waiting for your voice to
reach out for mine.
Fingertips of satin,
caressing the confines of my
whispering a thousand constellations to my waning sanity.
Promises upon promises,
mosaic labyrinths etched into mutilated
Trembling lips — July's blasphemous sun
lingering above December's intangible moon,
and these looking-glass limbs scream for your
tongue to shatter me into one million
Rose eyelashes; iron thorns and liquid petals
flutter open to the dull luster of our
and in the end, your nebula fades away
in the disintegrating morning, just like my [heart] broken
-My mind- in Free Verse More Like This
s h u t u p.
Too many "fuck you's"
that morph into
drip off this
Try and make it better. Fail. Try again. Break down.
So many faults
that seem to just
turn me into someone
Look into the mirror. See nothing but a clone. Fabrication. No longer me.
I stare and want
to break that glass
so that I can also
b r e a k.
Try and say something. Turns into nothing but rage. Take it out on you.
This shattered heart
only wants to make it
and become one again.
"I want to hate you."
"But I can't."
"So I hate me instead."
"But why won't this stop?"
"Why can't you make it stop?"
"...it's not my fault."
Say what you want to say. Honest brutality.
"H E L P M E"
It's time for me to
s h u t u p.
They say beauty is only skin deep,so hand over that defected scalpel in your bloodless handsThey say beauty is only skin deep, in Free Verse More Like This
and watch carefully as I peel away this tainted skin
to make way for my blackened and corrupted
And everyone can finally see
the grotesque monster that lies deep within
this soiled excuse they seem to enjoy calling
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
then why is it that I can't stand
gazing upon my reflection
every time I pass by a mirror?
Poetry is:Poetry is:Poetry is: in Free Verse More Like This
the adhesive to
a fragmented soul;
broken wings that still dream of
F L Y I N G
how snapdragons breathe stardust
and orchids perform ensembles.
when 'imagination' and 'reality' at last discover a
c r o s s r o a d s,
and rush to embrace one another with fervent limbs.
why gravity seems to f
l, taking the world with it.
what flows through the veins of every pair of [shipwrecked; star-crossed] lovers.
who I am; who I was; and who I want to be.
WhisperI want to create an aromatic sea of jasminesWhisper in Free Verse More Like This
and stardust mountains of silver and —
Inkblot skeletons with paper mache
hearts, whose bones shall burn with one glance at the
sun; gravestones of blood diamonds and tears of thistles...
Harp strings ringing in grotesque harmony, screaming
for slender fingers to pluck and caress with devotion.
I want to write
Into the PlungeBuild me aInto the Plunge in Free Verse More Like This
sandcastle on the edge of the sea,
where the cliffs are sprayed with the salty tears of the tide,
and sirens cry into the night for the arms of a lover
to whisk them away into a dry night free of brine;
Where we shall dance the sunset's furtive sigh of redemption
on the edge of saline bluffs, and kiss with the gunpowder
of forgotten cannons high on the waves of an abandoned ocean;
Teetering the edge of the world, where the Kraken and Leviathan lay in wait
for lost-lorn victims of broken hearts and brackish undertows
coursing through their veins.
HellfireYou see her nonsensical whims and think to yourself,Hellfire in Free Verse More Like This
"nothing but a simpler state of mind."
She hides behind an ivory mask,
and torpid mirth;
Radioactive sulfuric masses of artificial
crystalline lips upturned in an adamant curve.
Laughter echoing throughout hollow bones, concave and
just as empty as the cartilage ensnaring the vacant
You can't fathom the netherworld tucked deep in her translucent limbs;
nor comprehend the frenzied howls from the fangs of a decaying Cerberus.
For when you will at last board Charon's ferry and float down the conflagrant waters of
Styx, regarding her perched upon a throne sewn from the blistering skin of her enemies and
wearing a crown of brambles and tears and seeds born of pandemonium—
Her soul's true colors will shine at last: her mind and body nothing but
kindle for the overdue vengeance of her ravenous
.I stare at the screen, waiting for some burst of inspiration to rain upon me like a meteor shower sent straight from the gods of literature heaven.. in Emotional More Like This
A sigh escapes my lips, and I haphazardly bash random buttons of the keyboard, watching as the blank document before me is littered with an incoherent placement of characters. The monotone click-clack seems to just resonate with the narcoleptic beating of my heart, further fueling my senseless crusade.
Where has all my writing gone?
It feels like it was just sucked right out of my soul. Ideas constantly plague my mind, yet all I can do is write them down. When I go to type them out, nothing happens. And then, just as quickly as my urge to write appears, it is gone in a flash—and all I can do is slump forward and hope that maybe next week I'll get something productive done.
My fingers halt in their endless assault of the keyboard, and my eyes slide up to scan the nonsense I've created on the bright screen. It's n
NecromancyI wanted to see what makes a human heartNecromancy in Free Verse More Like This
so I took a scimitar and ripped apart your decrepit
and inside that primordial ribcage I found nothing but
And you merely gave a cruel parody of a
dug your bloodstained claws into your
and tore out that infestation you called a
"Analyze that well, my little necromancer," you
fangs dripping with the acid I once begged to
"Perhaps you'll be as wise as me once you find the
I could only watch as you sunk back down into
clutching that contaminated Philosopher's Stone
knowing you had replaced my heart with the poison known as
'l o v e.'
GlacialJanuary wolves stalk her shivering heart;Glacial in Free Verse More Like This
bitter ice-fangs sink into feverish skin.
Frost devours slowly, succinctly, shamelessly;
yet the howling tossed chains around her
paper-thin limbs and dragged her down.
