The TurnThe TurnThe Turn2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
By Mongoose Van Dunkelschreiber
I'm waiting for the turn.
When glistening greens become radiant reds,
Or perhaps oriental oranges, and yummy yellows,
When the world becomes a painting to sit and enjoy.
I long to hear the crunching under my feet.
How I yearn to breathe not a drop of water with my fresh air.
Oh I love to walk and feel the breeze bathe my face.
How soothing, that sound of rain tattering amongst the rainbow leaves,
How refreshing it is to sit on my porch, and feel the moistened gusts.
It makes me want to run out and splash in the puddles,
And dance like star girl, my cloths now drenched in mud.
Yes I'm waiting for the turn,
For me summer is over and done.
Ophelia DreamsOphelia Dreams3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Thus we came to rebehold the stars
And the other globes of the celestial skies,
Lady Luna with her blunted horns renewed-
The darkness haunting us left somewhere behind.
Or maybe not quite, so the Heavens do taunt-
While the Sisters Fate laugh as the devils cry;
And the mechanics of the world turn counter clockwise,
They pushed on by the mortals who plot God's demise
But you, my dear Ophelia, what do you see?
Do you envision your ghosts with those sightless eyes?
Or do you see anger, bitter desperation, hate?
The river as my arms that you refused to take?
My faithless lover, to the world a queen
A queen that it lost, like the others it had seen-
And your lips (now cold), how many lies did they speak?
Your hands (now damp), how many others did they seek?
None, and that's why you're a treacherous fool:
You denied yourself yours and now you're so cold
And dead, my Persephone, forever running away-
Like all women, our world's primary cause of pain;
After The FallAfter The FallAfter The Fall2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
By Mongoose Van Dunkelschreiber
Can a man love a song the same way he could love a woman?
Can he feel her sweet verse in every fiber of his being?
Can he dance with her and embrace her beautiful form?
Can his lips be touched by her blissful kiss?
I have fallen for a song,
Her beauty I cannot expunge from my thoughts,
I dream of her touch.
No more like I need it.
She has become a drug for me.
She soothes my heart and lifts my spirit.
The sensation of her embrace excites me.
Oh I wonder what happens after the fall,
Can there truly be a greater happiness?
break routineRoutine has become too comfortable for comfort.break routine2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My feet wear the same tracks into the dirt,
kicking up the same dust every day
but the worst part is that the dust cloud blinds me to other, newer paths.
The most appealing option is to run
c'est l'option la plus dangereuse,
but that's its allure.
My whole being screams for something different,
something borderline uncomfortable,
like the feeling of too much space I get from places with no trees,
but I limit myself.
My brain won't stretch to envelop the possibilities
that float just out of its reach
like it used to.
I'd like to blame it on public school, and I somewhat can, I think-
but in the end, I have control over what I do with my brain
and I didn't stretch it.
I am a brain neglecter,
a fear collector,
a cage erector
who locks herself in
then complains about her captivity.
I used to think I was special,
that right now didn't matter,
that ONE DAY I'd be something, do something speci