andy-fichus - Hello Poetry

Underneath the floorboards, right around the corner There's a devil in my house, he revels in disorder A sordid merchant peddling portents as false as they're spun Muttering curses, convinced I am worthless by his serpent tongue Wicked words flickering like lantern light, my eyes and ears deceived There's a devil in my house and he will not let me leave Windows boarded up by memories, what sights I see bring little piece A leather noose, an iron roulette; I'm tortured by tools of forfeit There's a devil in my house and he'd sooner **** me than let me forget There's a devil in my house with nothing more of me left

0

Feb 9, 2024

Feb 9, 2024 at 4:19 PM UTC

THERE'S A DEVIL IN MY HOUSE

Underneath the floorboards, right around the corner There's a devil in my house, he revels in disorder A sordid merchant peddling portents as false as they're spun Muttering curses, convinced I am worthless by his serpent tongue Wicked words flickering like lantern light, my eyes and ears deceived There's a devil in my house and he will not let me leave Windows boarded up by memories, what sights I see bring little piece A leather noose, an iron roulette; I'm tortured by tools of forfeit There's a devil in my house and he'd sooner **** me than let me forget There's a devil in my house with nothing more of me left

10

The lighting was dim Blue and purple flickers of them And she's got him writing again Fighting against the lion within Thought he triumphed but she isn't convinced Writing again, writing against time and my Highest of sins, lied while spitting sighs Under my breath like thunder she crumpled again Again but against missing, fistful of quarters I've been wishing i can fix this with kissing Bed making and hand holding and stove cooking She loved again and I was against infinites Two years late to a wedding picture by a kitchenette Two years too late, too sorry, too much to forgive I'm writing again. Fighting against who I have been So you can look me in the eye and say you love me again

0

Oct 24, 2021

Oct 24, 2021 at 11:18 AM UTC

WRITING AGAIN

The lighting was dim Blue and purple flickers of them And she's got him writing again Fighting against the lion within Thought he triumphed but she isn't convinced Writing again, writing against time and my Highest of sins, lied while spitting sighs Under my breath like thunder she crumpled again Again but against missing, fistful of quarters I've been wishing i can fix this with kissing Bed making and hand holding and stove cooking She loved again and I was against infinites Two years late to a wedding picture by a kitchenette Two years too late, too sorry, too much to forgive I'm writing again. Fighting against who I have been So you can look me in the eye and say you love me again

16

She believed in us I believed in time Ours like diamonds and mines Her's now lost for me to find The look she once gave me, a distant memory Missing histories she pieced together to better remember me Or better to bury, scary to think forever might never be Open mouth stare as I bare it all for her to see Star crossed, arms crossed, heart tossing and turning at sea Has she heard this before? Maybe the statement but not the cadence Every word faced with shame in its placement I'm back again, a villain tragic, a magician rabbitless No tricks, no sleeves, only a quarter fits between these teeth No lie spit, no sigh sent down only my love at your feet No rhyme or reason for treason, please know I mean it I meant but this time I mean it with more conviction I'll pay for my sins with each sentence, wishing for an ending "What perfect ending we'd be" How imperfect that church is Let me rebuild it again, my consistence the foundation A new cathedral for us to sing in. I believe in us Maybe she'll give it time

0

Oct 13, 2021

Oct 13, 2021 at 8:35 PM UTC

LOSS / OUR CATHEDRAL II

She believed in us I believed in time Ours like diamonds and mines Her's now lost for me to find The look she once gave me, a distant memory Missing histories she pieced together to better remember me Or better to bury, scary to think forever might never be Open mouth stare as I bare it all for her to see Star crossed, arms crossed, heart tossing and turning at sea Has she heard this before? Maybe the statement but not the cadence Every word faced with shame in its placement I'm back again, a villain tragic, a magician rabbitless No tricks, no sleeves, only a quarter fits between these teeth No lie spit, no sigh sent down only my love at your feet No rhyme or reason for treason, please know I mean it I meant but this time I mean it with more conviction I'll pay for my sins with each sentence, wishing for an ending "What perfect ending we'd be" How imperfect that church is Let me rebuild it again, my consistence the foundation A new cathedral for us to sing in. I believe in us Maybe she'll give it time

23

Heavy is the head that could fill up a tome Memories turn bitter, tormented to hold Crown ornamented with glitter and gold Riddled with scolding cinders and coal Meant for winter to temper the cold Tinder, I'm told, burns like whispers of home A whisper I've known, You've been missing I know.

0

Sep 20, 2021

Sep 20, 2021 at 2:46 AM UTC

Idk

Heavy is the head that could fill up a tome Memories turn bitter, tormented to hold Crown ornamented with glitter and gold Riddled with scolding cinders and coal Meant for winter to temper the cold Tinder, I'm told, burns like whispers of home A whisper I've known, You've been missing I know.

8

They always think they can. Distortions sold in a fortune cookie I am a fortunate man.

0

Sep 14, 2021

Sep 14, 2021 at 5:05 PM UTC

Fix Me

They always think they can. Distortions sold in a fortune cookie I am a fortunate man.

