My blood houses the melody,
My skin the harmony,
My being the complete symphony
I am the creator and the created,
The art and the artist
Sounds creating a vast canvas in my mind
It’s painterly waves submit imprints
Increasing tenfold in sharp echoes
While floating and drifting through tandem thoughts
Stringed voices dance through my striatum
Overwhelming and audible, all I can do is
Compositions of no other kind inhabit and entwine
Makeshift life folds into misty transparencies
I’m never by myself
When I have myself with me
Finding a friend I need,
Who understands how I feel
Expresses what my words cannot,
Makes my unseen feelings real
Fills my soul with such richness,
Reaches in the very depth of me
Suddenly bringing me out of this melancholy,
Or giving it peacefully back to me
Walking through city streets,
This feels like home
Through these alleys I wander and roam
Painting on concrete walls,
Expressing the bitter and sweet
I know w
Life is but a string of breathsLife is but a string of breathsLife is but a string of breaths2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Woven over time.
Some are short and broken,
Some dazzling and fine.
Each moment is unique and new,
Though some should be forgotten.
And every strand of memory
Should be treasured, never trodden.
The Musings of a Writer The pen hovered over a simple sheet of paper, the only marks on it being red and blue lines meant to keep foreign markings from shifting off their destined course. Yet the lines felt as if they had no purpose on this night because there were no dark markings to guide towards a path that would lead to so many possibilities. The truth, however, was more cruel than what an innocent bystander would have thought if they were passing by the coverless windows and, by chance, looked into the darkened room with only a single candle burning, giving little light for the person hidden in shadow that appeared to be leaning over a simple desk covered by pages of unused paper, a single pen with ink like the night sky in their hand. The very page set before the shadowed figure was the very same page that was void of any sign of use for several months. This simple yet terrible fact was the silver pendulum swinging over the writer’s head like thThe Musings of a Writer2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
RazorMidnight's tawdry pulseRazor2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
is feeble under my fingertips,
and her long black dress
feels like August
slipping through my fingers.
I like how her bones complain
that I misuse them,
tender to my touch,
and how her jaw arches back
and the moon arcs like a razor
across the room.
We flaunt the stars,
the stones under our skin
stretching the bed frame
till we crack.
And I fill you up,
your arms a battle
raging in the waning lies
A Curious FallIA Curious Fall2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Wisps of smoke spiral
around his lungs, catching his
breath, diving under
Why does something so soft have teeth
Your broken smile
Grinning up at me like I owe you something
My arms are like candlewax
My head a fuse
Shorter by the hour
Never burn out, my love
From his mouth
You know because of the
clouds behind his pupils, cursing you with thunder
Why does something so far seem so beautiful
Your keen fingers
On my skin
Hunting like pack dogs
Yesterday, you asked me
Why I draw crop circles in mist
There is no time left
His pen is rolling around
Willing to be picked up
And expended, discarded,
Like all else he had
Why does something so quiet seem so alive.
Everything You AreI've never been this close to heavenEverything You Are2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I've never known a love like this
I've never touched this side of happiness
In all the life I've lived
You’re that one in a million
The wish upon a star
Everything I've ever wanted
Is everything you are
Haikus from the pastHaikus from the past2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Lane of the park
Under the falling leaves
My mother’s laughs
Allée du parc
Sous les feuilles tombantes
Les rires de ma mère
公園の路 (kouen no michi)
散る落葉の下 (chiru ochiba no shita)
母さんの笑い (kaasan no warai)
Blades of grass, fresh dew –
On a waterfall of tears
Her life has ended
Brins d’herbe, rosée fraîche –
Sur une cascade de larmes
Sa vie s’est terminée
草葉、新鮮露― (kusaba, shinsen tsuyu)
泪の滝の上 (namida no taki no ue)
彼女の生命は終わった (kanojo no seimei wa owatta)
Navy breeze – a seagull!
Lassie filling her bucket
Before tide’s return
Brise marine – Une mouette !
La fillette remplit son seau
Avant le retour de l
JamesLoving you,James2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
was like loving the snow.
You burnt ice cold,
and you always took my breath away,
but left me sprawling
on the ground,
when I realized
the dream had melted.
The Fall of EpithilinonIThe Fall of Epithilinon2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Let no man speak of wars whence
No answer graced our call,
Let man remember gods thence
Gods, watchful of our fall;
Speak in silenced sighs, men,
Dead men hither sleep,
No flag here flails, amen, amen!
Who can ever beweep
Our brethren in the deep.
