chaziyer - Hello Poetry

In my dream you were a savior, who conquered the world with words and sought a painters sky that didn't belong to envious stars. In my dream you were the light, who checked both shoes before stepping in and smiled fearlessly at the monsters who dared to fall within. In my dream you were a musician, who gave bats gypsy bells that lulled the moon asleep and birds sonnets to keep the sun awake. In my dream you were the ocean, whose waves roared in an hourglass and tilted gems on melted sheets of sand. In my dream you were the wind, who curled itself around me and whispered stories beyond the company of grass. In my dream this was you who used to check both shoes (before stepping in).

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Oct 16, 2017

Oct 16, 2017 at 7:53 PM UTC

chaziyer

A Childhood Play: Check Both Shoes Before Stepping In

In my dream you were a savior, who conquered the world with words and sought a painters sky that didn't belong to envious stars. In my dream you were the light, who checked both shoes before stepping in and smiled fearlessly at the monsters who dared to fall within. In my dream you were a musician, who gave bats gypsy bells that lulled the moon asleep and birds sonnets to keep the sun awake. In my dream you were the ocean, whose waves roared in an hourglass and tilted gems on melted sheets of sand. In my dream you were the wind, who curled itself around me and whispered stories beyond the company of grass. In my dream this was you who used to check both shoes (before stepping in).

24

Butterfly kisses in the rain and the universe becomes a waterfall.

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Oct 16, 2017

Oct 16, 2017 at 7:38 PM UTC

chaziyer

Scribbles

Butterfly kisses in the rain and the universe becomes a waterfall.

2

Life was going slower than a penny rolling across the floor. In a palace glazed with porcelain-- pools of azure and gold-- And a prince far too young for the throne. Yes, life was going slower than a penny rolling across the floor... (9.13.14)

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Oct 16, 2017

Oct 16, 2017 at 7:27 PM UTC

chaziyer

Stripped Bark

Life was going slower than a penny rolling across the floor. In a palace glazed with porcelain-- pools of azure and gold-- And a prince far too young for the throne. Yes, life was going slower than a penny rolling across the floor... (9.13.14)

6

Drunk with anger were the eyes that blinked his thirst and hunger were his last mistake. As he stood at the edge of the world-- his creation in his hand made of glass that slipped between the fingers of time. And fell-- was his last artifact of perfection.

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Oct 15, 2017

Oct 15, 2017 at 12:57 AM UTC

chaziyer

Statue

Drunk with anger were the eyes that blinked his thirst and hunger were his last mistake. As he stood at the edge of the world-- his creation in his hand made of glass that slipped between the fingers of time. And fell-- was his last artifact of perfection.

11

If the Universe were a man in a trench coat then his lair would be a carved-out pumpkin with triangle windows and a candle as a kitchen Perhaps we would all know when our time would come and death would take bribes as the devil coincides with all of the good. Maybe we would all have a piece of knowledge in our hands.

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Oct 15, 2017

Oct 15, 2017 at 12:46 AM UTC

chaziyer

Knowledge

If the Universe were a man in a trench coat then his lair would be a carved-out pumpkin with triangle windows and a candle as a kitchen Perhaps we would all know when our time would come and death would take bribes as the devil coincides with all of the good. Maybe we would all have a piece of knowledge in our hands.

8

If only I could tell you how much the spiders on my eyes appreciate you, then the sentences that hang in the air would be pinned to the ceiling and the cigarette would still be unlit in the corner by the lamp.

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Oct 15, 2017

Oct 15, 2017 at 12:31 AM UTC

chaziyer

Burnt Orange

If only I could tell you how much the spiders on my eyes appreciate you, then the sentences that hang in the air would be pinned to the ceiling and the cigarette would still be unlit in the corner by the lamp.

9

&the world was small compared to that of hearts and flowers And poems were only whispers among the trees that you weaved with your frail F I N G E R T I P S You are the bright light against pale paint, the tiny curve in the corners of a smile-- the quiet S H A D O W S in the pages of a book You are all the beautiful things --if ever eternally-- (so slightly your life flickered) you are. (2.22.15)

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Oct 15, 2017

Oct 15, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC

chaziyer

if ever eternally

&the world was small compared to that of hearts and flowers And poems were only whispers among the trees that you weaved with your frail F I N G E R T I P S You are the bright light against pale paint, the tiny curve in the corners of a smile-- the quiet S H A D O W S in the pages of a book You are all the beautiful things --if ever eternally-- (so slightly your life flickered) you are. (2.22.15)

28

I will be a window and the secrets you tell with your lips. The sighs you blanket with the softest care and the breaths you unknowingly count. I will be the reminder of every second spent and every moment felt. A contradiction of your judgement and a compliment of your beliefs. I will be the ink of each unwritten imitation of every mediocre song. The scent of orange peel that trails on the extravagant curves of your fingernails. (3.19.09)

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Oct 14, 2017

Oct 14, 2017 at 11:56 PM UTC

chaziyer

Orange Peel

I will be a window and the secrets you tell with your lips. The sighs you blanket with the softest care and the breaths you unknowingly count. I will be the reminder of every second spent and every moment felt. A contradiction of your judgement and a compliment of your beliefs. I will be the ink of each unwritten imitation of every mediocre song. The scent of orange peel that trails on the extravagant curves of your fingernails. (3.19.09)

13

You were young once, my dear. Twice before did you close your eyes for beauty and never found peace with the hands that touched you. Yes, my dear, You were here ...once. (6.9.10)

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Oct 14, 2017

Oct 14, 2017 at 11:47 PM UTC

chaziyer

Doe

You were young once, my dear. Twice before did you close your eyes for beauty and never found peace with the hands that touched you. Yes, my dear, You were here ...once. (6.9.10)

8

I will not be the hands that whisper across your skin-- the weathered kisses and cracked lips. My caged heart is not your drum. I will not be your stepping stone-- your weeping willow. (6.18.17)

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Oct 14, 2017

Oct 14, 2017 at 11:26 PM UTC

chaziyer

Weeping Willow

I will not be the hands that whisper across your skin-- the weathered kisses and cracked lips. My caged heart is not your drum. I will not be your stepping stone-- your weeping willow. (6.18.17)

6