| Deviant Login | Shop | Join deviantART for FREE  |
Take the Tour  |
Like A QueenI am a fool of good heart,Like A Queen4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
a creature of ambient lighting
hovering over torn floorboards;
only few have known me before,
yet I go by so many names.
Neighbor outside my door,
no better than I,
no longer can I hear your
light step
filling my slumber,
making me think you've come back.
Innocent flowers and incense
repeat and repeat,
"was there a word I could borrow for
love?"
Instead, they left,
wordless in a world of moving
tongues and teeth.
But your garden always made me smile,
reminding me of you every once
in a while.
I'm dotting my I's with breaths
and other residues,
so I won't forget
the day that we met:
our feet
To Play the WorldNo phrases taste of the same air,To Play the World3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
No flavors matched across sea and land,
For that which only tongues declare
Do little to flames but fan.
And the poet's kindling, letter
And flair, burn quickly in comparison
To the spirit's sound, a better
Fuel to prepare peace upon.
So then to wholly unify, or
Merely rest, with all nations curled,
We poets cannot speak, for
It takes one note to play the world.
SuccinctYou'll be unforgotten,Succinct4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
you and every word you spoke,
whether an art of yours or mine,
and I'll paint portraits so succinct
of every way in which you blinked.
And to no end will these feelings travel,
but to no avail, as time unravels
in a concise
and perfect decline.
You'll be a burning flame,
a folded picture without a frame
hanging from undisclosed locations.
For no one can take away
every hour and every day,
nor will any feeling feel the same,
for now my love is in a picture's sway.
And to no wrinkle will my affection
give way,
for emotion is ageless and languid
in changing its subtle, delicate
language,
whether or not
Hypnagogic RhymeWe woke up and peeked in,Hypnagogic Rhyme3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on sleeping things
piecing together dreams with lips
that mouthed the vague shape
of hallucinogen crypts,
and we crept, as they slept,
keeping our steps
and breaths under lock and key -
outside we pressed flat feet to cold
cement, and pleaded
to the night that from shadows
sent us this flesh:
...death...
...left the interim, an unfair retreat...
...deflated beings wooed tragically
to defeat...
...spread into the beyond, awake or asleep somewhere in-between...
And we tied to each other precious letters,
old love stories to be our feathers,
to fly and finally be seen.
Act OneMorning blossomsAct One3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
slow, and strums thin
Autumn's cool drink;
fresh tears sink like
aged ink at rest
beneath blessed rays,
digesting new
thoughts of you for
Act Two. End scene.
Streams of White4 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry
More Like This
White SongStruggling plum blossom, neck bentWhite Song3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Under the cruel weight of the sun,
Bless each slight breeze that brushes
Your peevish cheek, movements which barely
Sway the branches of the trees, but dent
These walls within me; strong fingers spun,
Shuttled, and weaved between two touches
Of this instrument: these clumps of wheat-like
Weeds—pushing through cracks in the cement,
Uncertain stems and hairy leaves caught
In uncomfortable grace—these are me, blushes
Of glassy purple heads in the subtle wind.
I who was near your heart,
lose beauty in a dry voice...
a whistling choir whispering their flute,
white song for my weary a
Love Me BecauseDon't.Love Me Because4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I know you,
better than I'd like to, admittedly.
Don't
love me because
I love you.
Love me like my father loved,
the way my mother tried to.
Not to help,
nor to console;
like the weather, neither good nor bad,
just simply there.
Love me.
Because I know what it's like
when nothing has value or worth,
when Life is nothing more
than a reflection of itself,
when everything is mired in its complete
and inherent thingness.
Love me because
you don't need me.
Because logic isn't always right.
Love me, because
love doesn't exist,
and I've tried everything that does.
Lucid Beauty3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry
More Like This
Eager EyesEager eyes face upward,Eager Eyes4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
looking nowhere below.
Lay one false step before them
and they won't even know,
passing by right turns toward
many winding roads.
