What becomes of a silent dream,
When the speaker no longer sees a thing,
Show me a world of wonder where eyes are aflame.
Who dares lose a voice,
To even their own doubt,
As the clock winds down for all,
Each word is chocked out,
Of bored and tired throats,
Or pained fingers that say nothing at all.
A million times,
One must question the world,
If they dream to be heard at all.
Some will live forever,
As their dreams march on,
Be it in infamy or other arcs.
A young child will scream,
Outwards to the heavens and Lord on high,
A dream and will that will change temper in the age.
Not all goals,
Are ones measured,
In the glitter of gold.
Give me your heart,
Once my words do earn,
Mastery of emotion and pen.
For as said before,
I dream to understand Man,
And empower happiness because I can.
Thus all twitches of loss,
When the pen goes mute,
Are brought deep into thought.
To ponder each stance,
And better learn self,
From wounds and from cocoons.
Dream and Dream,
One can do so without action
Say you love "Truth of legacy"Say you love "Truth of legacy"4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Say you love,
With a heart full of compassion,
And eyes as kind and sweet as snow's delight.
Know your desire,
As well as you know yourself,
For both of you are human beings.
Interlocked are hearts,
Reaching out for companions,
Souls alike in heart and will to dance with.
Though feeling may desire change,
No such thing will simply happen by a wish,
And the tears will sear the flesh burning red sunder.
This is the penalty of choice,
That not all hearts may align so completely,
Causing the hymn of suffering with pinning after desire.
Say you stand and do so,
Blast away the dark and pain,
Show your might to this reality's light.
The might is your choice,
Your choice transform into destiny,
And destiny carves into the light that changes lives.
Like a ripple throughout time,
The hearts intertwined began to change and grow,
As the time winds down and the paths becomes clear from the starting road.
Scream your love and your light,
The hearts that you heal and you wound,
Tied together through
Nameless goodbye 'choices'Nameless goodbye 'choices'4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Choices decide so much,
Yet beauty exists even in woes,
Though we must avoid the shrouded thorn.
Friend of mine,
May your pen strike true,
And be filled with majesty evermore.
Dance on with joy,
And sing your hymn as you feel,
Never letting the setting sun cause despair.
Choices we decide,
Bring us to conflicts we rather avoid,
Because we do not understand the truth behind hints.
Yet the road is always paved,
In stones of different shades to say,
That the way is not a single road but many.
May your pen strike true,
And show whatever beauty you desire,
With hues of golden blue and shining silver.
With your life in full speed,
And perhaps at the end we'll swap stories.
Of our dreams,
Of our adventures,
And the roads choices take.
To this end,
I wish you the greatest of luck,
And I hope you never see sorrow.
And a million hellos.
May your pen strike true,
My dear dear friend as you choose,
What majesty to grace our eyes with.
create with meWith my words,create with me4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I could give to you.
A tragedy like no other.
Yet within my power,
I want you to be lifted higher,
And feel as if this world was made for you.
Though some may say,
That it is but folly in dreams,
This is my decree in every word.
As the roses form,
And the water fall splashes,
The wind carries my voice to you.
As with ever passing heart beat,
One can create both sorrow and joy,
Though the choice is not so well known.
Each whisper empowers,
As drawings of roses brings joy,
But will you create something with me?
Though I can create untold joy,
We both exist in this timely scene,
And though I asked it before I'd like to dance.
For with every action,
The cost is time and goes with woe,
Yet the return can never be something so meaningless.
So can I request,
Time from your heart and soul,
To create something of equal joy and woe?
The choice is forever yours,
To weave tragedy or harmony into life,
Be it in any form this life chooses to give.
So will you weave this choice,
If I saidIf I said4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
If I said,
That no matter what I make,
It does not shine in its own wake.
Would you care,
To explain what beauty is,
And how I can make it no longer his?
If I said,
That all these words,
Are losing their meaning and becoming birds
Would you care,
To try and change my mind,
And make me have something to find?
If I said,
There is no beauty that I create,
And that these words are nothing but weak debates.
Would you care,
And try to make me see the light,
Locked in my own world hidden by the night?
If I said,
I wanted to create true beauty,
Would you care and explain how its done truly?
If I said,
Nothing at all,
Would you care?
Nameless guardian...Nameless guardian...4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Nameless guardian of man,
Are you the one we deny in many forms,
Are you the living choice of compassion and love?
A choice born,
Out of need to survive,
And to restore a balance we destroyed.
Nameless guardian whom watches,
Explain not to me but to all of us here,
Why the choice of compassion exists at all.
