Hidden ColorsSo here we go again.Hidden Colors4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Trying to be friends?
Well let's face it,
we both changed in such a short time.
You want to give this a try once more.
You ask me again with those big hazel eyes.
As your sleek, black hair falls to your face.
You try for my trust yet again, with that hidden heart.
Hiding every emotion.
Keeping tears hidden inside
so no one will see.
This won't work again with your little secrets.
You close yourself off, as I open my heart.
I'm being more careful, but not too much.
You can still look inside me.
Look into these eyes still filled with feeling and color.
I'm telling the truth.
Showing all that's inside once again.
All you need to do is peek inside and see.
I'm trying for you, why can't you do the same?
I look into your hazel eyes and look for the truth.
All I see is the color disappear as a wall takes its place.
I'm being blocked out
by that heart I knew so well.
I see your mind in disarray.
So I will wait for a moment.
But I won't wait forever.
I'm opening up little b
Dear PoppyDear Poppy,Dear Poppy3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It's the summer solstice, the longest day of the year, and I watch you dash through the field among crimson, bell shaped flowers. The sun is only now beginning to set, yet already it's well past your bedtime. But this evening is so perfect, and your face is so full of happiness that I am loath to end it. Your six year old form seems so small to me, yet so vibrant. You scamper through the fields, the pounding of your footsteps disturbing flurries of dragonflies, leaving only giggles and shrill little shrieks in your wake, as your father chases you in the guise of some monster. I can't help but burst into laughter as he finally catches you, gathering you in his arms and pretending to gobble you up. I could gobble you up, every last inch of you. The retreating sun bounces off your hair, lending it a golden hue and illuminating your deep blue eyes. Others say that your face is too plain, your hair is too fine, even that you are too small for your age. But I ignore them, let the
Girl, Reincarnated.Perhaps in a past life you were made of ink,Girl, Reincarnated.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
your eyes speckled like blotting paper,
complexion smooth as parchment.
And maybe your voice was storm cloud rolling
because I see your words
and they fill my heart with rain,
not the heavy kind that revels
in punching holes in butterfly wings but rather
the mist that paints the dew and
leaves the sky beautifully grey.
At the very least your soul was a mourning dove,
as there's a lilting sorrow in your words
that the air carries like a melody,
were I to speak them aloud
I would sing, hoping that my voice wouldn't shake
with your weeping.
Between My Silent Sobs and CriesBetween My Silent Sobs and CriesBetween My Silent Sobs and Cries2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The soul I vowed to keep
From the man with whom I sleep.
And he rails, he rails
But I vowed to love and keep him;
And I meant it sincerely.
When the blossoms were blowing sweet
Has scooped up all the bugs and dirt
From the fallen autumn leaves
And guards the scum upon them
And I am terrified of a winter
Of some snow piled crisp and deep
In such a blinding whiteness
I could lose what I would keep.
Lover, oh Lover
You're missing the verdant spring
And I know there's still a soul in you
As ever there has been
But you walk now like a leper
Like a ghost that took your eyes
I wait beside your sepulcher
As each kind and sweet bit dies
You rail, you rail
But I will not compromise:
I vowed to you and so vowed true
To your ghost, til my demise
And you will know my love for you--
Between my silent sobs and cries.
Artist, Take Up--Oh beautiful artist, take up yourArtist, Take Up--3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Dark materials and sketch
Hold this moment and that
Tight; Caress the grass and the
Trees with your pencil,
Let your pen sing love songs to
The curves of this face,
The soft textures of hair and fur and shirt and skin-
Oh artist, take up
The lonely calling, yours and
The child who waches in her own world,
That painting that lies on the wall...
As a lover, woo:
The world, our playmate and nursemaid,
Loves to be flattered. She will
Stand still for you for years and years,
Mountains holdingh patiently for
Many portraits over millenia,
Grass on your knees and water on my feet.The sky was a deep overwhelming blanket tucked into the spots our limbs couldn'tGrass on your knees and water on my feet.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
fill, and the stars were the brewing passion burning through the bruised fragments
of me, gobbling up all of my fear in flickers to tickle my secrets until they cried
mercy and gave themselves up to be saved by the gentle graze of your hands.
