After The ShockA lovely day, but now the streets are redAfter The Shock2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
with blood, and tears of innocence and grief
throughout the country and the world are shed.
Our thoughts are with the many hurt and dead.
They justify their vile and coward crime
with will of god. A skewed and sick belief
which uses faith as guise to hide behind.
I say today: your god’s no God of mine!
and every human sane, for none would claim
the death of men, whatever they believe.
No God would back a murder in his name.
So let us stand our values to reclaim.
IgnoranceIgnoranceIgnorance1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
e n l i g h e n s
c r e a t e s
tercet 18she comes and she goestercet 181 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
like clouded moonlight
on fresh fallen snow
Dreaming DreamlessFallingDreaming Dreamless3 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
In the dark
Yet not moving
To a sound
That wasn't there
For a dream
That's still fading
On to hope
That is gone
Days gone by
It feels so real
Yet you know it's not
And changes plot
And changing scenes
These mystic thoughts
Are merely dreams
You wake to
A different day
Find sorrow, pain
As they fade away
You try to grasp them
Keep each memory
As it went
You long to
And as the darkness takes its hold
You wonder if you will, and when
BottlesWhen cups age, do messages in bottles seem so full?Bottles3 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
And the old days, when we were young, what are they in the wool?
I’ve seen skies, turn black and blue like beaten smiles I had
Just staring, out between the glasses
The rains dry, and spore caps in their glamour scatter dust
My child eyes, keep watching where the wind goes through the bends
Just staring, out past my gambling hand about to bust
Just staring, out between my glasses
The shoes fly, attached as I can carry all the weight
What goes on, the road song, a clattering of soles and ancient taste
I’ve seen things, the sweetness in the bulb grown tired lines
By staring, out between the glasses
Just staring, to capture all the waves
The glass blows, and tired drinking games
The rain will fall, and stalks span tall, reminding me the time
By staring, out between the glasses
VeteranRaise a cheer for those gone byVeteran2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Sing a praise for those still here
Give the heroes a place to lie
Keep their memories ever near
Send a nod to the fallen
Tip your hat to the maimed
Take a moment for calling
To those graves unnamed
This is a victory tune
This is a thank you card
For your time in ruin
And your decisions hard
We salute our warriors
Those here and those gone
For fending off harriers
Keeping us from being wan
Come, march on home
Your service is done
You need no longer roam
For your day is won
This Is Not The MessageLend me your ears as I feel like I need to say somethingThis Is Not The Message2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
And though it's not for me to defend my faith
Could you please focus on the many who come in peace
Not those few that breed fear, panic and hate
Do not allow these impostors to narrow your thoughts
As there will be less room for you to find
That this level of violence has nothing to do with religion
But rather a brainwashed and vulnerable mind
This is not the message the Messenger sent
This is a misinterpretation of the truth
That disgusts me and my sisters and brothers
Just as much as it disgusts each one of you
Lend me your eyes as I feel like I need to do something
And speak out even if you wont listen
Perhaps your mind has already been too polluted
By the terror on the walls of your minds prison
Take a moment to look at those bars that surround you
They are cast in steel made from anxious thoughts
You worry that you and yours might be next to suffer
So you will remain in that cell you were caught
This is not the mes
Save MeTell me a sweet lie,Save Me1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Under my closed right eye,
Give me bars of lye,
So I cannot cry,
Deafen me, please try,
They yell and belie,
They will come at me,
As they always do,
The WitchWith my black hair and white skinThe Witch1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
I've the might to open portals
Yet it's easy for me to blend in
and merge in this world of mortals
Superficially normal, even humane
Sensing normal tastes and smells
But on a shelf in my domain
I keep a book of spells
When darkness falls and midnight lands
I'll chant and I'll connive
From the book, through my hands
Black magic comes alive
It flows in me just like a flood
During witching hour, young
Runes that curse unfaithful blood
I voice in demon tongue
No servant of heaven or hell
I believe in neither place
Though they hunt me, they cannot tell
That mine is a witch's face
It's a cold night in early fall
Mobs make their way through
Though you humans want to burn us all
Our fight is not with you
You really think I can be killed?
I guess you've never had a look
Into what made me more than skilled,
You don't know of my spellbook
Skeletal Hands EmergeBeneath a full moon on All Hallow's Eve, a manSkeletal Hands Emerge1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Wearing a mask moves among tombstones and shadows
The loot from his robbery firm within his grasp
As his path weaves between the graves, pieces of earth
Are pushed upward and crumble by forceful effort
Skeletal hands emerge from the resulting holes
Pulling corpses from their coffins, and they surround
Him before he could pass the cemetery wall
As the moving deceased drag him into the ground
Leaving cash and mask behind, his screams go unheard
For by the full moon's silver gleam, the caretaker
With reluctance succumbs to his lycanthropy
TransformationWith a beauty to match what is felt within,Transformation2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
showing the real me that lies just under the skin.
so bravely flying with sun kissed wings,
a release that my soul now freely sings.
Watch me fly, watch me soar through the sky,
reaching and striving for what was so high.