For though many may claim,
In noble nature and finer upbringing,
The flag of forgiveness is rare and ragged.
A choice of compassion is not,
Something that transfixes and makes dramatics,
Yet resides with the loudest of the crashing waves.
It is the whisper,
It is the phone calls at three am,
And the shoulders to cry on in times of need.
Speaking out for another,
Though dismay may follow for such an act,
And sticking up with that choice time and time again.
The simplest of kindness,
Tend to transform with the splash of the water,
The wave echoing and eclipsing any sorrow that may come.
Nameless guardian that is the active choice,
Did you know all of this when I made my own,
Take an artTake an art4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Take a brush,
And show me the meaning,
Of the boundaries locked within lined form.
Panels of pages,
Switching out with vibrant colors,
With strokes of golden hues to enhance.
Show me the meaning,
Of notes disconnected and unaligned,
Forming into a brand new hymn never before sang.
With time signatures unlocked,
And treble cleft to start the measure,
Before you go onward with basses deeper calling.
Aiming angles of living vision,
With a flash of camera's lens sight,
Depth is added to the physical left in memory.
Etching moments in time,
Be it of places, things, or people,
As deaths hands lose right to corrode the visage of the world.
Adding string to sound waves,
With endless boundaries of the styles change,
Swirling like the passing notes of the harp's cords.
Saxophone and phone and trumpet sound,
The brass and woodwind add their power to lost melody,
With the drums beating slowly in time to the four four measure.
Calling out with creation,
To the wonderlands of imagination,
Paper wings fly freePaper wings fly free3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A young man,
Sat alone in a box,
Made of his own doubts and fears.
Each day he threw,
A paper plane outside,
Watching as the wind took it home.
The planes were,
Really letters he wrote,
To any voice that would listen.
One day a reply was sent,
In the same way his letters took flight,
And the message was by a young lass name Rem.
More letters took flight,
As back and forth the two spoke,
With wings formed from oak's bark.
Soon another girl,
Also added her letters,
To the flights sea of flow.
Her name was Ren,
And her friend Mary joined,
Each day the three sent the young man news.
How the city was,
How the sky was such a bright blue,
And how the water that rested by the city port looked so new.
One day as he threw the letter,
His step was one to far and with a slip,
The young man collided with the edge of his seal.
The wall did not kill,
The wall did not hurt,
The wall did not maim.
Instead the man's hands,
Met the greener grass's warmth,
And standing before him were three girls he did n
Little RedWith just my hat,Little Red4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
And a wave of my wand,
All your hopes I may hold.
So tell me,
Pretty little lass,
With hair of summer gold.
May I grant you a wish,
With whimsy and a lack of woe,
For just a single cookie from your basket?
With a coat of red,
And a heart of gold what wish do you decree?
Just break the cookie over my hat,
And really loud give a clap right after that,
So I know you're ready and my wand will wave.
And as if matter of fact,
You'll awake back with a snap,
And the world will be your desired dream.
So what do you say to that?
The vampireMy fangs dig in,The vampire4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Skin pierced by teeth of ivory,
As the scarlet pours down from you into me.
Relax my pet,
Less the pain grow more intense,
Feel it slip from your mind as you decline.
Memories begin to flood me,
As the Rosen drops enter me,
Like phantom kisses brushing the mind.
Your every sin and crime,
Is left bare to play in my memory,
Connecting you forever to me as all truth is learned.
Relax my pet,
Less the pain return,
Stronger than his blade to you.
My lips push away,
For should I take my fill,
Than your heart would beat no more.
A kiss to your hand,
And a thought of sweet goodnight,
The sight of darkness closes around you.
You shall forget,
As you are fated to,
But an invitation awaits.
Should your world,
Ever grow as the night sky,
And there be no one by your side.
A single rose
With my name etched in the thorns,
Shall be your calling card into the night.
Tower of stoneTower of stone4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Two angels sit,
In a tower of stone,
Tears parting their eyes.
The one with black wings,
Weeps to the blood on her hands,
Repeating names as fast as a storm.
Wings of white,
Holds half a beating heart,
Begging forgiveness for division.
Both repeat their cries,
In endless songs of woe,
To undo all the seeds of sorrow sown.
The heart is stained black,
As two haves beat as one,
And the tears stained those faces.
Two angels sit,
In a tower of stone.
Paints come alivePaints come alive4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Paints of green and gold,
Slide down a canvas of white,
With snow grays shaping mountains.
Grass dances to life,
And ray of light join them,
The white canvas grows shades.
By the brown barken tree,
And pink blossoms fall from its branch.
The gold grows old and dries,
Yet tints of red are mixed and arise,
A sun bright than any orange glow can hold.
