун!
И раз такое дело,
The Beast of BellinghamI watch you in your underwearThe Beast of Bellingham2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
beget the beast of bellingham.
You carve her such a tired stare
no timid eyes, a sunken glare
that cry, "I AM, AND ALWAYS AM
WHAT BLOWS THE WIND IN BELLINGHAM."
Outside you hear her rumbling
the treetops gust and groan;
"We are alive tonight to sing
the beast she's finally home!"
The door-frame creaks, you mark and streak
her face appears at last.
She croons, "I AM AND ALWAYS AM
WHAT TOWERS OVER BELLINGHAM."
the beast, by God! she's vast.
The Rising MoonI bent my tears to the rising moonThe Rising Moon14 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
and to me, she gave her light
I reached to touch the rising moon
but she trembled at the sight
I whispered to the rising moon
she swallowed every word
I cut apart the rising moon
her silver screams, unheard
I put bars around the rising moon
for her freedom, she did cry
I whipped and gouged the rising moon
till tears fell from her eye
I grounded up the rising moon
and made of her bones, tea
I drank to the health of the rising moon
now she truly is a part of me
The Winter King (A Story Of Depression)The Winter King in his palace of iceThe Winter King (A Story Of Depression)1 day ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Mountainous crystal edifice
Perched upon a frozen throne
Feeling cold, and all alone
He begged his gods for some reprieve
A little sun, a chance to leave
But the sky was silent, stark and grey
The King thought, "Maybe, another day"
Tonight or tomorrow, in month or a year
One day, they'll answer, one day, they'll hear
He prayed so loud, with fervor and fire
Over the quiet of his empty empire
A century passed, or maybe a week
He'd cried for so long, he could barely speak
Still on the throne, just barely living
The sky still silent, and unforgiving
A tear trickled down and froze on his cheek
The future was dim, the present was bleak
He gave his last breath and died on his seat
In agony, sorrow and bitter defeat