Judas IscariotJudas Iscariot7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Let me kiss those lips
so good at stirring up dissent
among the rabble
and keeping dull clerics
on their toes
with nimble questions
that try my patience
and drive strong men to drink,
like how many angels can sit on a pin head
or how do you shove a fat guy
through the eye of a needle?
Turn my water into wine
and stun the crowd
with your miracle of choice.
Maybe the Lazarus trick
where you cheat death
and then appear on a grilled cheese sandwich
to housewives in Hoboken -
one last shell game
from the carpenter who would be king
and start a revolution.
You see, I have a plane to catch
(30 pieces of silver won't get ya far these days)
A one way ticket to the promised land;
but before I go, I need to know
Are we good?
EloquenceEloquence6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Your gently barbed tongue
eloquence at its finest
captures pretty prey
LodestarLodestar7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You know the havoc you wreak
with that bad girl tease
you keep up your sleeve -
a game where you wrap your tongue
around a cherry stem
and wrap the wicked ribbon of wanting you
around the swell of your hips,
a lush bloom rubbing blisters
against my imagination
and the white silk of your skirt
Your thoughts are too expensive
to be owned by this poor boy
with holes in his pockets
and a heart full of anarchy
who just wants one taste
of the trouble you wear
like a lodestar.
Dream CatcherDream Catcher7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I covet your nightmares.
I want to inch them apart,
wire bright and brittle
from under your skin,
split them down the middle
and crawl deep inside.
I want to wrap them
in yellow newspapers
and tatter your skin
right between your shoulder blades
with their bleak words.
I want to see them glisten
bone shard white and blistered,
the pucker of your flesh
stopping up my thoughts
in the lost vacuum of you.
I want to own them
and watch your mouth run dry
the buckle of your body
scraping up against the sky,
savoring the taste of cheap.
The Witching HourThe Witching Hour7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The lost hour of black magic
that trails the rough edge of midnight
when the moon seduces those
whose limbs dance and twitch
like fingers pricked on spindles,
and sleek, supple demons
polish apples and spread their wings,
perching on flecks of amber
to tangle the dreams of lovers.
Desire tightens in a catch of silk,
rippling over the bed clothes -
capturing your cries and whispers.
Buttons open like ragged wounds,
spilling soft pleas of want;
and the sweet torture of skin
pressing skin becomes a music
that leaves you unnerved.
You taste shadows in your mouth
and the bright smoke of memory,
as dark coils like a braid of jet
to blot out the stars and candles -
holding you a willing captive
deep inside the witching hour.
VampyreVampyre7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I want to ripple that wavering surface
with words drawn from demons
spilling off my tongue in slow motion
so my meaning catches you unawares
and you can feel it seep between your bones -
that frisson of doubt
a delicate shadow on your bare shoulder.
Let me pull you under the dark waves
where the air is spiced and warm
and lace your mind with images
that move in shuddered sighs,
fallen from grace
until thought becomes a hunted child
or forgotten play thing.
Let me play tricks of the night
with heart lines
and decimate the sacred cows
you offer on the tip of your tongue.
showing you colors
that cut the night into
a bright arc of the possible.
Let me taste what you cannot utter
and unlace it in riddles and rhymes
in pale ribbons and whispers
over your throat and down your neck
running to that dull ache
that craves the language of persuasion.
The QuiltIt began with the dreams. Minute, stabbing dreams that hit me in the back of the neck like torpedoes, shattering my rest only minutes after I had passed into sleep, leaving me shell-shocked and frightened in the seeping darkness and crowded shadows.The Quilt8 years ago in Horror More Like This
I say dreams - and not nightmares because they were not uniformly horrific. Not, at least, in content. But they all shared one thing: they were physical in nature received not just by my minds eyes and ears, but by my whole body. And one other thing: never in any case was I transported, as is usual, to some far-off dreamscape nor even to any reconstructed scene of my everyday life. Only in the confines of the four walls of my bedroom would they play out.