That boy with a cold
and that girl in the snow,
they're perfect for each other but they don't even know.
That singer with curls
and that girl at the show,
they're perfect for each other but they don't even know.
They might pass each other by
with their eyes hanging low.
Never to remember any faces,
walking along at many paces,
because they all have different places to go.
Angel's PerfumeMy muse knows not of sadness nor closure,Angel's Perfume3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In all earthly things is she unkempt.
By decomposing trees, trying to keep her composure,
She breathes sweetly, so many leaves to tempt.
Her sighs are re-echoed in tiny pieces,
Caught in-between corners they rarely went;
Beside the grass and plants, only air releases,
But souvenirs of her are eloquently rent.
She ebbs with every emotion and falls,
Goes naked like a princess to sleep,
But holds the moon beneath her walls
And dressed in light, makes not a peep.
I lose my shape in contemplation,
In her I find a want and need,
To reform my short and worn formation
And pour outward, yet not
Lost in Timetime.Lost in Time4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
where is its end?
how can soundless wails echo
through an infinite sea?
-it hints at different voices,
silence withering, more delicate
than creation
where it measures the menace
of distances long-forgotten.
where does it end?
-its insistent whine, a caress
calculating the future, oppressive
and lax in its imminent
curiosity.
no beginning, no end.
clamor and riot;
the primitive litter existence
with star-crossed illusions
of a world without time,
as the past picks up a voice,
wailing, unfailing
in its arrogant truth.
in our superficial permanence do we lose meaning,
restoring illumination to endless generations
QuandaryYour secrets keep me down here,Quandary5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
amidst the soot, up to my foot
in overjoyed resentments.
Your senses cannot see clear,
amidst the smoke, too much to choke
on undercooked contentments.
Before my eyes, you comprised a disguise,
and now I don't know where you've been.
Before I die, I'd like to see you try
to never say never ever again.
You used to be
so close to me,
you used to speak in quandary.
You used to shine
like a diamond mine,
in perfect lines of quandary.
Glorious sun under which I thrive,
I live for you, but I'm not alive.
Amidst the secrets, amidst the lies,
a mysterious enigma, conundrum, and surprise.
Hollow Grain of SandHollow Grain of Sand6 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
I felt the night brush tenderly beside me,
cradling light to find its way.
I felt the stars drift further, blindly
searching for a place to stay.
I heard the wind call my name,
asking to fix its shadowy frame.
Reservoir, shooting star,
break free from my stagnant mind
in a lifetime of seconds.
A limp cigarette, stale to the taste,
held delicately in place,
break free from these years
at a steady pace.
I felt I could fall, so I fell,
on these same streets
I've known day after day.
I knelt low, head hung in shame,
cradling light to find my way.
Sometimes my thoughts drift backward,
into the darkness of the past.
Sometimes th
InsignificantDragging stone-weighted dreams.Insignificant4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Perforated piece by piece
In ceaseless motions pulled from the seams
Grown stiff, awaiting release.
Perforated piece by piece,
The clouds do sift, but I've
Grown stiff, awaiting release,
Chasing the sun to stay alive.
The clouds do sift, but I've
Nothing more to give.
Chasing the sun to stay alive,
But what's allowing me to live?
Nothing more to give,
Trying to swim for the shore,
But what's allowing me to live?
What deems life worth living for?
Trying to swim for the shore,
The sky forms a heavenly nest.
What deems life worth living for?
I'm left, with no time to rest.
The sky forms a heave
Tall Girls With Short HairSuperstitious girl,Tall Girls With Short Hair4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
don't fall in love with him.
He has half a heart
and half a mind.
Superstitious boy,
don't fall in love on a whim.
Too tall, too skinny,
you can take your time.
I read a book about the perfect girl,
but the pages were old and torn.
He wanted tall girls with short hair
because the perfect girls aren't the ones who are born.
I read that the cutest girls are the ones
who think they're ugly,
and how the superstitious ones
are the best to kiss.
