The NegativesThe negatives rolled out like a dark water wake at the magic hours.
Burned with the past reflecting.
The mental film always playing back all of our sweet encounters.
On the wall, projecting.
And tired eyes look up at the smiles and your lovely shape.
All Together, perfecting.
This dark place only shines of all the memories and pain.
Here we are, ending.
Slaving away in a room, piecing it frame by frame.
The color of your hair, and how it always changed.
The whispers in my ear, and the listless games.
Then you would disappear in the curtain's flames.
The times you cared, and the times you stayed.
The loving stares, and then you walked away.
When I was child, swimming in Superman's cape.
The curses on your tongue, and how I chased.
Rewinding the pictures all back, but soon they may break.
And gone forever.
Don't let them hit the light or they'll be exposed as inane.
And you won't remember.
The moving photos cast their colors, flaring around me.
I can take no more.
Further it goes in the
I Never Stole a Traffic ConeThere has always been a silver lining.I Never Stole a Traffic Cone3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But if you melt it down
Shape it into a bullet,
It will still kill a werewolf.
Not all dogs chase cars.
Weeds don't know they are killing the Petunias
Even monsters die
The only difference is that they don't get flowers and nobody wants what they leave behind.
Things could be a lot worse.
Eight black balloons
The last Raven feather
A gray hair floating in your tomato bisque.
Knowing that blood tastes like dimes.
I still believe that there is good left in our world.
Orange things make me laugh.
I knew a girl who thought that ghosts only
haunted mansions in
proserpineEros pierced Death's barbaric harmony;proserpine3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Spawned by the arrow, untamed desire;
Earth's sole daughter, impossibility;
Set steel ablaze, stone soul lit afire.
Spring's innocence marred by rotting corpses;
By Charon's crimson pomegranate, trapt;
Chariot of Apocalypse horses;
Queen of the Dead, no one heard as she wept.
Entranced by fragile flora, narcissus;
Nightmarish skeleton grins raffishly;
Impoverished earth, angry grief tremendous;
Incarnadine tears, thieved felicity.
Lavished in jewels, reluctant tsäress;
Spirited away in winter's caress.
I Belong to The HurricaneI belong to the hurricane I Belong to The Hurricane3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the screaming, untamed maelstrom that cleaves away puppet strings
and sharpens its teeth on misconceptions.
I belong to the harsh cold winter of an aching truth
one that beats a drum like a heartbeat under the graveyards,
whispering things that our ancestors knew (but we have forgotten).
I belong to the hurricane
yeah, that's the one the same storm that broke my back and scratched at my eyes.
It flayed open my chest and showed me my own diamond bones.
I belong to angels with battle-torn wings and voices raw from howling!
I belong to war
and to the air that sings a dirge for your dying freedoms.
I belong to the stark white walls of an empty room,
in the form of dangerous thoughts breathing in your ear.
I belong to rebellion.
So here, my friend, is to the bullet casings on your floor,
And bandages made of blankets you once slept soundly under,
And heartlines worn deep in the palms of your hands.
AmaranthineThe ache of youthAmaranthine3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And seasoned untruth
Like corsairs flee
To the surging sea
Every last treasure
And mundane pleasure
Like rivers will be
One with the sea
But wisdom at hand
Like grains of sand
Will return to me
Braving the sea
For all a man learns
And in toil he earns
He plants in a tree
That endures the sea.
jungles and rosemaryyou hold her in the callousesjungles and rosemary3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of your word-hungry palms and in spite
of your stoic's best-held beliefs,
you feel her spirit unfold like
a rose, like sprigs of frostbitten lavender,
shy-curling tea leaves and fresh sheets for
dry beds as february leans into
march for pardon
and she takes him up
between coarse wings,
teaching him when to beat them &
when to soar as a world's
trepidations trip and twirl across
valleys of body-hollows,
summer-seas of lost wildflower
children run rampant, kindling
screams to be knit into soft-clotted
loose-strung warmth, fury dissolved
into wave-splattered scrolls, love compressed
tight into wax for chattering teeth and the
twist-twitching, surge-leaping flames in the eyes
they bring sparkling in from the cold, like they're
friendship rings around star-smitten rosies,
at autumn's quaintest carnivals of doubt
and the hazel jungles they swung
breaths of life into there,
wherein they hid
If Nothing's What You Give...Aloof and arrogantIf Nothing's What You Give...4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He moves amid the crowd
Tight-lipped, unfeeling and cold
He cares for none of it
He sets himself apart
From all the others
But that's not it at all
He doesn't like some of the things
He sees but others he loves
And he doesn't really know
What to say how to act and so
He draws it all into himself
Bottles all of it up between tight lips
Swathes his feelings in a cloak of cold
And inside he feels withered and old.
But he wishes
He wishes you all could see
Through his mantle so icy
Into his burning pulsing heart
But with fear he is torn apart.
No one's a mind-reader
No soul's a book
No person sees so deep
Just with a superficial look.
You get what you give
And you've given nothing yet
So if nothing's what you give
Then nothing's what you get.