The first that I can remember saw me lying in bed with my face to the wall, as is my habit. I could not see anything because I was asleep, but somehow, I still had an awareness of the room around me. To the extent that rather than being cocooned in the warmth of s
VespersVespers6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Lose yourself in me.
Be the unbidden thought
that follows me to bed.
and tosses my pillows
into dawn's lingering traces.
Be the gentle wager
I make with the night,
the ravage of stars
that follows me until
I can make peace with the dark.
Be the first tumble of dreams
that steals into my mind
and unravels me in eiderdown
while the day steals from my limbs.
And when morning breaks promise,
be the first touch of aurora
to brush against my skin.
Entropyi spin apart, a galaxyEntropy2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
ever expanding while
trace icy paths down
my spine -- the ghost
of your fingertips
against my skin
even after your memory
The BookRead the book,The Book2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Of a thousand souls,
The gatekeepers book,
The keeper of the toll.
He reads your name,
From subliminal verses,
Brings forth your shame,
He must have rehearsed this.
He speaks with a tongue,
Lined with silver,
Whether old or young,
You will surely shiver.
Vampire PoemVampirism (or a better name, i can never name poems)Vampire Poem8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The storm calls her to the balcony
Laced up in the night sky
Her spine like the curtains
It snakes up her back
Her hair shines black
Her face dark as white
Nails tap the railing
As she waits for her hero
Her dress wavers in the wind
Quenching her thirst
Her eyes pierce the sky
They burn through the stars
Her lips pursed in anger
Her cheeks flushed with fire
She waits for her saviour
The door bursts open
And in comes her knight
His palms strong as steel
His body an iron effigy
He walks to her like a titan
She spins in her silhouette
Her hands grip his shoulders
His clamp her waist
He moves in for the kiss
She moves in for the kill
Beneath the lips of beauty
Lie fangs of the night
She has waited her meal
Her teeth pierce bare flesh
Blood drains from his neck
The thick automaton
Becomes a helpless fawn
His body collapses on the railing
And with a simple push it topples over
The corpse falls a thousand feet
JanuaryJanuary7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Winter came late that year,
catching lazy autumn off guard,
burnishing the late harvest grapes
into the mellow stain of Brandywine
and breathing soft frost
into the dreams of sleeping children.
It rolled pewter across the sky,
chased the moon with chilly fingers
and cast long shadows across the ponds,
lashings of stripped birch branches
rattling windows at midnight,
and slipping through casement cracks
where it hid in silver fog.
It swept leaves from silo lofts;
muddled tobacco and blackberries,
and spangled cobwebbed corners
like stars strung on a bracelet.
It glistened and twinkled
and made the children dream of flying,
feet skimming weightless on silver
like slivered wings of snow owls.
It made old men think of laughing,
and set mothers to baking apples
and unpacking wool coats from trunks
hidden behind the attic eaves
where moonlight practiced magic.
It crept into bowls of snow pudding
and tucked itself under sleds,
piling in drifts against windows.
It stretched across bridges
Autumn Sunsummer breezesAutumn Sun2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
come and go,
as I shatter frozen
in the August fields
you wander and flow,
kiss my wounds and fly away.
eggshell skin cracks
I'm only chaos inside,
and manic laughters:
swift spat lies through sharp teeth,
backstabbing grins with snakelike skin,
summer fails to warm up
the coldest self.
I'd often burn my feet,
sun-beaten dust that sticks to your sweat,
summer breezes would
mend our bruises and cuts.
our autumns will
never be the same,
no fresh starts to soothe our old blisters,
your face will
never look the same
as my eggshell eyes
fail to make connections,
w i n t e r t o c o m e
k i l l a n e n d l e s s s u m m e r .