But what came before this appearance altered?
It is the making of a beautiful heart un-faltered.
The rebirth of a butterfly's real haloed light,
is every color of the rainbow blended white.
Having to overcome impossibly dark filled days,
that are but a shadow just beyond a reflections gaze.
Gleaming with all that I am and so much more,
just as a newly transformed butterfly, ready to soar.
no such thingrumors, bedtime stories, legendsno such thing2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
we love our fairy tales
some myths become almost real
as we chase our tails
science, philosophy, religion
all clamor for a precious spot
what we believe
and what we do not
here's a gem for you
as you sip your evening soup
contemplate the big things
stuck in life's loop
I hate to crush your bubble
my dear friend
but there is no such thing
as the end
Lingering LoveShattering my world only makes it betterLingering Love1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Because the more I break, the stronger I become.
Thanks for helping me realize that you don’t matter—
Banging against my heart like a drum
Only makes you an inconvenience.
You’re not worth my time and I must move on,
But my thoughts are always about our experience.
Why can’t it all be gone?
I’m in love with you, but there’s no way we can be together.
My mind has been tampered with forgotten promises.
These repetitive thoughts are just sets of terrible weather.
What is the story of our genesis?
Stitched woundsOnce I was a broken soul,Stitched wounds1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
I trusted the wrong, I was a fool!
I was hurt, near to death,
But you took care of me!
You patched me up, you set me free!
My once broken heart,
You repaired it part by part!
You stitched my soul, you stitched my wounds!
Once I was a broken soul,
But you dragged me out of this black hole!
And all that’s left are a healed soul and stitched wounds!
Le Coeur Brise de la FranceThe Heart of France BrokenLe Coeur Brise de la France2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
((Le Coeur Brisé de la France))
In memory of the victims of the Paris attack of Friday, November 13th, 2015
The Heart of France is now broken,
The City of Light dims out,
All of our brothers and sisters,
Are sending their tears to shout.
Dear Gay Puree is gay no more,
Because of those damned roaches,
Mon Dieu, have mercy on us all,
Get pain out of our coaches.
Avenue de la République,
Two cafes, la Stade de France,
Bataclan, and, oui, Rue de la,
Fontaine au Roi, by a chance.
Paris is very black right now,
So are the hearts of their loss,
Priez pour la foi, mes amis,
Pray for faith by this grim cause.
Terror is the Great Hell's worst kin,
Pray that it doesn't live on,
To maim other innocent folks,
Let's pray to let it begone!
Red, White, and Blue Forever, friends,
Rouge, blanc , et bleu pour toujours!
Tie a black ribbon to your arm,
As we spread hope and amour!
Vive la France! May terror die!
Hope wins! Vive la Paris!
Our hearts go to the Heart of Fr
Wear your tragedies like armorNothing is promised in this worldWear your tragedies like armor2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
In this sea of chaos and pain
So be prepared for the things ahead
Death and destruction are all that awaits
The world will not stop
Not pause to glance at your fall
Time does not slow
Life flows with or without you
So build up your strength
And live on, for the world owes you nothing
Give nothing to it
Least of all yourself
Is Just OneThe life...Is Just One1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Is just one...
I just want...
I don´t know what I want...
Because the life...
Is just one.
on wakingcoffee groundson waking1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
where exhaustion surrounds
PreciousHow precious is sufferingPrecious4 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
A drought before the feast
What are cooling waters
Without the burning sun
How precious is my hunger
I would not be released
If it were to be fed
I'd find another one
How precious is my longing
It still has not decreased
I chase my dark passions
They are second to none
How precious today has been
And I a thrashing beast
Changing very little
But very far from done
AgoniasMonstrous demons calling me forward,Agonias1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
To the endless hell, making me a guard
For tortured souls and agonic spirits
That are being kept in cages,
Hanging from the bloody ceilings
Seven layers of hell,
The demons say they have
But I tell you, as well,
That there is, more than that
Ripped souls and deadly lands
Where bloody rivers pass
Where satanic creatures
Are not something bad
Where gods die in the vilest ways
Where humans are the butchers
Of what they create
Ohh, hell, made of concrete.
(Who can truly justify)Who can truly justify(Who can truly justify)2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Their right to live
Their right to die?
Who could prove on either side
When none here know
The fall or rise,
When darkness comes with penny eyes
To cut our vision
Down to size,
Stealing sound and strength and sight
In that cold, hard,
Who can truly testify?
Who has seen
With their own eyes
The throne of light on which He lies
And bids us welcome
From on high?
Who has truly touched the sky?
And who could preach
And confidence in lofty claims
A going then
“No one!” cries the learned man,
A slave to no
“Despite what every man may wish,
Our final sleep’s
Not like the fish,
“No evidence convinces me.
Can I believe,
For science wins my heart alone,
But lest you think
I’m made of stone:
“There is great power in faith indeed,
For man is fragile
And in need
Of comfort like a little babe
(Our want for Mother
just let me do my jobLet me warm your lipsjust let me do my job1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Let me caress your cheek
Let me fix your heart
with super glue