Frightened colours breached the sky,
The church bells played a dirge;
The bustling hills and vales so nigh
In crimson rage did merge,
Archers with crescents held high
Keen arrows fell like sin,
The portcullis in sorrow, shy
Interred our fathers in
The last grave of our kin.
Wailed the night in thunder blare;
The mangonels did come,
Lonely trumpets singed the air
When Earth ravished our home;
The eastern tower, wasting wear
For a trebuchet did bow,
Fallen stone and ballista bare
Broke its stony vow,
As the beadle mopped his brow.
Mildly armoured, men at arms
Stormed the brazen fray,
Howled the castle’s cold alarms:
Ladder men up the brae!
Blazed in ire the fields and farms:
The winter’s yield was spent;
Definition of a Writerwrit•erDefinition of a Writer2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A writer is a person
Who sees the world differently
From a high perspective of understanding
To an easily balanced imagery
They stand at the edge of the cliff
And run that extra mile
To gain what a normal person cannot see
And to obtain the hope that they wish to cherish
A writer is a person
Who buries their ego and places boulders upon it
They learn the rules, follow the rules, and will break the rules
And make writing their own
They lay upon the dusty old ground of a graveyard
And do an annual ritual to free the inspiration that has been pinned down
They want to show their abnormality to everyone around
And make this journey an unforgettable experience
Writers are masters of inspiration
And will set aside whatever may ruin the ecstasy of their writing
Which they will forever embrace
And will fight to claim the title author
In their world of words
Their stories are set free
Some are killed to b
Mind GamePick a card from the shuffled deckMind Game2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Close your eyes and breathe in slow
Floating fingers as wind on grass
Stay very still as the trick unfolds
Shift the lucky handsome devil
Inches closer to Heart’s drumroll
What thrill it brings of great suspense
To choose beyond all fears unknown
Slow racing thoughts burn through the ore
An almost kiss on luscious bliss
Pound the fire on tempest’s froth
Swallow swift delicious sin
Swivel forth the ocean maze
Drifting pops of poison air
Cast the shadows of falling spades
Hide and seek with Joker’s wraith
Draw the lines on sightless traces
Trimming all the truths of queer
Tread far on nightmares cliffless
Count time on Deception’s grin
Ashes bathe the pilfered portrait
Bereft from a start of false
A million frames so duly conjured
In minds of no one’s hold
Lay the aces upon the table
Siren songs in sweet implore
On bloodlust playing secrets
Shall you crown thyself no more
My Muse Has Left MeWhen she departs from my grace,My Muse Has Left Me2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
My palette dries in her wake,
Devoid of livelihood for now,
With dull words to fill my tray,
For now I paint a portrait,
With no wings of my own,
I am yet to be grown,
For she alone floats me high,
She alone carries the brush;
Strokes colours unto the night,
Filling the empty artist with,
Her sweet kiss of silvery light.
So I lay now in wait,
Under rainbows left gray,
To taste the honey of her life,
Dripping like nectar from rose-soft lips,
Pressed tight as a clamp unto mine,
Breathing into me a laced love letter,
Sighed: To the artist; From: The divine.
DanceWeaving, twisting, bobbing as a seaDance2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Unhesitating to meet the fiercest gaze
Lifting hands, conjoined for fractional seconds
Breaking and joining, flowing and flying
We are but golden strands of finest silk
Floating in the gentle breeze
Waving goodbye to the iridescent light
From which we came
Each turn a reckless choice
Each revolution a heady decision
Graceful artists, pondering destiny
Light streaming through with every stroke
So you can dance
In this elegant ballroom of brief eternity
Dance before you fade to the dark
Bright as a blazing star
In all its triumphant glory
Because to truly capture that essence of life
You must dance with it
And so we dance
Because we were made to
And we know little else
Sticks and StonesThey say words can never hurt you.Sticks and Stones2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Silence does a better job.
Where The Impossible Tries To BeTake me to a place, she said;Where The Impossible Tries To Be3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my dreams no longer see.
My heart is breaking, my will is gone;
I'm not who I used to be.
Show me the place you can only see once;
a world for just you and me.
Take me there, to that place;
where the impossible tries to be.
Where the light and the dark share their love;
where the sun and the moon dance above.
A place where the grass and wind
become the sea;
and splash their waves all over me.
Clouds are colors that become the sky;
taste them as they pass on by.
A place where Angels go to cry;
and tears rain down from cold clear sky's.