Missing in Actionand so they woke upMissing in Action6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like sad fiction
and found you missing again.
you left no clues this time -
no lipstick gash
on the wine glasses
spinning under your feet,
on the cats throat
still strung behind the curtain,
stained with morning
left to sour the milk,
no strain of breath
sticking like feet
from under the bed,
no trace of skin
ground into the new
only your heartlines,
ghost clean and
strung out on my mirror
with your smile.
Sparrow HeartbeatsMy fingers twine in the loops and swirls of the oatmeal colored carpet, and I dig my nails into the only ground I can touch as if somehow that could hold me here forever. Keep me from flying away, flying apart. Gray eyes stare up at the ceiling, watching as the fan in the center turns hypnotically, occasionally flinging bits of dust. It sifts down through the impossibly hot air, settling around me like grave dust. I can hear them downstairs, fighting again. Their words echo through the house, muffled by carpet and thin walls, just enough to render words indecipherable, but not the meaning behind them.Sparrow Heartbeats2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Rolling over on my side, I face the wall between my bed and dresser. The paint is chipped and flaking, dark marks mar the whiteness. Silently, I trace my finger across them, connecting the dots as I form new constellations, naming them after all the things I cannot have: hopelovehappiness. The wall feels cool beneath my fingertips, and I wonder how it can be so cold when ever
Fatal AttractionEven when it's over,Fatal Attraction2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you look me in the eye and lie,
shrug me off with a smile, or a chuckle
and swear this is not goodbye.
Nearly a decade has passed,
and I still fear the words you play,
I fear they'll drag me into the endless melodies,
of the moans and sweat -of other men-
that linger in your sheets.
you clutch to me, clip my wings
and use your entire arsenal,
to stop me from walking out of the gardens of your soul.
suddenly I am your glorious hero,
The god of fates and wine,
and those little scribbles you call poems,
are my ever darkening confines.
Nothing hurts anymore,
so kill me now,
or after a couple poisonous bites,
gently clean the crust of your insincerity
and treat the wounds that never cease to bleed,
and leave a moist kiss against my lips,
for even in death, I still thirst for your embrace.
The Raging CrimsonShe worked from dawn till duskThe Raging Crimson2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Her back hurt,
and sweat dripped down her skin
lining every curve in her old face.
He'll be home when it snows,
he'll be cold and she'll warm him
she'll hold him through,
the frosty wind of December
in her small, old home.
His portrait greeted her,
right after she opened the door.
Hanging proudly, slightly tilted
on the opposite wall.
A smile filled her lips,
she touched the image,
and pressed a kiss against his nose.
Two days later he was gone,
another martyr of an endless war.
There was no body to bury,
only the lingering scent in his clothes
in which she bathed her wounded soul.
She wept till her eyes hurt,
Grudge took the only person
who made her whole.
She buried his belongings at dawn,
lined his tomb with stones,
planted a tree where his head should be
and on the lonely clothesline,
she placed her country's flag
drenched in tears.
to dream of a dreamI fell in love,to dream of a dream1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
with the silence in the snow fall.
the way the cold vibrated around me,
lighting the sky with a warm hue.
even at midnight.
I fell in love,
with the stars scattered across dark-ling blue.
the way the light pin pricked my eyes,
showing me we are never, ever a l o n e
even in the cold.
I fell in love,
with the lore of a thousand lives.
the way words paint worlds before me,
surrounding me with friends across ages.
even when long dead.
I fell in love,
but secrets to keep,
and promises to be made,
those are not the things
that make it.
I fell in love,
with the brilliant, wavering dreams.
the way stars and words and silence
come together and thrive,
even when I'm awake.
VagrantsYour words are vagrants,Vagrants6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
bent black and blue
by the wind -
soiled and lonely,
waiting for a beautiful man
to brush them from your face
and make them clean.
They long to find a hallway
and to intoxicate someone's lover
and play Jezebel in his arms
what his name really means
and why his wife is dying.
They want to call him on the telephone
and ask if these scars are real
or if all sin is original,
immaculate and lacking,
like something left out overnight
that cannot find its home.