You filled and overfilled my arms until there was no room for me to hug the trees
anymore, but the wind carried my affection which moved the branches to find the
will to reach out to the sky, slowly caressing the invisible clouds back and forth,
forth and back, and the perfect crescent moon married them over and over until
the sun would stop hiding and they could all stand face to face again, unveiled.
The blades of grass were tiptoeing timidly across our backs until the power of the
weight of our yearning bodies urged them into a run and sent them rolling and
crashing into one other, taking all the chances we quickly forgot to cower from,
falling in love from a simpl
Born AgainThe river, awake again, slips through the countryside,Born Again3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
violently vibrant like all things in the spring
as it drinks the snowy banks and swallows
the roads that did not read the caution signs.
The water heads for the coast in celebration
of the return of the warmth of the sun,
cause to laugh again, and dance barefoot in the grass.
The spring celebration is masked in religious pretext,
but the pagan appreciation for everyday rebirth
cannot be denied as even the most pious bare skin
and enjoy the sensuous flesh of the fruit that speckles
the lush green canvass with reds and blues,
The sweet taste has returned to the land,
the Holiness no longer entombed in ice,
divinity inhaled with each breath of air,
the land is baptized by the floodwaters
and all the sins of winter are forgiven.
ThinWhen I was growing up my mother never kept a scale in the house. I never noticed this as a child. I was accustomed to checking my weight visiting my grandmother's house; a monthly checkup just for fun. Yet every child reaches an age where the numbers staring back at them start to mean something. When I reached this point, I asked my mother why we didn't own a scale.Thin3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
She looked at me with serious eyes and said, "Because I know how easy it is to get obsessed over such things. I don't want you to have to go through that."
I love you for preventing it as long as you could, Mom.
Rarely in my life have I met a person and even so much as noticed how much they weigh. These things never occur to me. I'm more preoccupied with who the person is: their personality, their character, their humor. Keeping a constant record of the weight of people I meet has never even seemed an option.
That said, I have always had a disconcerting little obsession with my own weight.
It started out so simple and innoc
Frozen MemoriesBy accident,Frozen Memories4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I found her tombstone.
It lay buried beneath snow,
encased in ice,
under a canopy of white held aloft by the trees.
I had been walking,
as I often do,
on the clouds of steam rising from my mouth,
and what they meant to me,
when my foot caught hold of the crumbling cross,
and sent me tumbling down...
I caught myself on hands in a sea of crystal white,
flesh stinging from the cold,
my foot aching in pain,
burning hot in the winter wood.
Why would there be a grave here?
What poor soul would be forever lost in this hollow?
in the cold,
throughout the fading light,
and into a darkness of falling snow,
I worked to unmask the grave,
and reveal the name of the damned.
I toiled for hours,
until my fingers went numb and bled,
spilling red upon the white,
a contrast so stark in hurt my eyes,
but in such beauty that was not lost on me,
until I could reveal the faint carvings that were letters.
Her name was as beautiful as I'm sure she was in life,
A Protomen MonologueYou dont know who we are. You dont know our names. Heck, you dont even know if we have names. You dont know where were from, how we got here, how we keep going. But what youre here tonight to learn, to know, is why were here. Why the governments after our heads. Why the robots are on constant alert. Why, every night, we risk our necks for you ignorant masses.A Protomen Monologue6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
I dont mean to offend when I say that; its the plain and simple truth. You are ignorant, and we are here to teach. Let me tell you a story of the time before the robots. Before the world fell to the iron will and iron soldiers of one man.
Before the robots there was music. And I dont mean the monotonous political garbage they feed you on the loudspeakers every night. I dont mean the mantra you chant daily, brain
RulesRulesRules2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You do not know how hard I cry,
When I see the letter 'i'
Written as a letter, small,
And not allowed to grow up tall.
