Hello Poetry
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donovan
donovan
had to find some place to vent the crumblings of my mind. pray my pompeii poeticism isn't contagious.
i shook your petals once watched them fall to the floor. i shook your petals once but now i shake them no more.
0
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
petals.
better to be alone than in the company of ******** i always say. now that i'm alone and the ***** is gone, these walls never seemed so close.
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Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC
the ***** is gone.
i've never brushed my hands across the skin of the ocean. i've never embraced the snow of the mountain's canvas. i've never breathed in the heat of a desert's exhalation. the ocean will ripple, the snow will build, the sands will burn, all without me. so i am thankful, in awe really, that Nature's love exists without man.
0
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC
Nature's love.
growing up to choruses of revelation and redemption, i always heard them say that this world is approaching hell or heaven. now that years have passed and i have found my own voice, i say -with scars of experience- there's not much difference between an abundance of wildflowers or an abundance of wildfires. life continues to blossom fearlessly forward; lovers continue to burn just as brightly. so, dear friend, i beg of you, spread me like your wildflowers. hiding beneath the weight of loam bodies curled tight in the shell of youth clinging tight to the gentle flame that burns within us all. spread me like your wildfires. ever expanding heat and humidity swelling and growing faster, faster collecting sparks like goosebumps and awaiting the ignition of touch. spread me like wildflowers. roots like fingers tunneling their way through the damp fertility of adolescent life stumbling through hallways headfirst into the light. spread me like wildfires. bellowing smoke like clouds dances from lips never kissed now singed to a gentle crisp from the intimacy of a catalyst. spread me like wildflowers. stems burst forth from the dark with the kinesthetic rage of a child no longer content to crawl upon hands and knees. spread me like wildfires. gasping, wheezing, aching, spreading further, higher to find new sources to burn like blood in veins in the heartbeats following a first touch. spread me like wildflowers. bodies now rising strong against the tide of winds lifting the burden of petals upon shoulders capable like butterflies crouching upon fingertips raised, poised to fly. spread me like wildfires. flames stretching like arms across the skin of a now familiar lover embracing in the hot throes of passion and the brilliant burn of innocence's remorse. spread me like wildflowers. buds burdened with dew heavy with expectation to begin anew straining against the drowsiness of flesh until finally bursting forth with brilliant zeal. spread me like wildfires. the overwhelming euphoria of feet finding steady ground and of thoughts no longer filled with concerns of mere survival. spread me like wildflowers. growing past fearful worries of tomorrow content to stretch limbs and petals wide seeding the earth with children and blessing a new generation with beauty. spread me like wildfires. drowning the overwhelming clamor of a forest in the midst of song replaced only with the lonely blaze, the roaring glow in that crackling ****** spread me like wildflowers. the seasons of youth long passed leaving trunks and bodies to thicken and knot scarring deeper with every lingering reminder and memory of the light left dimming. spread me like wildfires. always hungry, wisps of flame lick at the heels of the forest stealing the air of life and lungs and leaving the body breathless. spread me like wildflowers. the brisk, impersonal wind of winter chills the rooted beauty of Nature's eye gently wilting the aging passion under a soft crown of frost. spread me like wildfires. never content to rest in one place or shy away from raging against the gall of day to ever end at all and lower the shades on former lovers. spread me like wildflowers. gently resting like bodies no longer warm to the touch sleeping deeper than corpses in the morgue of your memory. spread me like wildfires. ash swirls in the flurry of flame's last breath, whirling in the charred remains of intimacy no longer returned, no longer found. so lover, i beg now of you, bury me like your wildflowers. drown me like your wildfires.
0
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 11:49 AM UTC
wild(flowers/fires).
