EucalyptusEucalyptus9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
her skirts are so thick
if you spun her upside down
she would open up like a rose-
violent yellow pumps
and bubble ankles on
lanky blue legs, waving like stamen in the rain.
she's pollinating all over the room
a good thing to ask would be
why have I waited so long.
Do you remember burning me around your neck? I singed your hair, but didn't say anything.
It just curled from my fingers.
I sit far away now-
wrapped around my new love like a cat,
telling ghost stories and missing your shoulders,
flicking back and forth against the subway walls.
I got a letter today
a train schedule
another reminder of my
residence in the wings.
why have I waited so long?
I remember the day
you sat in my livingroom
somber, surrounded by fruit,
while I ran back and forth
miserable and sweating, trying to
find something appropriate to wear at the funeral.
you played at his memorial
and I watched
leaning back on the carpet and forgetting
entirely where I was.
Love has killed poetryIt makes no senseLove has killed poetry9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that something so poetic
could render a person without a word left
and without a rhyme to hold depth
But let it be said that this is the truth
a rose is not an image enough
and pales in comparison to true beauty
silk is not an example of true softness and comfort
after having been in your arms
such a daft fabric knows no such warmth
Love in its true and deep entirety
has made poetry obsolete
and destroyed each and every metaphor
made every simile fail and fall
over a cliff of inefficiency and foolishness
Desire and passion are no "fire"
and "raging" is not what they do inside a person
this can not possible describe a feeling that goes so deep
and eats away at every ounce of one's being
when a passionately moaned "I want you" can not express
There is a level that words can not reach
and a state of mind where each one falls aside
and you dare not utilize such useless tools such as words
lest you belittle this feeling inside
Love has strangeled the muse with
memories - i never hadmemories - i never had11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
memories (i never had)
i can feel the taste of tears
rising in my throat
keep it down
we don't want to wake the neighbors
with our sympathies
our word addictions
for the faceless names
that have snuck from between the dusty pages
grabbed our hands
and led us on a merry dance
through the dark apple tree forests
shadows in the moonlight
no reflections in their empty eyes
i reach out my hand
grasping for yours in the dark
the figure in the chair by the pool
looking out over the sea
but it is only fiction
that holds us apart
and your face is just a suggestion
over the sound of crashing waves
close my eyes
and smell the salt
feel the whisper of your skin
as you pass by
one last good-byeRoses aren't red aned love isn't trueone last good-bye10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
but neither was the friend i had in you
so many secrets i never told
from bad to worse my heart grows cold
i thought i could save you. guess i was wrong
i'll say my good-bye just one last song
don't look for me i won 't be there
you hurt me again this isn't fair
I tried to help you i thought i could
i tried to help you when no one would
you destroyed my world. a screeching halt
insult to injury... a little more salt
i'll turn my back to walk away
there's no reason left for you to stay
i loved you with all my heart
i watched you laugh and break it apart
i'll pick up my heart off the ground
and look for happiness that won't be found
tear it up, just rip it apart
dig your blade in my heart
roses were red, now violets are black
how lovely do i look with your knife in my back?
like all good things we ended with a lie
so i'm writing you my final good bye.
Shattered soul, bitter endShattered soul, bitter end11 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
who i am inside
is not who you think i am
i just want to cry
to love something that's not real
i wish i could die
these feelings will not leave me
but only you can save me
i need to be so absolute
you've barely scratched the surface
i want to let you in
my soul has ripped apart
you're piecing it together
I don't want to live past this day
you are the angel in my life
My god i'm so afraid
I've always been there for me
i cant believe you're here
you're the angel on my shoulder
We can run away
we'll live inside our own world
This tale is in my head
you've gone and now i'm dead
you never actually existed
i've dreamed of this quick answer
Now i've become so lost
i cant lose what i have won
this curse is getting hard
i can't take this constant bitter end
i'll just weep in the corner
and ignore the world outside
I am what I am
this profound life has passed me
i am now cold and numb
these drugs are so misleading
police at the door
an overdose existent
the ghosts all watch the show
the front ro
BloodBlood12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It runs through my veins
Like liquid fire
Causing so much pain,
Yet bringing such joy
Flowing through my muscular heart
And stright into my thoughtful brain
Giving me life
It is the blood of time
Carrying me out of the past
And propelling me into the unending future.
PhantomShe comes to me where it is always night—Phantom9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A black form, flowing black cape;
And like the moon, her face is white,
A deadly blossom from the black scape.
Her whisper I hear, soft but austere.