Arctic icebound lips quivering,
silver eyelashes fluttering emptily,
alabaster fingertips reaching out;
frenzied yet frozen and fractured.
"Drowning," she whispers in a winter song,
and places her mouth upon snow-dusted fur.
"Blood freezing in these frostbitten veins."
And then the pack of aurorean wolves bolt away,
leaving her smiling in the blizzard of humanity.
AimlessSpring forgot how to begin anew,Aimless in Free Verse More Like This
so Winter stole her amnesic heart and tossed it to the wolves.
"Devour me," the stars seemed to beg;
so Gravity plunged them into the ocean's nebulous depths.
These lips no longer offer hymns up to fallen gods—
so Fate sacrificed herself for the chance to be reborn.
Words on the WallThe sun melted into the glamorous skyWords on the Wall in Free Verse More Like This
The moon stood there, hidden by sweet lullabies.
But mommy was crying, her day had been hard
The tears in her eyes twinkled just like the stars.
Her face wasn't happy like it should have been
And though she was saddened, she forcefully grinned.
I wanted to see Mommy smile through it all...
I painted a picture on her bedroom walls.
I told her to look, just to come in and see
But Mommy was angry... she wasn't happy.
She threw me down hard on the cold wooden floor
Then picked me up, slamming my head on the door.
She yelled and she screamed, then she hit me once more
She slapped me till I couldn't see anymore.
My heart then stopped beating, my laugh went unheard
Then Mommy got up without saying a word.
She looked at the walls splattered with my young blood
Then fell to the ground in her tears with a thud.
She looked at my face, then she looked all around
Then wrote on the walls with the first thing she found.
Then, after she finished, she wanted self h
Good Enough... for YOU.As I sit here cradling the blade in my handsGood Enough... for YOU. in Free Verse More Like This
Treasuring the moments I wish that I had
I can't stop growing more lost and confused
I can't stop thinking... am I good enough for you?
As I sit here, wrapping the rope around my neck
No one will understand a meaning so complex
I simply can't stop thinking about it somehow
Thinking, am I good enough for you now?
As I sit here, pulling the trigger on the gun
I think, maybe I was never meant for "the one"...
goes the bullet.
For when I think it through...
I really won't ever be good enough for you.
Once Upon a NightmareOnce upon a mysteryOnce Upon a Nightmare in Free Verse More Like This
Once upon a crime
Once upon a lullaby
Once upon a rhyme
Once upon a thunderstorm
Once upon a lie
Because every nightmare tends to start
With once upon a time.
In a Little Girl's MindThere sits the girl with the things in her eyesIn a Little Girl's Mind in Free Verse More Like This
Monsters, destruction, and sweet butterflies
Hopscotch and daisies, surrounded by screams
Beautiful dresses now torn at the seams
Crayons and paintbrushes, villains and grins
Young, gladsome innocence, hatred and sins
Little red houses on roads left to fade
Gorgeous moonlight shining off of the blade
Blood pouring out as she cries her own name
Knowing she's forced to take each bit of blame
She could have stopped it and left it behind
All of these things in her troubled young mind
She could have saved them if she dared to try
Rather, though, she left herself there to die.
Now, others watch as she sits on the ground
Keeping their distance and letting her drown
In her own worries and things she won't tell
Waiting for her mind to kill her as well…
What Happened?I used to think make upWhat Happened? in Free Verse More Like This
Made people ugly.
Now I think I'm ugly without it.
I used to think people
Always loved me.
Now I think everyone hates me.
I used to think everybody
Was my best friend.
Now I think no one truly is.
I used to think
Boys were icky!
Now I wish I had one.
What happened to being
Goodbye, miscarried babyI love the little baby that I never got to holdGoodbye, miscarried baby in Free Verse More Like This
The baby that I never got to see.
And maybe, just maybe that baby would love us, too
If only that baby got to be.
I love the little baby that was never able to smile
Never even able to survive.
And maybe that baby would have a life worth living
If only that baby was alive.
And maybe that baby had mommy's blue eyes
And daddy's smile, and grandma's tight hugs.
And honestly, there's no way to describe that little baby
And no way to describe the way it was loved.
Bipolar DisorderI am a victim of a shadow named fourteenBipolar Disorder in Free Verse More Like This
And a little girl, my old best friend who turned into a demon.
Fourteen human figures without a face… they attack my soul
And everybody’s staring at me without an honest reason.
I am a victim of the people of the world
Who only want to hurt me, and my innocent family
Terrified of the ones around me, even those I love
When a nightmare becomes my reality.
I can’t take a shower without peeking outside the curtain
And I can’t close my eyes when I wash my hair
Because I’m horrified, afraid that when I open them
I’ll see somebody with a bloody face angrily standing there.
Sometimes I unlock the doors and then lock them again
And to be honest, I’m not completely sure why
And I can’t go upstairs at night, because what if there’s a fire?
I won’t be able to make it out in time.
I am a victim of a shadow named fourteen
And a little girl, my old best friend who turned into a demon.
And somehow, ou
One dose of glitterOne dose of glitter can light up the worldOne dose of glitter in Free Verse More Like This
One little thought can bring back little girls
Fairies and dragons and strong, worthy knights
One dose of glitter can shine through the night
Hush, little girl, for the stars in the sky
Shining so sweetly like your stunning eyes
Don't let the nightmares define what you'll be
Notice the beauty within every dream
Hush, little girl, there is no need to fight…
One dose of glitter to light up the night.
SchizophreniaShh.Schizophrenia in Free Verse More Like This
Look behind you.
"Are you okay?"
Shapes, forms, bodies, animals, plants
Shifting, moving, being
"What's wrong with you?"
You're a freak.
No one wants you.
