Forget Me NotDon't forget me.Forget Me Not5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I may not have done anything extraordinary or spectacular.
I may not have cured cancer or flown to the moon.
I may not have played in the big leagues or risen to the top of the corporate world.
I may not have even been anyone's mother or father, brother or sister.
But I existed.
I was a name among billions, a face in the crowd.
You may not have noticed me as you walked past me in the street, but I was there; silently watching you as you comfortably ignored everyone around you.
I was the one who did the things that you never thought of, the things you didn't dream of for horror that you may need to complete them yourself.
I was the one who quietly listened to your murmurings of dissent against the world and wordlessly sympathised with you for the tomorrow you so longed for.
I was the one who heard you dream big and silently encouraged you to follow that dream; fearing that any word coming from me would be seen as scandalous.
I was invisible to you but I was there for yo
Miss Papillon....Hello,Miss Papillon....5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My name is Miss Papillon
I am the "strange" girl in the eyes of others
But, typical for me
With very colorful laughter
that doesn't run from childish games
I knew beauty
And lost it
Children used to call me "corpse".
I shed black tears
And lost all the so-called friends
Now I see myself beautiful again
Beautiful because of the colored laughter,
Cause of my childish games
Although I am 23 years old.
I am a fighter for moving mountains from my way
To not avoid them
A dreamer, although I have no wings
I believe I can fly
Smart because I haven't believed those who've called me crazy
I am special,
Fantastic's and stories I would like to be my world
Where everything that's beautiful you can come true.
But I've created my own stories;
Stories where people looked for me
Where I broke gardens, or a door
Or maybe a room was burning!
Now ... now they're funny to me
Adventure and horror stories
Where I fought
For me, with me
With evil people, with demons,
The false, false
Life Hides Lovethe whisper below your wordsLife Hides Love3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
is your soul telling me
that you're starving it
that the end of infinity
can't come quickly enough
and i whisper back, my dear,
that life hides love deeply
in the most painful of places
that love finds its way
through the maze
not by looking for light
or dark, but by
balancing and building
both into something
tall and climbable, yet
low and comfortable
so when curious eyes rise
peer over the walls
and realize the labyrinth
stretches into forever,
there's something soft
between you and the ground
to catch you
when you let go
love is bigger, sharper
softer than what any selves
can want or need
it's our all-scention
through, above and below walls
without ever leaving them, it's
our becoming a station
of peace along the way
asymptomaticinability to stop self hatred,asymptomatic4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
migraine for almost two days straight.
no phone call back from my psychiatrist.
I am sweating.
it takes one typed letter for
your blog to pop up in my search history;
I'm not sure if you can call this poetry either,
though I can call the shots on what I feel.
(whether it is a burn or not - five hundred
miles does not mean that my heart doesn't ache so hard;
my body is quivering. I want to vomit.)
there are hickeys up and down my left wrist;
though they are not from kisses but the lips of
my nailbeds as I ran them over and over my skin.
this weekend I will have to explain to my boyfriend
why I don't use my pencil sharpener on art anymore,
but instead on my thighs - I will use the phrase
"a moment of weakness."
but you are not a moment, nor a fault -
you are caesar's downfall, though the whole
world will die knowing that it was his own blood
on his hands.
OrchestraFour a.m is uneasy -Orchestra5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
time purloined and left
hanging on the bed posts.
You said I crowd your sleep,
feet and hands slipping cotton,
pulling dreams in paper streams
like the nest of wasps
growing restless in the tree.
Your legs make room for me,
for the sound of weather
happening on the roof,
and warm the space above us,
setting fire to the drapes again.
Just let me feel your clavicle
press under my hips
where daylight squeezes in
and hinges us.
So we both can waken slowly,
you know, like kids in summer
who long for everything to never end
and the sky to be an orchestra
What Forever IsTicks and tocksWhat Forever Is4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
drip from the frozen clock,
whispering four in the morning to the swaying floor.
My breath tastes like stars,
masked by greedy clouds,
and painted in an suffocating autumn breeze.
My fingers play muffled chords,
between neighbor's snores,
to an invisible audience, hidden in the creaks of the house.
The air smells of pencil shavings,
and stuffed animal tears,
and relaxation coats my bare limbs, on each icy breath of wind.