3

Lost in the garden Leaves loosened from the branches Nothing sacred but the trees And the light through your lashes

0

Dec 11, 2019

Dec 11, 2019 at 7:26 PM UTC

Sunday

Lost in the garden Leaves loosened from the branches Nothing sacred but the trees And the light through your lashes

4

No one will ever love you like me And that's for the best

0

Apr 4, 2018

Apr 4, 2018 at 4:42 PM UTC

better off

No one will ever love you like me And that's for the best

2

Love. A dangerous, cantankerous thing. No anchor is made for this Pen and paper blamed for it, if I had a name for it If I had a name for it, then I would be a slave for it She said that I scoff too often That I'm often too lost in the moment The moment we first met, she smelled like a poem. Like loose leaves in the fall. She had me falling like a paper plane with clipped wings Winging it onstage because I reached the spotlight and forgot all my lines She said it was fine. She never liked my acting anyway She said if she wanted to date a phony, she would have gone for Oscar or Tony If she wanted a Golden Globe she wouldn't have settled for a Lemonhead She said I'm too sweet. That my lips look like strawberry fields and my kisses taste like forever. Yeah, she's a Beatles fan. I was more of a fan of needles. On a syringe binge, she was my heroine in a red dress I wanted her address to correspond with where my head rested I wanted to take the rings from my eyes and wrap them around her finger so she would know she was the reason I couldn’t sleep at night She said I was her knight in shining armor. Like a page from a fairy tale Love. If I had a name for it, maybe I could’ve changed for it Played the game a different way and kept her away from it Her laughter was supposed to be my happily ever after. But it was stifled by heaven's rifleman Like lightning striking twice and thunder had the audacity to applaud She said I'm going home. I'm going back to God. She said that this was the plan all along and if I'm ever longing for her face then I need to face the facts, retrace our steps and reenact for a friend. This isn't the end. This is just a long-lost friend coming back to visit, isn’t it? Cold hands gripping getting wet. Blurred vision, can I see her yet? Timid lemonhead pressed against her wilting smile She asked what were the first lines I remember writing about her… Roses are red Violets are blue Every road has led me to you She said that I scoff too often That I'm often too lost in the moment to know when she's gone The moment she left. She smelled like a poem. Like loose leaves in the fall I'm falling from cloud nine, the wind constantly reminding me that she was never mine And if she was His the whole time, she should have told me. Because now… Now I have no one to hold me when I drop No one to scold me when I scoff No one to write a poem about when I'm lost If I had a name for it, my mother would tell me to pray for it. Ain’t that a shame that I am to blame for it? What’s in a name but a home and a place to grow? Every passing season gives me a reason too... Spring showers, summer sun, and winter cold Hold my name in contempt and place the blame ...she smelled like a poem. Like lost leaves when she fell for me. Love.

0

Mar 31, 2018

Mar 31, 2018 at 11:50 AM UTC

Artistic Intent

Love. A dangerous, cantankerous thing. No anchor is made for this Pen and paper blamed for it, if I had a name for it If I had a name for it, then I would be a slave for it She said that I scoff too often That I'm often too lost in the moment The moment we first met, she smelled like a poem. Like loose leaves in the fall. She had me falling like a paper plane with clipped wings Winging it onstage because I reached the spotlight and forgot all my lines She said it was fine. She never liked my acting anyway She said if she wanted to date a phony, she would have gone for Oscar or Tony If she wanted a Golden Globe she wouldn't have settled for a Lemonhead She said I'm too sweet. That my lips look like strawberry fields and my kisses taste like forever. Yeah, she's a Beatles fan. I was more of a fan of needles. On a syringe binge, she was my heroine in a red dress I wanted her address to correspond with where my head rested I wanted to take the rings from my eyes and wrap them around her finger so she would know she was the reason I couldn’t sleep at night She said I was her knight in shining armor. Like a page from a fairy tale Love. If I had a name for it, maybe I could’ve changed for it Played the game a different way and kept her away from it Her laughter was supposed to be my happily ever after. But it was stifled by heaven's rifleman Like lightning striking twice and thunder had the audacity to applaud She said I'm going home. I'm going back to God. She said that this was the plan all along and if I'm ever longing for her face then I need to face the facts, retrace our steps and reenact for a friend. This isn't the end. This is just a long-lost friend coming back to visit, isn’t it? Cold hands gripping getting wet. Blurred vision, can I see her yet? Timid lemonhead pressed against her wilting smile She asked what were the first lines I remember writing about her… Roses are red Violets are blue Every road has led me to you She said that I scoff too often That I'm often too lost in the moment to know when she's gone The moment she left. She smelled like a poem. Like loose leaves in the fall I'm falling from cloud nine, the wind constantly reminding me that she was never mine And if she was His the whole time, she should have told me. Because now… Now I have no one to hold me when I drop No one to scold me when I scoff No one to write a poem about when I'm lost If I had a name for it, my mother would tell me to pray for it. Ain’t that a shame that I am to blame for it? What’s in a name but a home and a place to grow? Every passing season gives me a reason too... Spring showers, summer sun, and winter cold Hold my name in contempt and place the blame ...she smelled like a poem. Like lost leaves when she fell for me. Love.

48

Feathers and wax across my back like a cheap crucifixion I'm used to drifting too close to a euphemism My youth is missing. Is That you I'm missing? Call a truce so I can get used to living You have this fool's permission to choose to listen The cruelest mission, begging you to forget what you have witnessed Undue retention, how to undo the tension Between two tendons I never thought to mention How I'm lost in a pit with crimson pitch and A godless pen. How odd is this fiction if we've lived it?

0

Jan 6, 2018

Jan 6, 2018 at 11:30 AM UTC

Probably

Feathers and wax across my back like a cheap crucifixion I'm used to drifting too close to a euphemism My youth is missing. Is That you I'm missing? Call a truce so I can get used to living You have this fool's permission to choose to listen The cruelest mission, begging you to forget what you have witnessed Undue retention, how to undo the tension Between two tendons I never thought to mention How I'm lost in a pit with crimson pitch and A godless pen. How odd is this fiction if we've lived it?

10

How vile, how evil to live beneath your veil

0

Dec 7, 2017

Dec 7, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC

Untitled

How vile, how evil to live beneath your veil

1