You should kill yourself, let them out of their misery
Or we'll do the job for you.
"They're fake, you know."
No they're not.
"What are you doing?"
This is how I live.
Save me, from the monsters, the shadows
"What can I do?"
You can stop.
You can stop being ignorant
Purpose.Purpose.Purpose. in Free Verse More Like This
What would a story be?
If there was no one there to read it.
What would dreams be?
If there was no one there to conceive it.
What would a picture be?
If there was no one there to see it.
What would a secret be?
If there was no one there to keep it.
What would love be?
If there was no one there to feel it.
What would a song be?
If there was no one there to sing it.
What would the truth be?
If there was no one there to admit it.
What would advice be?
If there was no one there to give it.
What would life be?
If there was no one there to live it.
I'm TryingI'm Trying.I'm Trying in Free Verse More Like This
What more do you want from me?
Can't you see I'm trying my hardest?
I'm trying to make something of myself.
I know nothing is promised and I may not be the fastest.
I know my attempts have not resulted in any form of wealth.
What more can I do to prove to you that this is what I want?
I can see you are finding it difficult to get past this.
You think there is more I can do to help myself.
You can see that I'm struggling; I never tried to mask this.
I want you to understand that this is something I must do for myself.
But all that I will ask for you is,
I hope that one day you will believe in me.
Believe in everything that I am trying to accomplish.
You don't have to necessarily agree with me.
But I promise that one day both you and the world will be astonished.
And on that day hopefully you will be able to see the drive in me.
Hopefully you will be able to see the fight in me.
Hopefully you will see the person that I am trying to be...come.
And all I will want you to say is
Home AloneHome Alone.Home Alone in Free Verse More Like This
Everything becomes so much more dark and sinister whenever you are alone.
You're constantly on guard and overcautious just to answer your mobile phone.
Any slight disturbance or eerie creak and you begin to panic.
Retreating back into your secure settee conjuring up the most dramatic
Scenarios that have virtually no possibility of ever occurring.
But that never seems to stop the cogs from continuously turning.
You fasten all the windows and arm yourself with kitchen based artillery.
And man your position surveying the living room as if you were a member of the military.
Increasing the volume on your television set to distract and block out the noises.
The local neighbors walk past your window but you class them as unfamiliar voices.
You can't help but be on edge until you have some sort of company.
But these common trains of thoughts are expected and customary.
I thought the same until I heard this one story about a girl called Anne.
She was in a similar situation; she was
Unconscious Epiphany.Unconscious Epiphany.Unconscious Epiphany. in Free Verse More Like This
I thrive and depend on your compliments
And it is only then as a direct consequence,
Am I truly able to write with confidence.
Even though your words are only temporary.
I deem your contribution as utterly necessary,
In order to refresh my wavering, selective memory.
My own validation depends on your approval.
Whether it is congratulatory or discouragingly brutal.
Your input is the one thing that is most crucial.
Can I call myself a writer if I don't believe in myself?
When I constantly seek approval from everyone else?
How can I then expect to make any sort of wealth?
Of a craft and skill I still think anyone is able to produce.
Is there any point in me putting my apparent talent to use?
When I limit and submit myself into a negative recluse.
I was told I must have self belief in order to achieve,
The dream that I am so desperately trying to receive.
The body can only accomplish what the mind believes.
I know I must rid myself from any form of self doubt.
Am I Worthy?Am I Worthy?Am I Worthy? in Free Verse More Like This
Maybe I don't deserve all the views and the comments.
Maybe there are better writers out there that deserve acknowledgment.
Maybe I am not worthy of any recognition and attention.
Personally I don't think my work is even worth mentioning.
Maybe my words wont amount to anything substantial.
Maybe I wont make it in terms of a financial,
Atonement but can we just think for one moment
That maybe I write to express my thoughts on a page.
To release all the feelings held hostage in this mortal cage.
Maybe others can relate and reciprocate my words.
And to you this notion may seem insulting and absurd.
But all these favourites and feed back gives me an added purpose.
And for that split second when reading them, I feel like I actually deserve this.
That my whole hearted words are not dispensable and worthless.
That maybe I can actually make something of myself.
Give the people something real to purchase from life's obscure shelf.
Give my parents the life that they so justly
ArtArt.Art in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
The world is your canvas.
Society is your paint brush.
The people are your choice of colours.
What kind of picture would you paint?
How would it differ from the image that is currently on show?
Would you go mad and rid yourself from all forms of restraint?
Just how far down the rabbit hole are you willing to go?
I ask because every portrait I create,
Is inspired by what is already in front of me.
So is it possible to even recreate,
Anything that the mind is not able to see.
The picture will always be the same
Because this life is all we know.
Where there is compassion there must be pain
Because it us who made it so.
Reality Verses The DreamReality Verses The Dream.Reality Verses The Dream in Free Verse More Like This
Above the confines of the earths atmosphere.
I am embraced by the luminous clouds.
With the stars in reaching distance.
Surrounded by the acoustics of the sea.
Accompanied by the alluring scents of nature.
Observing the planets that stand like monuments.
This is the place where my body wants to be.
These are the sights my eyes want to see.
This is place where my mind can be free.
This is the only place where I can truly be me.
Now back to reality.
And the self perpetuating insanity.
Constricted by the codes of a conscripted morality.
Living in a world that is drenched in disparity.
How will I ever be able to see any sort of clarity.
Below the discoloured and tarnished ceiling.
I am held captive by my dishevelled duvet.
With only material possessions at my grasp.
Surrounded by a hybrid of silence and vulgarity.
Accompanied by the foul scents of decay and pollution.
Observing a society that stand and act like naïve slaves.