Her lips blow boreal breaths of dreams,
Dark torrents, cataclysmic illusions,
A web of inky, sugary themes
Building an empire, forcing extrusions
That harden like ice behind my eyes.
She tips the hourglass to begin
(With glassy ice knives and mirrors as weapons)
The descent of fallacy from within
And as each silver sliver cut deepens,
I begin to see the masterpiece.
Then, with a smile, she fades away,
Her work done, leaving me solitary;
Her zephyr falls, bearing an array
Of starlight elucidating the airy
Frost that crept into my mind and slept.
Came The AngelsCame The Angels11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Came the angels of tainted perfection
To line our hearts with ammunition
Adorned with twisted dreams of peace
To quell the fire of rapt ambition
Came the angels of newborn damnation
Fresh from the womb of brutal demise
Appeased with misfortune and vengeful souls
To gnaw our skin and gauge our eyes
And still, and still, the fires raged,
As victims fell to pre-dug graves.
Exiled creatures fresh from hell
Wished our shattered bodies well
And still, the roses failed to bloom
Crown with thorns, my blood consumed
Ebony blood runs cold as ice
Let loose with heartfelt sacrifice…
Let me DieIn my hate...I feel my forsaken soul rebornLet me Die11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Bound by fate, my spirit tattered and torn
Vision of a shattered reflection, to an infection
Of affection, the disection of thy life
Brought by strife to end yours, with your death
You curse my name with your last breath
And once more, my unseen smile survives
Deep in my core I feel the sick satisfaction settle
Even reveling in putrid gore; I defile all that was Once good, you should have killed me, now my Sorrow shall make me regret you see tomorrow; I Will never forget who I once was...
It is because of you I live, and I shall forever hate You for your kindness...its destroyed me
Now, I look up, my hungry eyes
Upon burning skies
I succumbed to lies, but no more
All my enemies lie bleeding upon the floor
Damn you, you let me fall, and I thank you for it
Even now I hear the devil's call
Marching hordes beneath demonic lords, hell born Songs are sung, war shall be raged across mortal Worlds, until the battles won
Even now I swear to avenge mys
VoidNo mild rush.Void8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
No shallow crush.
A gaping hole.
An empty soul.
The void in my heart.
When we are apart.
Holding onHolding on11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
weak of mind
she waits to see him
one last time,
her only child
the ungrateful son
she lies there wondering
will he come?
she loses hope
as she waits
she slips away
lost her faith
her vision blurs
one last tear falls
as she thinks
he never loved her after all
but then the door creaks
and there he stands
her little boy
but half a man
drops on his knees
his eyes shed true tears
for all the years.
as they embrace
they both know
with a smile on her lips
she finally lets go.
So You Wanna Be a Writer?Many writers profess their desire to be novelists or poets, and sometimes even journalists, but very few--indeed, even those sitting with Creative Writing degrees, know what other options are out there for someone gifted with words. Your old Alma Mater wasn't lying when they said you could do "anything" with an English Literature degree, but they may have been leaving out much of the story.So You Wanna Be a Writer?7 years ago in Editorial More Like This
For writers, especially those trying to break into the publishing business, the world is a daunting (and often depressing) place. Securing a literary agent is almost necessary in today's oversaturated market and, while many publishers are still looking for the 'next big thing' or a new revival of the ever-dying 'literary fiction', just as many are happy to continuing publishing texts that make money. Do not lose hope, however! Publishing the Great American Novel is not the only way to call yourself a writer, and sometimes you can slip in through the back d
The hidden pathThe hidden path9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I took to the woods on an autumn day,
For a land Id heard of long ago;
A hidden place that time had lost,
And a name I did not know.
Id heard it told, in tales before,
That a dream may yet be free
If one could leave that which was known,
And the past he longed to see.
So on my own I traveled forth,
In search for this hidden land.
With a song that day to carry on,
But no verse for days ahead.
There gold shone through the leafy sky,
Where it danced upon the stream,
And every tree that I passed by
Its own true spirit did seem.
The stream beside me would endless on,
Like a dream that cannot say
Yet where it ends, for ever changing
Is the river in its way.
Far before me the road led on,
But another turned away.
I looked from one unto the next,
But which was mine, I could not say.
Burning gold was before me set,
And autumn boughs in flames of red;
But side the water the other ran,
To follow where the river led.
And one, I knew could lead to right,
While the other
Seasons of Violet.We called her Violet, and she was.Seasons of Violet.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We knew her when she was young and pale, during Fall
And when we'd climb old trees, their brittle branches
Like welcoming arms
Would snap in two
And we'd cascade to the earthy ground
Carpeted with golden and red and orange
And as we fell,
Secretly, she'd wish with all the goodness in her heart
That she were a leaf as well
That like a leaf, she could be swept away to some distant place
In arms that would not break
In arms that belonged to people who truly loved her.