Sun rise gives life to the plain,
And sleeping under the tree so peacefully,
Is but a single hound with fur of shining silver light.
Deep asleep in the summer glow,
His pelt glows an old ethereal code,
As the paints dry and the scene becomes set in stone.
Something to hungerTake a step closer,Something to hunger4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
And meet me in the end,
With words that are meaningless.
You can define,
Everything with silver,
Glasses that blind the sun and moon.
Yet in this dance,
Your book is as useless,
As my own, and both are ashes.
For something beyond the known,
And I hunger for beauty to truly from.
The dance grows hotter,
As flesh touches and burns,
Skin turned to painful red, blisters bubble.
The beauty does not matter,
As the form is but a mouth piece,
For the marvel hidden under the shore.
That bring me and everyone,
To weeping eyes and shaking knees.
Something that I,
Cannot hold or restrain,
That simply exists on its own.
That to put it in words,
Breaks the justice of the form.
Holding out for truth in the lie,
As skins collide and burns increase,
Blisters bubbling from contact of raw power.
Take that step closer,
Till we meet in the end,
And weep not from sorrow, but from beauty.
The AbyssWe could stare,The Abyss4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Into the abyss forever,
Or we could simply walk away.
Take a step,
And tell me absolutely nothing,
Because these words need to come from me.
After all humanity,
Dances the edge of the mind,
But this isn't about all of mankind.
This is about us,
And how the rain sings a song,
As hatred spreads from those lightning bolts.
After all rage is like a storm,
Or is it sorrow or some other overused emotion,
Just to say we feel denied our basic rights to feel and live.
If we stepped away,
It'd be fleeing yet again,
But this abyss will devour both you and me.
We could beg until we turn blue,
But I want something more than fear,
I want that melody of reality seen in me to be free.
This lost melody,
Of strength I cannot comprehend,
As I've stared far too long into the void.
And the mood fluxes like the sea,
From power so mighty and divinely grand,
To a low that shakes cities and destroys lives.
You who stands beside me,
Please I request that you depart,
Before this void lays claim t
Wind's demandSwirling winds shout out,Wind's demand4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Names that to few have meaning,
But to you and I manifest as blades of ice,
Swirling in command,
Twisting in the summer sun,
The wind howls out for demands none can hear.
The statis is insanity,
The world is ever changing,
And the bird knows this as it moves.
The wind calls out to us,
Digging in our flesh claws made of ice,
The mist taking form and wrapping us up.
Stealing a soul,
By a sweet kiss of the raven,
And the mistrels of the songtress.
Sword dancers nightDraw your blades,Sword dancers night4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
With armor worn of garnet and steel,
And dance with me on this starless eve.
A smile crosses lips,
As the metal reflects the city lights,
And the crowds gather closer expecting something to die.
Dance with me,
Your steel close to mine,
As we hear heart beats grow into one.
Arms interlock and snake,
Bodies twisted and weapons in hand still deadly,
The reaper watches from on high waiting for greatest mistake.
Hand in hand,
Blade to Blade aligned,
Ready to take the big dive.
Blades tossed high,
Steel clashes with streets of dime,
And dances left without ever saying goodbye.
Sword missing and forgotten,
Show me steel not made in forge.
And dance the night away with me.
Seven days and Seven truthsSeven days and Seven truths3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
One kiss for you,
As the the sun sets,
And the water starts to cool.
Two eyes lay on your flesh,
Scanning the beauty with a grin,
And staring into eyes that the goddess gifted to you.
Three hours no one will come,
By this cove and we are all alone,
In that time my every motion will paint my love.
Four more life times,
I wish to spend with you,
Till the final rebirth in summer land.
Five rings of emerald,
Grace your sweet fingers,
As stones of mother earth that I found for you.
Six ruby red marks,
Show to you my devotion,
As I let you lay absolute claim.
Seven days they say,
Was needed to make the world,
And seven million more I will hunger for you.
He is IHe is I4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Resting in the shadow,
Is a man without a face that is know,
And in his grasp is the dream I most cherish.
My pen gives him form,
As the mask on his face covered,
The eyes that I so desire to see and make weep.
Yet the armor,
That rests on his shoulders,
Brings such oddities to my mind.
The darkness and the light,
Reflected in the mix match of his clothes,
As tightly he holds the artifact that I most hunger.
Once more my words dance around,
The shadowed man's form as he laughs,
And sings the songs that I present to the wind.
Tighter his grip grows,
On the one thing that I hold,
To be the dearest of treasures.
Deeply his gloved hand,
Holds the hearts of those,
Who precise me with their own eyes.