This is the
SilenceSilence.Silence in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
A language that everyone speaks.
But one that we are not able to hear.
A place where emotions and abandonment meet.
Of which we are forced to confront our buried fears.
There are no more lessons that the agents of society can teach.
An infinite amount of words expressed through a solitary tear.
People dish out advice but never practise what they preach.
A language with the same traits as a hopeful prayer.
A society where people judge others, as they sit back in their self proclaimed seats.
They can no longer understand you and they aware of the darkness that draws near.
Many lives led but we are all accompanied by the same drumbeat
Maybe you don't want to be heard but people will forcefully lend an ear.
Lips fused together, unint
ObsoleteObsolete.Obsolete in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Everyone is too wrapped in their own lives to even care about yours.
But what they fail to remember is that this earth is only the first of many floors.
Tears cascade, smiles appear and fade while the universe continues to ignore,
As they impatiently knock and wait outside life's man made divisible door.
So when they become to self involved in the successes of their own cause.
SurvivalSurvival.Survival in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Give a man a fish he will eat for a day.
Teach a man to fish he will eat for a life time.
Give a man a gun he will rob a bank.
Give a man a bank he will rob the world.
We adapt and adjust.
Constantly dithering on the cusp
Of what is considered wrong and right,
Ensuring that our ambitions remain in sight.
We would be willing to do anything
In order to get what we truly desire.
We would be willing to risk everything
Even putting our friends in the line of fire.
We may share the bounty with others,
Allowing them to experience the fruitful taste.
Given the option we will even care for our brothers.
Just as long as we are well endowed with songs of praise.
We are opportunists.
We are convincing and ruthless.
We are the modern day Judas.
In absence of a poem.I chewed my pen to the nibIn absence of a poem. in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and swallowed the ink thoughtlessly,
but no matter how long I thought,
I couldn't say what you mean to me.
I tried, I tried and I tested,
every word in my diminutive range,
but I screwed up more pieces of paper
and happened upon something strange;
I noticed words, which have served me,
for all of my formative years,
had no power to convey my gratitude
for the times that you dried my tears.
Whenever I doubt myself (often),
You're the one who tells me I'm wrong
You lift up my chin and remind me, wait
for the good things that will come along.
I can't find a way to express how
you are the saving grace in my head.
So words can't tell you how I love you -
I hope my silence will tell you instead.
UndressedFog clingsUndressed in Free Verse More Like This
to paint all in pastel,
the hipbone curve
of a dusty mint hill,
with slate-grey trees
o’er the top.
of one-day saplings
the upright reminder
They pierce the fog.
They are sunk-deep
to stop the chiffon mist
from sticking –
the fog rolls on,
and leaves the sky
Expensive LiesI sit and stare at the toilet bowl.Expensive Lies in Free Verse More Like This
A guy I know is bulimic.
When we compliment him
I see the twist of agony in his eyes
as his brain reprograms it
to sound like an expensive lie
that costs him another tear
in his tattered dignity.
Friends hurry to him,
to reassure him, to love him.
They tell him how beautiful he is.
We didn't know him before,
but he's definitely not fat now.
We whisper things in concern like;
body dysmorphic disorder.
'I know you'll never believe me
but you are so gorgeous -
not just on the inside.' Not just.
And they're right, I join in,
because they are right to say it
because it happens to be true -
he is stunning. Not just on the outside.
And we want him to see himself
the way we see him, beautiful.
And I join in because
I've felt that strangle of pain
in my stomach, bowels and belly,
when someone used to tell me lies.
So I know how he feels.
Only, he is beautiful on the outside
and I'm not.
He's not seeing reality in the mirror
and I am.
And people rush to correc
The Elephant ManHe had elephant hands; swollen and tenderedThe Elephant Man in Free Verse More Like This
by old age and wiping away childrens' crying
so they were leathered and carefully painted
with a veneer of the dust made by old books,
but when he read to me the pages didn't shake
and his throat didn't contract about the words
like they were enemies to be spat out, bloodied.
Lungs didn't shiver and eyes didn't milk, then.
Now, I see love ephemeral. I see love half-dead
and carving its riverbed path, slowly eroding;
until it can rejoin oceans once known in heaven.
Now, I see him ephemeral. I see him half-living.
I see the fear of burdenship as the only thing
that makes his eyes flicker how Pernod used to.
I see a beautiful, crumpled drawing of my hero
as my grandfather slips, wearily, back to sleep.
WhoreI thread a vein out through a scalpel notch;Whore in Free Verse More Like This
and use it as a ribbon to present my heart to you.
I cough a little spare blood. I didn't need it.
I lick the copper from my silenced subterfuge mouth
and it reminds me of the prostitution of my soul
as I pour myself over other men's empty hands
in the dying hope that someone might hold on.
I smear my wrist against a digital canvas and cry;
I give it all to you freely, and nothing in return.
You smile. I break. You hear but you don't listen;
you just throw another single penny for my thoughts.
The Last LightAfter the lung shivers around a globule of fluid, rattling to dismiss it.The Last Light in Free Verse More Like This
After hallucination and disorientation, after the tears and words,
far after these poor man's indicators of consciousness have passed.
After the kidney droops raisin'd, bowing its head on its wilting stalk.
After the tepid heart brushes its vibrato through the body for a final time
and the resonance of that note dully hums through the mottled skin.
After the blurry murmurs of a destituted loved-one fades to tinnitus.
After it becomes nothing but sound (and then to nothing as much as that),
as the brain itself claws the inside of a skull for the semblance of a breath;
in the tipping moment between that and the culmination of a life well grown;
only then will hope, the last one to turn out the light inside, die.