There is a part of me that bleeds
Every single time I read
A poem where the punctuation's lacking
It may be style but I think it's slacking.
I get all tied-up in a tizz
When you don't know what enjambment is.
Read it up, why don't you, please
Line breaks don't tell you where to breathe.
Simple things like commas, can,
When mauled by misunderstanding hands,
Be placed like decorations on a face
And never know their rightful place.
A period, our lovely friend,
Denotes where a sentence ends.
So leave him out? I think no,
Unless you want your sentence to go
On and on and on and on
Until the mind is deadened, gone.
Semi-colons, hyphens, dashes,
Each one of these adds splashes
Of punctuated colour upon our page;
They aren't outdated they cannot age.
Punctuation and grammar; two best friends,
Governed by rules that should not b
I.My bones were glass blown:I.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Crafted to curve lowly -
(un)beautifully - furling like
Imagine me transmuted, bursting through
desquamated skin. Picture my
clay-molded contours liquified
and awakened, shifted:
But I am unseasoned - grape-shelled,
guileless. Esotericism is overflowing
in my veins:
This path is as smudged as
its traveler (skidding yet
never slowed), clotted
Watch my fingers splay, breaking
from my tendons to
grasp tangible air
You can neither scorch nor
whittle me into
nail-sized hopelessness, only
Steeled, my jaw is set -
diffident, not shattered.
The VohngaradWand'ring herdsman,The Vohngarad3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Heir to Thrimbor,
Throne of Ishtar.
Brings morn with the
In lands remote
Dark lord watcheth,
Fixed on Vohengir
Last of Vrinnsblood.
Old blood steeling.
Here the fate of
All men resteth,
Bear the blood of
All men mortal
Molni watches Vohengir resting.
Blessed of Thrimbor
cold sweat beading
Pale white hands grasp,
Gone in a flash:
[They] Leave behind a
souls are teeming,
[A] Weapon in the
rock is hidden.
A sword unwrought
by hand or steel
but will alone.
A light within
the darkness shone.
This his quest is,
Then at long last,
Misty fog banks
come rolling in
the flock murdered
Roots are showing,
Molni then gasped
Red ShiftI. Stasis i.Red Shift2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"I need to hide a body,"
Before a question is asked
I. Stasis ii.
I hang up on him
Wait for vivisection
Wait for him to call back
What he heard.
I can hear him
Go back to sleep.
II. Intravenous i.
He is alive.
Photos of him
Have a distant red shift
In his eye.
Photos of me
Have an approaching blue tint
In the iris.
I wait for him to call back
What he heard.
II. Intravenous ii.
For the others
I had hid a town or two away.
Won't break the cul-de-sac asphalt
Where forest floor
II. Intravenous iii.
I am postcards away
When a dissected victim
His tone is brisk,
As if his lips were scissortips
Splitting his tongue
"We're still attached to each other."
"Yah Ed, we are."
I was a phone call away
II. Intravenous iv.
At the church
ice queenShe takes you by the hipsice queen2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
because she's too hungry
to appreciate the warmth
of your hands.
She transforms you with her fingers,
bending every edge till you're just her
ball, made of glass,
that she shakes once in a while.
She always preferred ice over sunshine.
And I can't stand the sight of her,
she chills me to the bone.
Because she has my whole world
in the palm of her hand
and I fear she might break it.
He is the kind of boy...With calloused fingersHe is the kind of boy...3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
this boy trails poetry
down the length of spines.
smell like lemon drops,
and taste of sweet poison.]
He carries a tattered
notebook in one hand,
and an ink pen
in the pocket
closest to his heart.
[The paper romantic
who warms lonely
His dreams are bigger
Too much for just one.