His mask covered his eyes,
Yet I know as the paper in the wind,
Tells me that without a doubt I know him.
He is I,
And I am He,
And in the end he and I are WE.
Voices speakVoices speak4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Why create, a voice says to another,
Why breathe at all the other replies,
To survive, they say in unison.
Why strive says the voice,
When all hope is doomed to die,
Is that the melancholy of existence questioned the other.
Should we dance,
Both voices dare to question,
And if so what steps must we take?
Will the slow win the race,
In steady and haunting gait,
Or will speedy shallow steps overtake?
Both voices raged in defiance,
The speed is fast one called out,
Nay the speed must be slow the other replied.
Yet a third voice spoke,
Why exist at all this voice questioned,
If we can only stand in constant battle?
Luna and ArtemisLuna and Artemis3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Luna and Artemis,
Spoke under the moonlight,
While sitting in a forest glade.
What is wrong,
Luna dared to take,
An answer from the queen of hunters.
Artemis sighs and answered,
You see the hunter misses beauty,
And though many breeds are powerful I don't want to be forgotten.
Why would you my dear?
Luna questioned softly of the other,
The lioness is the hunter and her legs are as swift as your bow,
While true most will think,
Of the male lion and the truth of his might,
Artemis sighed once again at the truth she could not ignore.
Luna reached up,
And cupped her hands,
Till the beauty of the silver light flowed like water.
Here this gift I give to you,
Do with it what you will and,
Know that any born of this will be tied to you.
A month passes from the meet,
And the woods are filled with new sounds,
As creatures of silver and born howl to Luna.
Though their fangs are sharp,
They only give praise to the mother,
When the hunt is grand and the night is bright.
Yet the huntress never compl
Little PuppyLittle Puppy3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Little Pup is all alone,
Wagging his tail every time he sees,
His lovely master as she comes home.
But the day goes on,
And the work comes and goes,
With the cute little puppy whining.
The door locks,
And the doggy is stuck,
In an odd shaped box till master comes home.
Little Pup all alone tonight,
No one to come and say hello,
And no one to pet or play fetch with.
Six 'o'clock rolls around,
And the door doesn't shake,
No master home yet by the sun's last light.
Eight rolls around,
And the yellow moon comes up,
Little puppy whine and barks at the door.
Little Pup all alone tonight,
Midnight rolls around and the pup whines,
Not knowing Mistress just scored a man tonight.
Two Am rolls around,
And Mistress comes home,
With Little Pup sleeping all alone.
Dance with me darklyDance with me darkly4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Dance with me,
And sing your decree,
With a voice as powerful as it can be.
Each word will form,
The next fold of silken band,
That enwraps around my hands.
With a grin we'll paint the red,
With scarlet from the arms and claws,
Though the claim is made no master is desired.
I know you expected an easy,
But still you gotta dance with me and I'm,
In the mood to raise hell with you as the gateway.
So sing your voice so mighty,
And call out to our dark reality,
As in reverse I lay claim onto you with bands of crimson.
I'll dance with you,
And sing my decree,
With a voice that ends today.
A wish I give to youA wish I will give to you,A wish I give to you4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Wrapped in bows of silver and gold,
In a form that you can love, cherish and hold.
A wish I will grant you,
With smiles that bloom like wild flowers,
And even the darkest of days cannot stand to its power.
A wish I will present you,
As time flies by in silver stones,
Swirling coves and ancient odes retold.
A wish I will forfeit,
So that you may have the world,
With all of life in a hand unfurled.
A wish I give to you,
In exchange for a year of my own,
So that you may find the brightest home.
Duelist's bladesDuelist's blades4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Hands are filled,
Rapier is the weapon.
The foe is blinded,
Yet no trait is seen,
Both blades meet before the bow.
Ten steps back,
And the sound of a bullet shouts,
Duelist charge forward in practiced steps.
Bells cannot hamper,
The sounds that echo,
As steel dances and glances its brother's brow.
The feet dance on polished stone,
Sparks mingling in the air from every clash,
Full force thrown into the swing to shout out command
The choired voices,
Of the steel sing the hymn,
Of combat as each strike out.
Again and again,
The blades meet as master remains,
Arms unscratched and torso unwounded.
Yet neither backs down,
Hands grow sloppy and blocks miss,
Cuts form yet are ignored as the floor is stained.
The feet still glide,
Not slipping as slickness is added,
And the relentless strikes are more empowered.
In a final swing,
Parrnell in striking form,
Both duelist steel swords swing upward.
Blood and goo fly outward,
The blindfolds removed forevermore,
Yet sight is robbed b