There is Always TimeI want you to be my Judas,There is Always Time2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my plague; my hollow wind.
I want your subtle madness
inked upon roads; dragged upon skin.
I want such haunted beauty,
it aspires; it transcends,
the forms we lay in open ground,
shallow graves; plots of men.
I want such bloody love,
such devastation; such devotion,
to never regret the cogs we turned in life,
that we designed; we set in motion.
Finally, I want a tortured soul,
to repair; to piece together,
to tread upon a lake of fire that never quells;
that flows and burns
Sour CrayonsMy hands are tree-minded twigsSour Crayons3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
twiddling wooden thumbs; pencil-
fingers scratching pulpy paper;
pushing letters single-file into
I am revisiting recurring childhood
dreams; thoughts of stone tumbling
themselves shiny and sleek; oils of
voices, tranquil and frictionless,
reflecting rainbows when mixed with
the water of conversation; rivers of
synergy flooding behind dams.
Now I live with disconnection and
disassociation, dripping into every
relationship, dull or sharp; cutting
vocal cords to make room for audio
wires carefully wrapped in swirling
I taste memories of sour crayons,
their colors defining their savory
sting. Chew on this stubble; strewn
about, leaving a small trace of
visions of a time long before now;
living tales of ancestry, linking
steps in a spiraling ladder
defining each individual.
And now, with the exception of
purpose, and the denial of the sun,
we make our farewells.
The story of a white roseMy little white rose, what's your story?The story of a white rose3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your flaws and your wonders and glory.
Lay here before me, my little white gift
with petals both gracious and swift
Your perfectly molded and creamlike white leaves
more stunning than anyone's wildest believes
Some of them fell at my touch; so to say
they withered and died, gotten brown of decay
The rest had surprised me by still holding on
though beaten and broken they hadn't withdrawn
So tell me your story, the tales of the rose
in order for me to perceive how you froze
The reddish pink spots on the innocent white
is it blood that I see, a proof of your fight?
I dare not to ask for too much in one time
afraid of the truth both sad and sublime
Some petals however, curled up in your core
have escaped the havoc of this unfortunate war
I'll unfold them for you, and I'll build up the trust
just have faith in me dear, while I sweep up the dust
You'll shine as no other and wear it with pride
the past as it was, without reasons to hide
Don't ever regr
HysteriaMoon sliver arms raisedHysteria2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to the eventide sky,
hysteria dripping like wine
like a prayer, slipping —
hallowed lips no longer, and
the weight of every loss
and ticking clocks
cracking dappled ground.
Her BeautyHe bled out by the water's edgeHer Beauty3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
gasping out and crying
He bled out by the water's edge
suffering and dying
The sea was a cruel tempest
never known to be fair
And now he plays her game
as he gasps out for air
Her rocky shores just as harsh
and shattered up his spine
Its probably for the best
for now he feels just fine
Numb and cold, he weeps in silence
begging for release
Numb and cold, he feels no more
just wants to go to sleep
So cruel, the sea
to mock a man like him
Such a fool, the man
to think he could conquer
The Dying SonAll the day long,The Dying Son4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The sun lies in the sky,
It sheds its glorious light o'er all
Giving life to all that look on't
As it reaches the end of its life
It shines its most glorious and brilliant
Then it slowly fades,
Disfigured by the mountain.
Yet as it dies,
Soft ribbons of color
Ignored by so much of the world
Streak across the sky
There are those that see it
And shield their eyes,
Complaining that it is too bright.
They wish it a quick death.
As its blood flows freely across the sky,
The sensitive ones take note
And give thanks to God
For its dying sacrifice.
Its life is almost gone.
The light has dimmed.
Those that accepted its light
Mourn the terrible loss.
Its accusers can look on't now
And not see the great glory that remains.
They are relieved and worry no more
About what its luster might have done.
It is gone now,
But a fire still burns
To tell the story
Of the magnificent sun.
At last the last ray fades.
It is done.
The sun, giver of life,
Ends its own for the sake of
A Byron AdviceFaireth the morn, till the sunlit ember shineA Byron Advice2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And watcheth the pearl effervescence of the moonshine
Hark, and hear the cry of larks, the sound of waves
As you watch the shores of life pass by
Shineth the whiteness, as the poet is invited
The phoenix, omnipresent, solemn as cited
Fair be the man, a shine of diamond, in stark
contrast the vastness, a vestige of the Ark
Guideth both, but nigh, fair maiden,
For you must venture forth, and bid thine shade and
farewell. For what is ambivalence, when he who is above
Knoweth that our punishment... is our love...
Faireth thine journey well, both of ye...
And press forth forward, with warmth and glee
For there is not a moment's notice, before the shores of the sea
Alas, set aft, and are as damned as life can be...
the end, actuallylassitude buildsthe end, actually2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
nests in my bones
as effective at becoming airborne
as the words "i'm sorry"
they just refused to try
the most prominent thought
circling my head
like the words that could soar
there is a big chance
we will not make it through the night,
that i will never be held
in the cage of your eyes
and trapped by a heart
i must be committing
but i do not know which ones-
there just might be
on the number of tears
you can shed
over one person;
we are not snakes
and cannot remove our skin
so we cry instead
but through the heat
i felt that sadness made
over the phone
i saw no end to us
where there would be
no end to us.
RetreatI have abandoned battle, savored peaceRetreat3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and lost my weapons deep in sacred ground.
I have sought sweet mercy - God's own release
and prayed for his swift justice to abound.
I have walked past the soldiers in the street
and heard their cries run shameless without sound -
the tired, shuffling resonance of feet.
And in the morning's chilled and angry blast,
I recognize the music of retreat
as if I saw the ghosts that knew my past
gathering at the tables for a feast.
Then God allow these thoughts to be my last
for I have hopes my blessings will increase
and the dark symphony of war will cease.
The Surreal SeasonArbitrary screams, have washed away in blissThe Surreal Season2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The forever unspoken words, turned into kiss'
From the uncertain lips of deceit
A chilling breeze from the exiled mist
The fiery summer has gone ashtray
Radiant winter is along its way.