I'll look up sadly through the rain;
and understand the worlds pain.
so please don't let me fall asleep;
and die for a world i cannot keep.
but don't dare wake me if i dream;
You'll rip our world at its seams.
she left for the place that transcends time;
she'll live forever and ever mine.
a place i will never get to see,
because this world won't let me be.
I can only imagine.
oh so bitterly,
about the place;
Where The Impossi
I am ArtI am the one to whom you tell your lies, your truths, your fears. I am the one to whom you sell your soul and give your grief to. I am the one you love, I am the one you hate, I am the one you trust, I am the one you will never release.I am Art2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
As a young child you had always loved to see me. You couldn't wait for the day to come and you couldn't wait to get a hold of me. You enjoyed the fact that you could pour your soul into me and your parents would tell you how proud they were of you.
As you grew older, you used me less and less, yet, I was always there for you even though you slashed me, threw stuff at me, burned me, crumpled me... I have never let you down.
Did you ever realize how much you have relied on me? You use me and yet, I have never used you. I love you and you love me. I am you, in a sense, but at the same time, I am something completely different. I am your soul, your life essence.
Could you not cut me? Could you not remove me from your life? No matter how bad I may look, I am
Astrali'm the seraphicAstral2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a hallowed body
like i am hellbent on
Newlywed Life His heartNewlywed Life2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
~ Just Married ~
Keeping Us BrokenHe had an affinity with bandagesKeeping Us Broken2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Broken, punctured souls
Barely clinging to life
and ready to fall
Cradling them in his arms,
he sang them to sleep
And said he would protect them
He liked the taste of salt and copper
His tongue eagerly lapped it up
Within the cracks in the flesh
Wet, warm, dripping secrets
Tracing the etchings in the marred skin
And he said he would accept them
The black and the blue
Almost hidden from view
The words flowing through their veins
Crashing in their cluttered heads
Wanting to break free
Clogged windpipes, trembling lips
And he said he would say the words for them
I was one of them
A bird with faulty wings
It was oh so easy for me to fall
And for him to catch me
He found the darkness buried within the sands
And he said he would always be there for me
It made him feel better about himself
Kind, generous, caring
Coaxing broken souls out of their cages
Helping aching, starving beings breathe
Striving to save the unfortunate and the dehumanized
Not knowing that
MonsterThat bony smile across his faceMonster1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
a sight to take your breath away
as time erupts and slips its pace
a noose of stars that went astray
slips down the sky to find its place.
He said he roamed too far afield
that all his pleas were spurned and shunned
the hands of god refused to yield
They only left him dazed and stunned
with fleshy wounds that never healed.
So now he haunts the fields and fens
and calls the narrow ways his home.
The secrets that no man can ken,
the buzzards bleat a wretched drone
and turn their backs on drowning men.
You've Endured So Many Storms That You Became OneYou have endured so many storms that you became one.You've Endured So Many Storms That You Became One2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your mother was a tsunami.
Her emotions came in waves
and crashed down on you like
“this is all your fault”.
Her high-tide flooded your basement.
There’s water damage in your roots.
She taught you how to swim when you were five years old,
but somehow you’ve been drowning for seventeen years.
You once told me that you hid all the knives in your house
so that the waves wouldn’t carry them away.
Your father was a thunderstorm.
His voice shook your house so much,
I could have almost sworn that you lived by train tracks.
His thought clouds
generated enough electricity to light up your neighborhood.
When his lightning cracked you’d count
to see how far away his hand was from your face
before the friction in his bones was too much for him to bear.
You have endured so many storms that you became one.
You are an earthquake,
and my heart is your San Andreas Fault
Hiding the Bruises Behind Blackout BlindsBruises up my spine, sickly yellow.Hiding the Bruises Behind Blackout Blinds2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Fire bursting from the sun,
Casting light where it shouldn’t go.
Mucky foot prints through the house,
Round in circles and then run out
Marring the carpet, staining the floors.
The bruises accumulate in the dead of night,
Reminding me what it means to be alive
Not singing drunken ballads of stormy fights
And hiding the bruises behind blackout blinds.
I like to set things on fire, things I can’t have
Creep around strangers houses at the weekend,
Look at all the memories in photo frames on the wall
How can you miss something you’ve never had?
How can you grieve for the feelings you’ve never felt?
Is it wrong to avoid the mirror because when you look
You’re the only thing that's there?
Even then the ghost is getting thinner,
Sooner or later I will look and
She will no longer be there.
I feel like a ghost who leaves behind footprints
Too trampled for anyone to see,
Setting fire to people