They want to hit below the belt
and leave lipstick on his collar,
a telltale slash,
and climb into a whiskey bottle
left hiding in a suitcase -
the kind your father carried
when he left you
waiting for a promise.
Half Sick of ShadowsThe heart of a girl sets encased in the shell of a womanHalf Sick of Shadows7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Watching the world through cold dead eyes
A hand was placed on her shoulder
Whether to give or draw comfort
She never knew
Lacking the will to fight
She allowed it to draw her up
And lead her along the path
That earlier had not been there
A voice began speaking
And with wonder she watched
As all it said began to appear
Looking so very much like her dreams
With a dawning sense of awe
She continued to watch
As the barren winterscape surrounding them
Transformed into an eternal spring
Tinged with the glow of fall
Feeling the warmth
Emanate from this being
She tried to draw closer
Hoping some of it might be shared
In the pictures it spun
She heard the crashing of waves
Off the coast of an Emerald Isle
She saw a cottage
Surrounded by dappled light and trees
The warmth of laughter
Radiating from its open windows
Slowly washed over her
Making her want to become a part of it
Onward they walked
So that it may show her more
Lost Chances.There are things I can't tell you,Lost Chances.9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
things I keep locked inside,
my feelings, my thoughts,
veiled by the mask I hide behind.
I want you to be happy,
And I want to keep you, dear friend,
But this love that's killing me,
I always lose in the end.
I want to be the winner,
I want to be the only one,
But your heart belongs to someone else,
All my chances are gone.
My serpent tongueexit wounds,My serpent tongue2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my serpent tongue,
pleasure comes in selfish ways,
as I lay charmed,
coax me out of my
poisonous purity of mind.
my adult fears,
my disproportionate sense
what's really happening.
kissing snakes feels
all the more natural to me,
fallen angels taste like
alcohol and strawberries,
my bitterness and ecstasy
are just added up.
in the end,
flavorless love is just a
to think you're pure.
my true nature kills my dreams,
my dismay feels
so expected and so clean,
if truth brings along this purity,
I am the fairest of them all,
my serpent tongue craves nothing
but succubus love.
Intimate MurderIn the depths of my heartIntimate Murder3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with a rush of warm blood
fluid and thin... red
a gate to nowhere
where anger resides, uncomely
a fearful creature, trapped in fire and amber
beyond the reach of human realms
carved in fury by a curve blade
There, I have planned
your murder so intimately
as whom declaims irretrievably
the shadows of the sun and the day
with every little piece of its former shape
the shape it had before you
the inner me... shattered,
scattered across the darkness
of the entire universe, apart from myself
Forever moonless, starless... loveless
lost in letters of grief and ink poisoned
without any more magic, turned into a walking dead
soon to be dust... only nothingness
thirsty for vengeance, my quest and purpose
I'll never be a song, a dream dancing
I know that because of you... so if you die
if I'll murder, even the memory of your existence
make you to disappear completely, obliterated and forgotten
I'll get by...
© copyright of KAY MARCH
This Sadness Without a CauseThis sadness without a causeThis Sadness Without a Cause3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like an old rebel
holds me back, keeps me in
dancing alone inside the castles that
I have been building
half my life - higher and higher
Impaled in the walls goes my heart
already alabaster and bloody ruby jewelry
rising in the staircases applying to Heaven's doors
behind stays... a well of wishes forged in Hell
after the leaves have fallen, one by one
as dreams and aspirations broken
The dark cold finds a way
to get into my skin, deep in
and my soul finds no compelling reason to fight against
this frozen emotion crystallized in time
immortalized by fragments of seconds
by the mere thought of you near
The window view exposes nothing new
the snow lies down... desperate in its whiteness
accepting me as its prisoner or guest
far away from the riverside, my water crumbles
I close my eyes and the sea comes to me
with the shape of clear blue skies in tears
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.