"I've figured it out,"
I whisper to myself in the dark,
mind painted in serene shades of green,
as my eyelids flutter like drowning paperdolls.
Your name falls from my lips when I close my eyes,
to no one but my bedroom walls,
and bedraggled zebras painted in eyeliner.
You tuck me in,
feet pulled from under the covers,
and plant a kiss on the hollow of my neck,
bare bodies nestled as one.
Your strong arms pull me from jarring nightmares.
You tuck my toes between your legs when they're cold.
It's you that sp
In Fate's ArmsI wish I had the right amount of words,In Fate's Arms5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the proper adjectives, or nouns,
to weave sweet paragraphs
of how much I love you.
I wish I was a true poet,
or a stunning artist.
So I could maybe one day,
show you how much you mean to me.
Through a heart shattering ode,
or the perfect painting of your angelic face.
I bet there's a keeper,
of all the love in the world.
Maybe he knows,
the proper way to tell you.
Maybe he'll flip through his book,
find our names intertwined by ink.
Maybe he'll look up at me,
with a smile on his ancient lips,
one that says, "This is real love.
Don't let it slip away."
And finally, I'll be able
to put into words,
how you make me feel.
How much I adore you.
That you mean the world to me.
The entire Earth.
The moon, and Pluto, too.
That you make me want to cry,
because it hurts so much
that I can't have you.
And you make me want to make love with you,
make me want you so bad.
All in the same moment.
That my heart,
The Tree That BurnsThe Tree That Burns (1991)The Tree That Burns5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Tree of earth and barren sod,
Scarred, charred hard by livid god--
Lightning clawed from gnawed, mawed skies;
Good wood withstood ire-fired eyes.
What prim, trim trees will you sire?
Damned root and branch blanch the pyre!
In pith and flame, your venom churns:
What fate awaits the Tree that burns?
Man of Earth and scorched sod,
Homeless, alone with none but God--
Wet dry lips with flask of Reason;
Warm cool thoughts in hapless season.
What gut gutted, brags and squirms?
Stoked bole, once split--gags woodworms!
Vain, vexed visions foiled, coil and roil:
What weed's seeds grow in dead, red soil?
True wisdom stems from rotted things:
Trees reborn, shadow wisest kings.
UtopiaThe spiders spin silver silk nets,Utopia5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to collect the dawn's tears of joy.
And I walk along emerald grasses and sunbeams.
My fingers trail through oceans of dew,
collected in the leaves' cupped hands.
And my toes explore overgrown forests.
The sun pries apart the leafy canopy
with eager fingers,
peering down on us inquisitively,
I smile up at it blissfully,
"The Sun's come to say good morning, my darling." I whisper,
and my hand caresses my bare stomach.
A hidden orchestra of colourful birds
sing us a song,
muffled by the audience of leaves.
It's almost lullaby-esque,
the sun warming my skin,
the music drifting between the trees,
and I lower us to the ground.
Mossy fingers reach up to welcome us,
a bed from the Earth cushioning my body.
The dew cools my sun-kissed cheeks,
and worn toes,
as I let my eyes flutter closed.
The sun beats down on them, still,
painting bright masterpieces on my eyelids,
and my hands cup themselves around my belly once more,
"The Sun shines for you,
I'm too poor to feel so middle class.My teeth still ache from the dentist,I'm too poor to feel so middle class.3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
but it doesn’t stop me from nibbling
the cheese danish I bought at Kroger
this morning, warmed by thirty
seconds in the microwave. My mug
of hot chocolate is too big, and I
drink it all. The washer is on its last
cycle; the cat is purring at my feet.
Netflix is background noise
to clacking keys, typing a transcript
of middle class morning that I’ll later
call a poem or a turning point,
wondering when I became such an adult.
A wise man saidI went down to the boulevardA wise man said4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
and watched the sun set all alone
I thought I heard my favourite music play
when it was really just rock 'n roll.
And so I turned my back to the morning sun
asked for the first strong drink to come
and as the barman said 'No' I thought I had misheard
but then I saw you through the open door.
A wise man said:
"What you get is never ever what you're looking for
and what you want is rarely ever what you need"
But what I want – it's pretty clear to me
I want you; won't you come with me?
I know the past has got its ghosts and bloody skeletons
I know the future's never ours to see
But in the end I'm just a really foolish simpleton
the only thing that I can lose is me.