How CharmingI'm desperate to find herHow Charming in Free Verse More Like This
to steal another kiss.
should be simpler than this.
The Car The car's front bumper was missing and it's face was collapsed and charred in such a way that it looked as if it had sucked it's lips into it's mouth after tasting lemon. The car's sour expression was not helped any by the slant of the windscreen wipers which added a defeated sullenity to the whole affair. The car stared with dead eyes across the heads of row after row of pretty suburban houses that collectively made the Esbrough Estate that lay, amid other debris, at the foot of the hill to which the car now belonged.The Car in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It sat, it watched, it rusted. Parts were stolen by adults, children and then birds. When a door fell off it became the home to a family of mice for two summers until the grass grew through the holes. The car died suddenly, but decomposed much slower than its owner, who quickly reverted to worms and forgot about the car entirely.
What a terrible thingSometimes life is painful,What a terrible thing in Free Verse More Like This
not for a discernible reason.
Not for a route to something better
or a perversive remedy
for a wound long forgotten.
Sometimes we drown in it,
in the not yet,
the not quite,
the not at all.
Sometimes even our eyelashes
are too heavy,
and keeping our eyes open enough
to see the truth is asking too much,
and other times?
Other times the truth is
the bacteria binding in your blood
beneath your skin
- it's inside -
and it knows how to feed off of you.
it wriggles until at last -
it lets its forceful pair of hands
slip tenderly under your ribcage
to compress -
down on your lungs
until they are flat
and stick to themselves,
and leave you gasping;
oh, oh the truth.
What a terrible thing!
A Thousand Words Paint A PictureI can’t draw nor paint.A Thousand Words Paint A Picture in Free Verse More Like This
My time is always wrong.
I’m always tongue-tied.
So I’ll reveal myself through words.
If a picture speaks a thousand words,
Then I’ll make
A thousand words paint a picture.
I’ll tell you of the sunrise,
The sunset, the twilight.
I’ll show you the magic,
Of the four seasons.
All in black and white.
Let the words I write paint a picture for you.
I’ll form the words,
As a maestro weave melodies together,
So you can understand my heart.
Will you see the picture between the lines of words that I have written just for you?
The picture of my feelings towards you.
If it's you...If it’s you ...If it's you... in Free Verse More Like This
I’m not good with words
I don’t express myself
My feelings go,
So I look at you,
That you can see
My eyes, filled with my thoughts of you
No one sees it, no one cares,
But if it’s you,
I’m sure you’ll understand
If it’s you
If it’s you…
Mid-terms NightmareMid-terms NightmareMid-terms Nightmare in Free Verse More Like This
Grammar mistakes in Language,
Formulas forgotten in Mathematics,
Facts mixed up in History,
Wrong oxidation numbers in Chemistry,
Failing in experiments in Biology,
Laws scrambled around in Physics.
Then I wake up,
Go back to sleep,
And dream them again.
I'm a PoetI'm a poet.I'm a Poet in Free Verse More Like This
And because I'm a poet,
I have the pride of a poet,
and the background of an artist.
Yes as a poet.
I am overlooked in the group
for the work that is drawn,
and the art that is colored by the painters
I am a writer
and though my words hold power
they are seen as nothing more than words
and never get brought to their original intent
I am a writer
whose every move is watched
whose art is critiqued harsher than others
who's still unknown as an artist
I am an author,
who wears my heart on my sleeve
who leaves everything bare to judgment
who never asks for more than is due
I am an artist,
but I don't always get treated as such
Discomfortblaring coldDiscomfort in Free Verse More Like This
chill of spine
are never good
will I see
and chill of spine
and aching mind
Wake up loveHush now,Wake up love in Free Verse More Like This
I'm sorry the dream must end.
It's time to wake up
and face the world.
Reality is harsh,
the people are cold,
that's how it is
and you must wake up.
For you have been asleep long enough.
Time to wake love,
and be with your people
they wait for you
and have never given up.
You can't let them down.
The alarm's going off,
and reality is waiting.
You are only human
and cannot do much
but everyone is important
and life is waiting just for you.
Can you hear their cries?
And the bellows of pain?
You can stop them
but only if you wake up.
It's time to wake up love,
and face the world.
They cry for your return
and you can't let them down.
Monster in the BasementThe being under the basement cries at nightMonster in the Basement in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
calling out for one simple friend that it cannot have
family above ignores what it cannot see
except the little boy who hears the screams in dark hours.
Solitary hours after dusk, before dawn
child of man travels down to see the beast that wept
bringing offerings of peace, words of comfort
friendship built on mutual loneliness was molded.
Talks late at night, stars overhead burning light
exciting tales of adventures to be had
but thoughts were simply just thoughts, never to happen together
and tales in the dark were simply that, tales.
Yet the child didn’t know the importance of secrets
family was anything but kind for the monster friend.
Monsters that were unlike the people of normalcy
are unwelcome to the family of the child of man.
Horror couldn’t get away fast enough
family strung him up and though he screamed
family didn’t care for the pain of a monster
who couldn’t feel any pain either way.
Monster lost his child
The DoctorThe Doctor in Short Stories More Like This
"Doctor?" I questioned uneasily. The figures and faces around me nodded, shifting around unsettlingly as if staying still was too much work for them
"I don't need a Doctor, I'm fine." I had no desire to see the Doctor. Even the title sent shivers down my spine.
"We know dear, but we were thinking that some people mature faster than others, and that maybe you should see the Doctor earlier," one of the figures said. I couldn't even see them, for I was seated in a hard chair that dug into my back while everyone else was crowed around me. Their like faces and similar statures all began to blur into one solid black surrounding of grey and more grey. Even their voices were beginning to blend together.