We called her Violet, and she was.
And with the changing of the seasons,
Winter had taken away her smile and replaced it with the cold blank
A frown that could only belong to a soul like hers
To a soul that had wished to be a leaf
But had became only the scent of pomegranate and midnight
Perhaps people would embrace her only to get drunk on her scent
But my love was sincere, and it mingled with her berried essence
As I would try to will life and warmth back into her.
A gift sh
Fevered DreamsFevered Dreams12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The world begins to spin
Out of grey comes light
A maelstrom of white
Bright light darkens
Deepens into ebony
Red and gold
Wearing faces of friends
People you thought you could trust
Betray you at every turn
The biggest and most fierce demon
Covered in blood
Blood of lies,
The crimson stain of others trust
Holds a mirror up to you
It wears your face
You cry out
Screaming for help
From the monster you've become
Gradually the world returns…
Too much truth is found in
Tips For Editing PoetryTips For Editing Poetry10 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
***Tips For the Novice (and otherwise) - Editing***
The blanket statement, "Editing/revision harms poetry," is simply wrong. It's akin to a photographer claiming that focusing the lens ruins the emotion of the photograph. It is the details, and the appropriate attention paid to them, that separate a photograph from a snapshot. Imagine a film maker slapping every frame he shot up on the screen without editing for continuity, for pacing, for effect. What a disaster. That is not to say that editing can't be destructive - there is such a thing as poor editing, just as there is poor writing. But done correctly, done well, it is one of the most important tools in the poet's shed.
Never shy away from editing/revision. Some young writers feel that to revise is to kill the spirit of the poem. This notion serves to sacrifice the potential of a poem for an ideal that
Untitled :or Coming Clean:Silence was vital; even the smallest sound could spell disaster. I glanced around me; there was barely any movement. Whenever I made eye contact with anyone, I hurriedly looked back at my desk until I regained control over my breathing. Like sand slowly slipping through the hourglass, the hands on my watch gradually moved around towards three o'clock.Untitled :or Coming Clean:9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Ten more minutes.
Ten more minutes before the release; the time when the floodgates would open and a barrage of irritation would be let loose on the unsuspecting public.
I looked to my left.
He looked to his right.
Our eyes met.
And he snickered. Not loudly, and only briefly, but in a deadly quiet room, it was more than enough.
"That's IT! You're ALL on lunchtime detention for the rest of the week!" At this, a groan rose from the group of students, and I punched Felix's arm. The idiot.
"And as for you two…" Mr Everingham glared at us over his scratched glasses, "You two have another WEEK on top of that! And YOU will be JOINI
StowawayStowaway10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Within the confines of my teeth,
as I brush with soft bristles,
cemented in place by filmy white plaque,
hides a transparent kernel,
two days and two-hundred lives old.
With me this kernel,
has spoken my soft words,
and screamed my demands.
It has swallowed my guilts and misgivings.
For two days, this stowaway
has lived a human life.
My amazement distracts me,
the thick blue foam embracing it
falls from existance.
I have murdered
in the second degree.
Insomnia-A dark nursery rhymeInsomnia-A dark nursery rhyme13 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I see you've come
to play again
lodged here in my soul so tight
turning brightness into night
please let me sleep
to never wake….
…now I lay me down to sleep
my life in tatters at my feet..
if I should Wake before I die
I pray these tattered wings can fly..
I never want to feel again
trapped here in this world so cold
where self is wrong
and Us is gold.
how i wonder why i'm here..
Temptation"Oh but mother!" I sighed shaking my head at her as she crossed her arms giving me a stern glare.Temptation4 years ago in Settings More Like This
"Don't defy me, Perisia! You know very well to never cross into that land! After what happened your older sister, I couldn't bear loosing you too!" She said unfolding her arms pulling me into warm sun kissed hug, I couldn't help but hug her back. I completely understood what she meant, my sister Persephone had wandered off and and was seduced by the god Hades. My mother, Demeter, was devastated but after a deal with my uncle, Zeus, he was able to free Persephone for six months. During those months my mother had lightened up and was happy. Then I came into the picture. Perisia. The daughter of the harvest goddess Demeter and Zeus and sister to the ill fated Persephone, queen of the underworld.
"I swear to you that I won't do anything irrational. Now may I please go now?" I asked wanting to go play out in the fields under the warm sun provide by my cousin Helios.