River SongSomeday, my dear, when frosty-folk are nearRiver Song3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I'll leave you here. You cannot come with me
Into the freezing winds, over the grounds
Where snow is all around, the icy glare
Of Sun a blight on all the sights that are
All frigid-gold and white, all beautiful
As you would find them too. But do not come
The walking will be cold, the way for you
Too lonely and too frightening, I fear
The end would be too bitter for your cup;
No berry-juice, a palish barely-red,
But dregs filled up with depths I cannot see.
Sometime, my dear, as dark is dancing near
I'll leave you here. The merry stars will be
Your sweetest friends, your heavenly escort,
A consort singing as you fall asleep,
And they will tarry here and be your joy
So do not follow methe way is faint
Too deep and often bleak, too drear for you
Who has the stars and moon. Oh, let your nights
Be beautiful and bright, and let your life
Trace clouds of blossom-pollen through the air
From flowers in your hair, like white declined
Can You Remember me?Can You Remember me?Can You Remember me?1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Facing you, I stand up against the cooling winds. We are here now and you just stare. So you are here with nothing to say? Can you see the barren skies and the ugly scars in this place, or is this something you came across before? I can’t ask for an answer, because I won't believe the words that comes from your abomination. Can you tell me who I am? Of course not, because you can’t remember who I am. You are a sifer, mindlessly traveling between the tragedies, and now you can’t say anything anymore. Are you better off dead? So we are here now, and I wish to say something to you. What was the sin that only you created? Was it something more beautiful in your eyes?
Trusting takes two, and that is something I can’t do anymore. I’m so sorry, but please take a look around, nothing is here. No longer can anything be born in this place, so why do you linger here? Hope has died and was buried long before you arrived here. I can give you an ans
Butterflies GraveI buried him in the Butterflies Grave,Butterflies Grave3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
On top thousand pairs of wings.
Dancing petals spilled above,
Specks of transparent eyes.
Lovely here the soft tasteless snow
The snowflakes dancing to the ground.
The shrouded moon glinting good.
Death hands in the air
And I pray that roses rise
Over your body.
I cannot cry cannot say sorry
Because I am not.
Demons are meant to kill.
Your blood spillt against
My midnight claws;
Your screams agonized
That bloody night.
And your love for me
Became your death.
SequoiaA soldier stands alone in a field,Sequoia4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
His feet firmly rooted to the ground.
He hears the birds fly far overhead,
Though he utters not a single sound.
He's fought many battles in this field,
A veteran of a thousand wars.
He stood strong 'gainst his enemies' knives
And sheltered the helpless from the storms.
He dueled the one who whispers sweetly,
Stood his ground against thunderous cries.
Still he plants his feet so deeply,
This soldier standing tall and ready,
Soaking in the rain so steady--
In endless quest for cloudless skies.
FearLike a snakeFear3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It constricts us
Until we can't think
Until we're trapped
With one thing on our mind
Is it possible?
Can we do it?
When we're lost in a world
Where no one understands
We become lost in darkness
Until slowly, very slowly
We form our thoughts
Into coherent sentences
We open our eyes
To gaze upon the other side
Past the dark
And into the light
We take a breath
Because we know
We can overcome
This thing called
the perfect night...the perfect night...4 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
i close my eyes
listening to my music
and when i open them again
you are there...
everything seems so perfect
the electricity is strong between us
you are dressed beautifully,
your hair flawless
your smile sweet and
we are holding hands
as we walk outside in the quiet
and the sun sets
fireflies light up the night
as the slight chill comes
i drape my coat over your shoulders
you blush slightly
and thank me quietly
i smile and cant resist any more
i stop walking
and you stop as well
and look back at me
with confused eyes
and simply adorable face
i lean in, eyes closed
and kiss you softly
our first kiss
this moment... so perfect
but when i lean back
and open my eyes
i am in my room
under my covers
looking up at my slowly moving fan
and i ask myself
'why...did i have to close my eyes then?'
'why...did the perfect night... have to stop?'
'why...couldn't i live in that dream forever?'