~Clarinet Solo. Hell yeah.~
Of course I see that there's a difference
you've got a name and life prepared
you've got it all lined out in your little book
and I'm the one who's getting scared.
So if you feel secure then don't look back
don't save me any of your smiles
but if you're looking for
NightmareYour mind is restless.Nightmare5 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
As you toss and turn throughout the night,
Your body completely breathless.
Try to you escape as you might.
* I *
The world twists and turns,
As a being comes out of the fire.
There is a demon inside you learn,
You know that a soul is what he desires.
* Got *
He comes to you an whispers in your ear,
You let out a screech of terror,
His demonic voice is what you hear,
It is too much for you to endeavor.
* You *
The demon's cold fingers come out and reach,
"Your soul is mine to reap,"
You've now become incapable of speech.
"Forever for me to hold and to keep."
* Now *
Lovelove is when the butterfliesLove5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in your stomach brush the
dust off their wings and learn
to fly again
VesuviusMy sweet Pompeii- whatVesuvius9 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
have I done? I exploded,
and now you are gone.
I Wrote This For YouI Wrote This For You5 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I Wrote This For You, It's Sweet, Loving, and Caring... Just Like You
I'm the reflection in your eyes
The warmth on your lips
and the flutter in your heart
I'm the air you breath
The light you see
and the voice you crave
A passionate kiss
and a breath taking touch
Gives your body such a rush
Hand in hand
Heart to heart
We shouldn't be apart
Can you see me
Can you hear me
Better yet, can you feel me
Will you be my lasting moment
Not another painful memory
You're the greatest feeling
Setup in the perfect moment
You bring it soft and slow
This is what we want
It's what we need
Just you and me
True love we'll help each other see
Our hearts we're stealing
We're something we'll never regret
Legal ChoicesLiable and Lie-able:Legal Choices4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He is able-bodied.
Will you believe him?
Should he tell you of scarlet-red rubies and forests in the dark?
Or trick you into this and that
and stop that sleeping for a while.
This bloody liability
will need some lie-ability.
holding up traffica strange fellowholding up traffic5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
bestowed his slow strut
upon the side-walk
(I watched as if
the other flailed
as if conducting
the wild orchestra
that was his own
he was just-more-
than walking in place
as the sun kicked
from the wet-
of those behind me
had begun to
this man did not
know the world
that imprisoned me
the way dogs dream;
legs kicking, barking, whining,
in another realm
and as cars
middle fingers like
to amplify the,
Move it asshole!
there was a place
I'd rather be.
I Exhale SunlightIt's dawn,I Exhale Sunlight4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the moon and the sun passively share the same sky,
a calm spread between them, after their fight for centre stage.
Fog licks at my cheekbones,
searching for perfection beneath my flawed skin,
and hidden birds call to the indifferent stars, as they sink into the pool of early light.
and concrete coated in dew by condenstion's tongue.
like cloud kin pinned to flowers, to be spread across the Earth,
are being scattered on moth's whispering wings.
Streetlamps flicker their goodbyes,
humanity's last secrets hissed to one and other, before their flames are blown out.
Jetstreams drag sleepy fingers across the sky,
gentle wrist bones and graceful knuckles painting a vivid salmon across mauve.
A puff of white fur pounces on my shoelaces,
that weave and dance with every step.
She seems to be painted with the same shades of the thumbnail moon above our heads.
we're the same.
And I gather her into my arms.
Serenity flows between my bones, and ti
flyover state, flyover heartthere's almost nothingflyover state, flyover heart6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
left of august, or me -
just fat, humid yawns that
cling to the asphalt and
vinyl sidings of houses
prettier than any autumn day.
chlorined kids rise from the
tanned wake of public pools,
clothed in school uniforms,
counting the new freckles
they've earned like war badges.
the nights i can lay in my
underwear beneath spider web
blankets while my wheezy fan
oscillates and whispers dusty
stories are numbered.
but i'll hold the moon
as it crests over summer's
dying vigil, my arms high
around it's wondrous girth.
i'll ride the heat into the
ashes of three months spent
dreaming in fevered euphoria.
i'll lead the impassioned
thousands down margins tucked
into a waning, wailing cry.
and i won't rest, even after
august is buried between blue
lined composition pages in a
coffin of lead - a memory with no
scent becoming one without a heartbeat.