I read a book about the perfect guy,
and it turns out they're the ones
all the girls walk by.
Heart's SongSing me your heart's song,Heart's Song4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
each syllable spilling your
blood, your viscous and loving blood.
Sing me your heart's song
to tell me how love works
and where we got it wrong.
Reach out with bleeding emotion;
each thrilling spill, each
bloody reveal
cut deep from your
chest,
the world's smallest ocean.
Render words useless,
pierced by putrid fluids;
a fruitless, mad song spewing
from you,
as I weep for a meaningless scene
drawn from your heart's juices.
Sing me your heart's song
to tell me I'm not dreaming,
and I'll song along
with my own blood streaming;
our faces grown pale, our struggles to no avail,
all to see where we
A Person Amongst PeopleThere's no ocean I can drown my sorrows in,A Person Amongst People4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
there are too many of them to fit underneath;
they're the fish of my life's aquarium,
underwater is where they breathe,
but I can hide them
and subside them
until there's nothing left but me.
Amongst blind mice, I'm an eyeless rat.
I shake hands with my fist
and break bread with a bat.
Talking like this
and talking like that;
sitting down where I stood,
standing up where I sat.
I'm an acrobat sitting in a chair.
A doormat for the clouds
adrift in the air.
A hat made of hope that no one would wear;
getting by, by myself,
too careless to care.
Remember MeIn ripples, I'll nip at youRemember Me3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
until your lips speak my name,
weakly kneeling underneath
your tongue,
waiting to be spoken again.
And a belief, like a leaf
dripping with the morning rain,
holds less than a dam,
though tries hard just the same.
In a picture, I'm with you,
but you won't cry for me now.
Biting back more pain than
your heart can allow.
A memory stems
from waterfalls run dry,
dripping love's dust
upon flooded streets,
a million stories down.
A long time ago, in a long-lost summer,
when we scaled the winding wall of wonder,
there was a pinch of rain and a dash of thunder,
but we smiled until it passed.
Now you ca
Then Clouds Came3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry
More Like This
What Bismuth Taught Meinvalid, delete, radius of raven's feet leave inchmarks,What Bismuth Taught Me7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the street is pallid swale yellow, tooth and nail blues
that bismuth taught me, return path for the devil feed
from blind dwelling and family, this means of filial coding,
ineffectual fragment distinct enough to recall by rote,
cellophane cello plays its first notes,
my favorite part of the movie
invasive, entreat, making incense a choreogaphy,
dead to detestable meat, belief is an infirmary,
no calculable approach to revise the unknown,
where mortal imagination frames every statement,
maudlin misappropriation, head over senses,
picket fences jail the scenery's simplicity,
Call Me LaterTonight, the sky is my bed.Call Me Later4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I won't sleep but I'll be overhead.
Up here, my peace
is held by a piece of thread.
Out here, on the frontier
of words unheard and words unsaid.
Up here, my name is
Right Now,
but you can call me Later.
You saw me here,
but I don't see how,
in a crowded elevator.
Up where the moon hangs loose,
like an evening recluse,
wearing the stars for a nightgown.
Up where the stars made a truce,
they see no practical use
in having to turn their lights down.
Out here, the past doesn't lie.
Up here, where wayward daydreams die.
Let's Raise OurselvesYou, a tall parenthesis,Let's Raise Ourselves3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
curl softly around him,
a fading exclamation point
stretched long on a forgiving bed;
he recedes into white
like ink on dampened paper,
coming apart on the page,
leaving only memory
to tell the story.
And waking up is better by yourself some days,
some days
maybe better with someone else,
but lessons arise via sunshine
that expose the self.
And days last longer when all you do is dwell.
Quite early in the day
your inspiration comes in the form of an older man
reaching out his hand,
there is a map of rivers etched into his large palm,
beads of blue water drip from his fingertips
into your mouth
and he says
Sta.sh
