carson-bell
American
I'm a dancer. But I have a passion for dancing with my words as well. I write poetry to help myself better understand what I am feeling. I take pride in the things I do and always try to focus on the positive. Feel free to comment on my poems, for it will be greatly appreciated:)
his Eyes are the leafy root of a carrot,
Portals to the sustenance underground.
his Feet are bare but determined to go far.
his mouth is a canopy to a dense forest
Hiding from the world, what lays inside.
his flyaway hair, like a fallen piece of bark,
an imperfection that's part of a perfect picture.
his Thoughts are raindrops pouring off of an elephant leaf,
Small indentations flowing from a vast expanse.
his Voice is the wind, carrying me away to a better place.
his Charisma is Grandfather Mountain who holds old wisdom,
ever durable through the storm.
his Past, a collection of sand,
is molding into a seashell that will take a lifetime to form.
his Soul is a pinecone,
Guarded on the outside but holds something precious to me.
Sep 23, 2011
Sep 23, 2011 at 8:33 AM UTC
Trapped inside a box
seeking to round its edges
teeming to rid its conformity
it obeys like a slave to its master
bubbling hatred gets stirred by cruelty
that spreads like venom
lies entangle your every word
as you build upon a faulty foundation
of this relationship
warm tears mark paths down my face
trapped inside a box
struggling to round its edges
as it envelops every last drop
of the will to survive
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 10:40 PM UTC
there It is
as big as Goliath
It stands, monstrous and menacing
waiting for the chance to strike
at those unfortunate enough to cross Its path
It watches my eyes as i look for an exit
It's as dark as the days without sun
It slithers like the Serpent from the garden
i see my chance and run. run so fast and away from this beast
that lizard was no match for me and my sligshot.
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 10:37 PM UTC
Standing so free hanging close to the edge
In waves of people I hear still silence
Taking a last valiant leap off the ledge
now savoring the wind’s subtle violence
we've entered the sea of dark crimson red
guiding us through open blue that we trust
so close to the sky we might hit our head
realizing your defiantly august
i follow your lead and you follow mine
traveling further into the expanse
wishing there was not a concept of time
good things always end with no second chance
you take me back where you found me before,
descrying the sound of the crowds once more.
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 10:34 PM UTC
The blinding lights
shine on glistening faces.
Applause fills the air as music ceases.
I recreate this scene again and again.
My body emulates sentences
with. periods, and commas.
We do this to plant a picture
in their minds.
Constantly evolving,
DANCE is an expression
of the way we feelwhen we fly free
without wings to carry us.
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 10:32 PM UTC
weary from the hate stares, i try to sleep.
this beds harshness intolerable, no more comfortable dreams.
In a world full of color, i can only experience grey.
devoured by sirens, shouts, but the silence overwhelms me,
while the stench of oppression seeps out from every corner
i can still taste what i am not allowed,
but who cares? I am just something akin to animal now.
(references to novel Black Like Me)
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 10:28 PM UTC
let them dance
with masks on their face.
let them hide
behind the music,
inside their turtle shells.
but I still crave
still crave the feeling of freedom
still itch to burst out above the surface
still edge to stretch my wings
to take off my mask
let them feel safe
just a masked confession of the heart
dancing to the rhthym
content with prosaic waltz
but I still crave
still crave to tango and salsa
still prefer to breathe passionately
still choosing sprinkles over vanilla
to unveil what is under the mask
to be Real. and Me. and Original.
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 9:54 PM UTC