RestlessHaunting voices torment my sleep.Restless1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Growing pressures pull me to the dark so deep.
Heavy weights upon my chest.
Losing will, I cannot rest.
Nightmares grow in strong daylight.
A losing battle, one I cannot fight.
Tears do not fix, nor ease the pain.
For all I do seems in vain.
Feeling useless, feeling spent.
Would it best if I went,
Far away, never to return.
To run from the pain that bites and burns.
Far away, in a foreign bed,
Still unable to rest my head.
MoonlessThe moonless eveningMoonless2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
turns its back against the sky
and leaves it empty.
Perhaps the morning
will come back with its hands full,
holding up the sun.
SelkieSelkie2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I know the ocean's gentle, rolling waves -
the treasures in its dark and murky depths;
and deep within its grottoes and its caves -
tis there the fey will lure me to my death
I met a girl so fair of face and skin,
her wanton kisses wrapping me within -
that all my senses lurched and crept away,
to lock me in this wet and slippery grave.
RainRain2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Rings and rivulets of water
Rolling down the panes and roof
Running wildly through the gutters
Resting underneath the porch
Raking wet across the shutters
Remaining still for far too long
Restless children yearn to play
Open Heart SurgeryI've got ink throbbing through fissured veins,Open Heart Surgery2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
poisoning every atom of my soul.
"Bite your tongue," they say.
How I'd love to chew the damn thing off
and suck down every filthy syllable
just like the rotten bone marrow it is.
They'd all watch as my body spontaneously combusts
and becomes nothing but convoluted karma.
And so I wrote,
Teach me the ways of ripping out a human heart,
and stitching it onto ink-stained parchment."
The answer that came was rasped from a cauterized throat:
"Read your future in the collapsed palm of the stars;
find the abandoned pulse of your lionhearted muse;
steal their conformed scalpel and make it your own."
Courting DeathCourting Death3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Death should be a glorious fiend,
an indulgent lover
who cradles your head
and feasts off
the slow twine
of body and soul.
He must court you,
run his long, cool fingers
from temple to spine
and count the days
that climb toward heaven.
He should caress
behind your knees,
find the delicate shift
and blood -
a music only he can taste,
and knead the supple
and smooth hopes you hold
and turn them into pledges.
He will love you
as you deserve -
that final lilt
of joy blotting out your breath,
his bleak and sinewed body
covering what lies beneath,
making the light
within your cheeks
a barren vessel
to whet his longing.
HauntingHaunting2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She felt no enchantment there
the bony parts of men
left to tangle in the air
For she will haunt you
in the worst way possible -
through skin and blood
and malformed dreams
through all the stories
from her mother's tongue,
She will hide and wait
for morning to come crawling
for August's harshest breath
left beating in your breast
She will be your crippled arms
your womb left
underneath her window
the heart she could eat
whole and beating on a plate
your protests a cold dinner
left waiting at her door.
i'm not an artistwe do not belong in boxesi'm not an artist2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and bags and books or
and we do not sit contently
in wordsworth and shakespeare
and blake, burns, and brownings
or in the cold stiff bones
of raleigh's of long ago;
detect, and re-select
a virus--a disease,
a germ in every verse and line;
the first signs of
foolish waitings under
bridges and scolding parents
and nothing to signify at all
we are the blood of nations
and the heart of men
and the love of every
rhetorist and sentimist
we dance through the ballrooms of
the age and chat with
we shake hands with heros
and the homeless, dirty
type that gum over 'hello's
we are and aren't and will be
silly verse and
naive philosophers and sweet oxymorons
waving hello from the shore;
forever onward and never ending
like the stars in an
Mythology 101 - AtlasAtlas -Mythology 101 - Atlas3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
a minor god,
not known for being smart,
went into family politics.
who bedded many nymphs
and sired star-studded children.
stole the apples,
tried to trick Heracles
and got that burden off his back.
shook up the status-quo,
betrayed his country and his king.
He shrugged -
or so they say,
dropped the world and its weight
and then sent the heavens reeling.
United, We WriteHear me read itUnited, We Write2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
0hgravity, if by some divine fortune you should decide that today is the day you will fail me, then let me soar through the ChemicalSkyline. Grant me a-lovely-anxiety that raises a storm InTheStarryNightSky for me to riseandbe above all else. Let me soar.
How I long to be the frail rider-on-the-storm and not a victim of the RoamingShadow, Rogue-Of-The-Night, that BlackVelvetNightmare of my nights and days. I long