growing up to choruses of revelation and redemption, i always heard them say that this world is approaching hell or heaven. now that years have passed and i have found my own voice, i say -with scars of experience- there's not much difference between an abundance of wildflowers or an abundance of wildfires. life continues to blossom fearlessly forward; lovers continue to burn just as brightly. so, dear friend, i beg of you, spread me like your wildflowers. hiding beneath the weight of loam bodies curled tight in the shell of youth clinging tight to the gentle flame that burns within us all. spread me like your wildfires. ever expanding heat and humidity swelling and growing faster, faster collecting sparks like goosebumps and awaiting the ignition of touch. spread me like wildflowers. roots like fingers tunneling their way through the damp fertility of adolescent life stumbling through hallways headfirst into the light. spread me like wildfires. bellowing smoke like clouds dances from lips never kissed now singed to a gentle crisp from the intimacy of a catalyst. spread me like wildflowers. stems burst forth from the dark with the kinesthetic rage of a child no longer content to crawl upon hands and knees. spread me like wildfires. gasping, wheezing, aching, spreading further, higher to find new sources to burn like blood in veins in the heartbeats following a first touch. spread me like wildflowers. bodies now rising strong against the tide of winds lifting the burden of petals upon shoulders capable like butterflies crouching upon fingertips raised, poised to fly. spread me like wildfires. flames stretching like arms across the skin of a now familiar lover embracing in the hot throes of passion and the brilliant burn of innocence's remorse. spread me like wildflowers. buds burdened with dew heavy with expectation to begin anew straining against the drowsiness of flesh until finally bursting forth with brilliant zeal. spread me like wildfires. the overwhelming euphoria of feet finding steady ground and of thoughts no longer filled with concerns of mere survival. spread me like wildflowers. growing past fearful worries of tomorrow content to stretch limbs and petals wide seeding the earth with children and blessing a new generation with beauty. spread me like wildfires. drowning the overwhelming clamor of a forest in the midst of song replaced only with the lonely blaze, the roaring glow in that crackling ****** spread me like wildflowers. the seasons of youth long passed leaving trunks and bodies to thicken and knot scarring deeper with every lingering reminder and memory of the light left dimming. spread me like wildfires. always hungry, wisps of flame lick at the heels of the forest stealing the air of life and lungs and leaving the body breathless. spread me like wildflowers. the brisk, impersonal wind of winter chills the rooted beauty of Nature's eye gently wilting the aging passion under a soft crown of frost. spread me like wildfires. never content to rest in one place or shy away from raging against the gall of day to ever end at all and lower the shades on former lovers. spread me like wildflowers. gently resting like bodies no longer warm to the touch sleeping deeper than corpses in the morgue of your memory. spread me like wildfires. ash swirls in the flurry of flame's last breath, whirling in the charred remains of intimacy no longer returned, no longer found. so lover, i beg now of you, bury me like your wildflowers. drown me like your wildfires.
Continue reading...
102
i get angry at your opinion as if it were something i could change. facts are easy to alter (if not, ignore them). opinions linger like kisses from unwanted lovers (absolution skips a few).
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Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC
facts are easy.
the familiar grip of a chainsaw a quick snap of the wrist awakens the beast hungry for a visceral vivisection violent, vivid, vital in nature and vying for more. hand finish what fumes and metal teeth cannot pulling the young body of pine to stoop and kiss the skin of the earth. i traced my fingers across the edges of your spine. i counted 7. no, 8. 8 rings. 8 years. what is my primate life worth? how many rings are etched on my soul? what color is the sap pouring through my veins? could i ever be worth a tree could a tree ever be worth me? my confessions rain like the needles from your hair. i know now that Nature's love exists without man. my mother always told me that god rested on sundays. i always thought that was funny. instead, she weeps.
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Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
8 years; or, on watching the death of a child.
who needs a clipboard anyway? the back of a lover's legs are enough lacking the flat judgement of wood embracing the fluid of my words upon the sweet kiss of skin. absorb me in the cracks of your mind. soak me into the patience of your smile. drink me in the holes of your eyes. lead me into the scars of your past. lose me in the folds of your heart. crack open the yolk of my heart and let me leak into my streets of veins. allow me to drip into your soul and sink like grinds to the bottom of my midmorning melancholy coffee. the ink of my favorite pen seeps into the threads of my sleeves. i sit, watching it spread across fibers to infect new lands and conquer old stains. my ship never had a sail but my hands are strong enough oars i can carry myself across oceans treading night after night until i reach you on the shore.
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Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 11:31 AM UTC
clipboards.
the hardest lesson i ever learned was never to dig a shallow grave. i learned as a boy young and teary eyed scrapes on both knees knee deep in mud, too weak to lift the shovel. i dropped your body in left your corpse in a shallow pit. at a tender age it was all i could do. i didn't prepare for the flood didn't see it coming so when the rains hit your body turned lazarus. old haunts and dreams better off dead drug their familiar names in my skin and i aged decades in heartbeats. the hardest lesson i learned was that corpses stay dead no matter how many prayers you send. you are a corpse of a forgotten promise reeking of obsolescence. don't you dare forget that i buried you once twice three times that you still rose to haunt me in the quiet hours of a morning too heavy with dew to begin of a sun too weary to start again of a moon too proud to dip below my horizons that i walked away left my scar of an unrequited kiss upon the skin of the earth. the hardest lesson i ever learned was how deep to dig a grave for a memory turned corpse.
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC
gravedigger kid.
you never told me you needed me just lists of other things deserving your attention. your dreams were what was most important to you and i can't say i blame you. people are fault ridden creatures after all. i don't get lonely anymore. the stench of coffee and the staggered breath of the same old records keeps me. my only frustration is that the music was too short the dreams too painful the quiet too loud. the space between tracks is where i live that repeating abyss you can't ignore as you await the next song hoping it will take you from this place. it's odd how we never think anything of the silence until it blankets us and is the only thing left to talk about.
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
the only thing left.
emotions are just like sand. always fleeting, always shifting. not quite whole but wholly individual and flitting through our fingers before we can fully grasp them.
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 7:31 PM UTC
sand.