"I don't want to see the Doctor though."
And I truly didn't. There were so many rumors about that place, the place called the hospital. I heard that when people entered they didn't come back the same again, that they Doctor messed with their minds and changed them into unfeeling robots for the
AtticI went through the attic todayAttic in Free Verse More Like This
just to see the memories that lie.
Inside a box there was nothing
but cobwebs and fickle dust.
Yet in a corner of the room
there is the most beautiful memory,
photo albums of love
and presents from trips long ago.
I do not have to read the letters of love
for their words have long since been memorized.
A little stuffed lion
won at the circus,
shall sit in my lap
and remember along with me.
Never stitched in love this lion was,
but love was what it was meant to feel.
So as I sit and look,
from albums of old,
and presents from trips,
and letters of love,
and my lion in my lap,
I cry happy tears
at the memories that have passed.
'Darling, come downstairs!'
I can almost hear your voice shout below.
'Dear! You are never going to believe
the memories that I just unearthed.
Let's look together, and relive the old
and maybe then my tears for memories past
can become tears for something new.'
DarlingLove, today you shall not die,Darling in Free Verse More Like This
because you are my light
and to live without you
is to live without hope.
lying cold and dead,
I will give my life for you
as I swore on our wedding day.
May God take my prayer
and listen for my soul
instead of yours.
My sins shall pay for our crimes
through my own death.
I will die for you
For I know this is my fate.
Drawings"Drawings"Drawings in Free Verse More Like This
I drew on the walls
when life wasn’t enough
the drawings were scribbles
that made no simple sense
yet when I drew they came alive
my heart and soul expressed
pretty ponies and dinosaurs
all simple scribbles of mine
when the parent returned
and saw my mess
the blood that stained
drew a prettier picture than
my simple scribbles
HistoryThere are momentsHistory in Free Verse More Like This
that you wish never end
Then there are moments
that couldn't go by fast enough.
Through at the times we have seen
and all the lives we have lived.
Time seems to be
the one thing that never changes.
Time likes to repeat itself
going hour by hour, second by second.
They say, today is history
but tomorrow is a mystery.
History likes to repeat itself,
so maybe tomorrow isn't such a mystery.
WeWe walk between empty mirrors, gracing those who have foreseen our lives.We in Free Verse More Like This
We slither alongside shadows, banishing newborns from their knives.
Forsaken, our prey shriek, their joyful souls are forevermore meek.
Though, within them lies fear, a fear that we wish to seek.
Their speechless eyes wander aimlessly through our coats of despair and doom, seeing all with blind transparency except a cloud of gloom.
Our knowledge exceeds their beings, their fear is given without a fee.
Thus, always and forever shall we strike them down with glee.
MyselfThe jar of tears has fallen to pieces, lost are the memories from within the creases.Myself in Free Verse More Like This
They've all abandoned me, my silent friends, our bonds have withered beyond their ends.
So predictable this scene truly was, the girl who fell from not a single cause.
Twas my own fault, for I banished all help, rotted to pieces within myself.
Though alas a mark has been etched within stones, "My soul lives forever without my bones."
Thou Shall BurnClench my soul, go right ahead; ignite your flesh and I shall deem you dead.Thou Shall Burn in Free Verse More Like This
Dance with fire and thou shalt be burned, scorched to deformity with your soul never returned.
Exceed your limits, turn away your falls, shall the trials begin beneath the walls?
Oh yes, they shall, my dearest thing, for your fate will rest within this ebony ring.
Such glory was enthralled into my soul, how you plead for its power, its superiority, its toll.
Though alas you've proven not worthy of it all, hence your death shall be remarkable, forever now you shall fall.
The CrowBirthed before the white flames of snow, is a crow of intellect with a darkened glow.The Crow in Free Verse More Like This
A glow from the shadows, deathly and grey, it dwells within souls of the crow's mindless prey.
Such blood-filled specimens without a clue or a light, they wander the deep oceans without knowledge of fright.
Dimensions of fear drown their pitiful eyes, the crow only watches them from above the black skies.
It scavenges their bodies and devours their hearts, nevermore seeing humanity as it ignores and departs.
The CloakRobbed from buried clocks and the dear bird of elegancy, was a shining cloak of magnificence; pure transparency.The Cloak in Free Verse More Like This
Its radiance brought upon wars of banishing, many secrets thrust forward and insanely vanishing.
Thus began the quest for the cloak, years of investigations had blinded all into smoke.
Though alas the cloak remains still intact, silently folded and within my soul, packed.
The TaleFingers stitched together by misfortune and still sages, here lies a tale with unopened pages.The Tale in Free Verse More Like This
Few filled with reasoning and joyful endings of rhyme, the majority fall upon stakes and grant their souls to time.
Phrases and fragments cast themselves within the lines, striking out and down the beautiful ones through a connection of ancient signs.
And alas none shall ever read it, this book so dark yet divine, hence I shall take it for myself, thus my soul is an unread rhyme.
HerBeneath twisted vines of exceptional lies, exists a simplistic immortal who dares not speak.Her in Free Verse More Like This
Her covered eyes release an echo, one that frightens and silences the weak.
And why dost thou hide from her in the clouds, is it to bypass her howls and shrieks?
Is your fear that condensed, must you avoid her being, or are you simply one of the weak?
It does not matter, not anymore, for her immortality is dominance; thou art no more.
ForgottenForgottenForgotten in Free Verse More Like This
I do not see you, have you left me behind?
Did something more spectacular enthrall your mind?
It seems that way, for I am not blind, you've left me here to rot and bind.
To lurk in the shadows and be caught in the rains, you've left me to burden all of your pains.
