Rusty CageDon't perch me upon a cotton cloudRusty Cage2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Or quarter me by the country lake;
No fields of grain inspire me now,
Nor misty hues above the creek.
I have seen too many daffodils
And belle bluebells too pall my soul,
These mockingjays do not arouse
A drop of woe, a drip of joy.
Instead set me off upon a barge
Where the shadows meet, by day or night;
Off to a shade where silence unites
With her soundless charms of quietude.
And leave my haunt with little tint
A monochrome wind, a fickle farewell,
And write to me once every fortnight
From the confines of your recent grave.
And here let there be no robin's song,
No blackbird's lay, no warbler's hymn,
Leave me be in my rusty cage:
The throne of human creation.
500 points giveaway!Hello!500 points giveaway!3 years ago in Personal More Like This
How are you?
I'll give away 500 points to 5 random people.
All you have to do to enter the contest is favourite this journal, and the winners will be decided randomly from the list of favourites.
Every winner will get 100 points.
Click fav and wait until 21. March 2012.
You may win 100 points...maybe not...it's worth a shot!!
dedicationi always knew you understood me by intuitiondedication3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you could read my features
but you died too soon. (what is death?)
words too soon forsaken
i don't find serenity in the haunting images
the twisting wooden textures; they have eyes like yours
the reluctant acceptances and arbitrary denials
resting in the engravings of your name carved in my skin
nothing ever escapes until suicide.
you'll never feel, you can't see
i'm sorry you failed to be my only other constant
please stop analyzing those
damned stars and paper clouds
you'll never find another stable
the same anorexic permanent ink
in another wrenching scheme you call a structured system
i don't need your closed fearful eyes
they're burning me down again
when i close my eyes
i'm never with you.
all i see is a color i don't recognize
blazing inching crawling
spelling out your presence
their muffled whispers scream silently
"you can never see red."
it's a different kind of religion
a decadent reincarnat