the prophet: joy, sorrowthe prophet: joy, sorrow5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
rife with tears,
joy weeps with sorrow.
Time LapseTime Lapse5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
The torrent frozen.
The very cascade of time
Summer VelvetFog moves over the faceSummer Velvet7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of the mountain, caressing
trees like dark green velvet
beneath skies hung over
with too much drink,
swollen with gathering
waters soon to shower
the lush lands with
the deep warmth
nodalnodal3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
lures to attract the future,
to nourish fresh seeds.
the prophet: givingthe giftthe prophet: giving5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is the act,
not the thing that is given,
with grace, that which is given.
that act is
Where No One Will SeeWhere No One Will SeeWhere No One Will See6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
up in stained palms
cupped just above the rocks
where it almost fell
the water, nothing more
nearly lost to weeds there
but to my mouth instead
made open to taste more
than heat off stones
the stones, nothing more
I nearly forget to drink
my shirt torn and me left
kneeling like a stone breaker
as if I only had a moment.
Chapter One- ContactChapter One - ContactChapter One- Contact7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Hello my name is Mordecai.
I'm 15 years old.
And I am crazy.
I wasn't always crazy, or at least I don't believe so. I lived a normal life when I was younger. It was after I turned 10 that my troubles began. Before that my life was fine, I was just like everyone else. I didn't have these problems.
Anyways, I'll understand if you don't want to reply, but all I ask is if you'll listen?
Really!? Well that's great! I must have left over 200 messages but your the first to ever listen. Really it's very lonesome having no one to talk to all day. But now I have you.
I suppose I should explain myself though, and to do so I should start at the beginning:
As I said I wasn't always crazy, I use to be just a regular kid. I went to school, I had friends, and I still lived with my family.
Miss my family, it's been so long since I've seen them. I can't even clearly remember their faces anymore. My father has never visited me here and my mot
LossAfter we parted,Loss2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
phantom pleasure, phantom pain.
DancerLook! Even now her body speaks that ancient dialect of motionDancer4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she learned in her long ago, when her flesh was pliant, when
she could depend on her muscles, easily cultivating grace and flow.
She no longer dances publicly. She instructs and directs the company's
young dancers. She shares with them those physical arts of eloquence,
of gestural poignancy, the arts she's devoted her long career to perfecting.
You may have noticed how many dancers use this bar. She's here when
old friends are passing through. She sips demurely at her spritzer,
she wears her hair pulled back severely, an ascetic in the service of dance.
Her body disciplined too long for the frivolities of sensual pleasure.
Dusk by DawnDusk by Dawn7 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
The sun sinks to rest.
Along the pier, like fireflies,
Lamps begin to glow.
EchoesEchoes4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
The heroes' gilded
ships were lost aeons ago
in these dreaming seas.
The poet can no longer
recall those old adventures.
MirrorMirror5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Motionless, the pool
has trapped the vault of heaven,
spread before my feet.
Making PoetryI lie in bed on my stomachMaking Poetry7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The mattress gives,
your hip a pleasant
weight against mine.
I read another poem
but not as closely as before.
You stretch out and
look over my shoulder,
feigning interest, your breath
on my neck a distraction.
I study another poem then
have to start over because
I didnt quite get it.
My shirt slides upward,
dragging behind, your fingers.
You lay your cheek on my
back, your face a warm,
Burning in Water -
the words run together -
Drowning in Flame.
The red volume finds its
way to the floor as
I turn to another kind
Hank would understand
grovethe seed takes rootgrove5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
pushing down, stretching up
fibonacci's sequence commences in this ancient act
taproot and trunk
extrapolating systems so energy can cycle
is the design
the roots seek out water as the branches seek out the sun
feeding off of, feeding
on switche's tip sets a bloom, the place where genes commingle
where the pattern's set in
the seed takes root.
temperedtoo late didtempered7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I find you, learn
to love you
your weary heart already
pounded into steel
by those who
r.s.v.p.what I'd really liker.s.v.p.7 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
is someone who won't make me
feel ashamed to feel
Antique MelodyAntique Melody4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
I find memory stored
in my fingers, my elbows,
they can jig a tune.
I'm dancing. See my fingers
leap and hop! The song breaks free.
EmbroideryThe spyglass makes aEmbroidery5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Piano out of me: tines
Tinkering on bones