Forgotten I'll be, trapped in the dark, but that's alright for my soul is stark.
The DrowningTo the lake of dead serenity, so harsh, wintry, and pale, my sinking ship grudgingly dances without a single, tarnished sail.The Drowning in Free Verse More Like This
For I am utmost weary and always searching a way to my coming demise; never displayed in the public's horrid view, I truly loathe their lively cries.
I swim to the bottom, around the dead bodies, never glancing up to eye the land again; the water calls to me, whispering my existence, it's now the clock to determine the pain.
A tombstone and shackles sleep endlessly down, to them I see the way, I stand in Death's hands, so brittle yet immense; my drowning is initiated today.
The shackles clench tightly to my sickly ankles, the tombstone etches the placement and roll; assuring not a breath is drawn from my body, I clench the organs from my very soul.
The final glimpse of dark moonlight shatters, darkness gives way to my closing eyes; a bubble implodes on the rotting surface, Death's toll had been paid without the lies.
ForeverForeverForever in Free Verse More Like This
Well, here I am, still lurking in the endless dark.
You still seem to be consumed by the beauty of something grand, not stark.
I still lie here with your endless pains, they speak to me of death.
A death so grand it could shatter souls, remove one's each and every breath.
I wonder now if your soul is worth the time needed to initiate this end.
My dear I shall soon find out, for I am nevermore your friend.
i'm too young to be running out of dreamsthe brave kidsi'm too young to be running out of dreams in Free Verse More Like This
tore them in half
& the pretty
but it was a secret for us
that the other
was really blue &
there was a note
in salt water & drowning
for the benefit of the
so we came with a solution:
tear the wings &
bleed them out
kafka has been dead foreveri.kafka has been dead forever in Free Verse More Like This
I am going to cut the veins out of my neck:
pull the stars from the legaments
drown the cities in bruises
I am going to burn in hell:
tear down the pyramids, the faces, the continents
the weight of the universe
(if I live to be 20
I will know the landscape of my mind
as well as the bottom of the ocean
& people I've never met)
can you tell me real thingsi didn't bother to ask you for anything this yearcan you tell me real things in Free Verse More Like This
(even if black friday lasts all week
and dirt is cheaper on christmas eve)
no matter the cliche--
what i want you can't find in a store
the sound of bursting glass
and the strings of light out-of-focus
the bleeding hands
the burning eyes
two minutes at the bottom of the oceani open my eyes and the room is underwatertwo minutes at the bottom of the ocean in Free Verse More Like This
a refraction of light--
tail flicked & then the sediment settles
like dysentery, this narcoleptic soul
to pulse, spin
into a paralysis of the
this is the pressure that creaks in my bones:
this is the space between my mouth and my mind
& the few centimeters between my ears are pulsing
with the things I cannot get to my hands
but my head is not a fucking ocean:
it's a flaw in chemistry
it only lasts a little whileat the bottomit only lasts a little while in Free Verse More Like This
in the desperate
sunlight & waves
cut by ships
trembling as the water
hollow bodies restless
waiting for the sun
i can make you love mewriters,i can make you love me in Free Verse More Like This
do you bend in
shaking with leaves?
a sinner's devotion
or that boy
in the other aisle
(i hold your books
and stroke the pages,
they haven't arrived:
(that was forty-five
hoping no one notices
that i've read this
as i watch him
slip behind the counter
(i devised a plan to
volunteer on fridays
and trap him)
as i read
for the fifteenth
no one is ever going to want memaybe onceno one is ever going to want me in Free Verse More Like This
this would've been
but i'm crying &
my face is scrunched
like a red rag
in the sink
slumped beneath a leaky
my hands are shaking
maybe i could make
but what i have
you won't like
and do you want them too?
stealing & paying
pressing bottles and
pictures to my sternum
maybe it's the silence
the tumult of words down
the sink and
across the floor
the empty heads
i was pretty then
bird-legs and stilted poems
numbering stars and
crushing books between
but no not today
i'm a husk
waiting for everything
to destroy me
to prick a hole
start an earthquake
you make me write bad poetryi made you upyou make me write bad poetry in Free Verse More Like This
from pillows and comforters
and anything that stuck
its tongue out from
and slept in
next year i will shy away
like a child
when you touch me--
if you know me
(and you probably do)
seems very in-character
but it's not like what
happened in the bookstore when
put your teeth against my ear
and everything felt
like it did last week
in the treehouse
it all seems so out of
like i am a little girl again
and pretending i know what those
funny words that taste
like soap and dirt
and what we are
you can't have it allBut you can have eating wild grapes and their skin like beetle wingsyou can't have it all in Free Verse More Like This
cocooned in bruises. You can have swings that go so high you kick
a hole in the clouds. You can have chickens following you through the front door
and the cat’s gift to say, Look, I am taking care of you.
You can have happiness, but tempered as
your first taste of wine when you hid your puckering face
because you were eight years old and dangerous.
You can have a touch you blush for, ferret hands dancing,
small and terrifying and knowledgable.
You can have an aspiration of “us” held on one stool leg, darting breaths but
never admitting to dreams, to a stew of practicality.
You can talk to her, sometimes,
and even mean something.
You can have the book you stole after she stumbled,
and “that” word sank into your hands. You can’t cure cancer,
but you can have two sets of spoons in the same sink
although she’s only touched the one you lent her,
the one you didn’t expe
will you ever learn to love yourselfshe was deadwill you ever learn to love yourself in Free Verse More Like This
before she hit the ground
frazzled & 60 percent water
or whatever you call them
brimming on the bus & never
haven’t you ever seen clouds before?’
she threw a handful of stones
sinking like balloons
a hungry ghost
tracing the outline
of a breaking surface
.my red pen exploded. in Free Verse More Like This
all over my hands and the page
and my first thought is that it looks like blood and you know,
that's fitting because isn't that
what writing is?
life written on a page,
tears and pain
my hands are stained
and so is my heart
so i write
and i write
and i write
and hope that someday
Mirror, MirrorMirror, mirror, on the wall,Mirror, Mirror in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Who is fairest of them all?
Not the girl in you I see.
Unless you lie, it is not me.
Mirror, mirror, do you lie?
Am I that twisted deep inside?
Warped reflections, happy masks.
Don't let my eyes betray my past.
Mirror, mirror, may I ask?
Who am I in your looking-glass?
I see a girl both scarred and sad,
An empty life with joy not had.
Mirror, mirror, let me be.
Shatter the glass and set me free.
No longer do I want your lies;
Contempt and loathing, compromise.
Mirror, mirror, can't you see?
I'm not what you make me out to be.
My scars and flaws I must confess,
But have I beauty, nontheless?
yet another untitled poem!It’s four in the morningyet another untitled poem! in Free Verse More Like This
And I sit at my laptop,
Spilling my soul
Into my word processor.
It’s easier to write
When your hand doesn’t cramp up
From writing with that bothersome pen
(I mean face it, no one ever uses pencils
Except for math and theatre).
And when the ink doesn’t smudge all over your hands
And your notebook.
And when you don’t have to deal with your own handwriting,
Peering closely at the page
To make out and understand all the arrows
And notes written on the sides.
Sometimes a pen and paper
Are the best way to express
What’s buried deep inside,
But this young generation
Is used to everything being simplified
And more convenient.
Because we are underestimated,
And as such,
The world dumbs everything down
Until we begin
Writers Block and Feelings.Blocked.Writers Block and Feelings. in Free Verse More Like This
Just to write,
To let words out.
But the page stays blank.
So much has happened so fast.
So much guilt, shame, dreaming, and fun.
So how can it be so hard just
To let my words flow like they used to?
It’s when I’m in an emotional state that I write,
But I’m so stuck there right now that all
Of my words and thoughts are muddled up,
Afraid to become untangled from each other.
Writing has always been my expression,
But somehow now it seems
That even that expression
Is losing clarity.
God of Evanescence!! + Wanna be featured??Heey!God of Evanescence!! + Wanna be featured?? in Personal More Like This
You all probably know my picture "God of Evanescence":
It is just amazing how many artists reinterpreted/drew this character by me! Just have a look at all these awesome pictures!:
It makes me so happy to see, that artists got inspired by my picture!!
So, if you are inspired to draw your version of my character as well, go for it!! I will feature all the pictures, that are drawn for me on my homepage.. FOREVER!! That could mean a lot of clicks and new watchers for you! ^^ But dont let that be your main intention, you should feel inspired and have fun drawing it! Just dont forget to credit me, if you are drawing my OC! ^^ And send me a note with your finished picture!
Oh and in other news: For the ones, who didnt read my last journal: I am now on facebook! I will post my artworks, WI
WE NEED YOUR HELP!!Heyyy!!WE NEED YOUR HELP!! in Personal More Like This
You know I really support my sister.. She is an extremely talented artist and she wants to establish herself with her art.. She created a "1 Million Likes"-post on facebook and this could be her breakthrough! Please people, it would mean THE WORLD if you helped us by sharing and liking the post! There will also be 7 winners of free commissions by her!!
Here is the post: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=577027998974219&set=a.398558616821159.98223.398407720169582&type=1&theater
It only takes 10 seconds people And it would make her and me so happy!!!!
CUTE Livewallpaper :DHeey!CUTE Livewallpaper :D in Personal More Like This
MrFarts just made a new livewallpaper out of my "Can I sleep in your bed tonight"-monster Its for android devices and can be downloaded here FOR FREE: https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.mrfarts.lwp6
Hope you like it!
STREAM OFFLINE*edit: The stream is now offline! It was so much fun though, thanks for all you awesome people!! *STREAM OFFLINE in Personal More Like This
This is actually the first time I am doing a live webcam stream + live painting in Photoshop! It will be without volume, but you will be able to see my hyper concentrated or bored face while drawing.. haha xD Also you can ask me all kinds of questions and I will probably do some request drawings, so if you have some spare time, feel free to join me! Here is the link: https://join.me/667-308-148 (I am wearing fake nerd glasses btw... haha)
Oh gosh.. Probably I will draw only crap while all of you are watching me.. haha xD But thats not the point, lets just have fun!!
Watercolor process VIDEO on YOUTUBE :DI just did a process video of how I paint my watercolor "Spirits of the seasons" You can have a look here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FClzZE34B64&feature=youtu.beWatercolor process VIDEO on YOUTUBE :D in Personal More Like This
If you like the video, pleeaase subscribe us!
I will be leaving dA for two years..Hey my awesome watchers and friends!I will be leaving dA for two years.. in Personal More Like This
Well, yes, like the title says, I will be leaving dA for two years as of the 18th of April, so in about a week. This is a tough decision, as dA has become an important part of my life, because I am actually trying to build up a living with my art. But you should know, that I am a Mormon (Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.. ) and I am 18, close to 19, so I am going on a mission. That means I will be going to the Alpine region (Switzerland, Austria, South-Germany) and talk to the people about what I believe in. You have to know, that this is something I carefully considered and I have a strong belief in God and so I want to share the joy my religion has brought me. The mission will be for two years and I wont have the time to upload any art to dA. My sister PixieCold will keep you up to date through journals on my page here, so you know what I am doing and how my life is going!
Please, if you disagree with