Letters and words doesn't make a poem
There's more to it than that
Poems were the tears that tumbled out
that the eyes can't hold no more
They were the sound of broken hearts,
that strive to beat ones more
For what are words
but formed letters?
And letters a broken word?
While poems are bits and pieces
of a poets gentle soul
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
every sooften, a day will wash over leaving me
a little paler, a little thin ner
for the most part I crush it like a can and bury it in my chest,
pretend it's a necklace, wear a face to match
I'll take breaths so deep, but my chest won't move
up or down, some days
I cut it into pieces, dangle it from the ceiling and watch it glint in the
sunlight, some days
I pull it over my head like a blanket, and keep the dayshine
at bay, leave my limbs pale a little longer
somedays
it's almost a comfort
some days, It's almost as if
I breathe it as it
breathes me and
the wind we create together carries us
in it's length across
the valleys of our
small universe
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
Click, clock, wiz,twirl
The cogs begin to hustle
As they spin and swirl
filling the daily bustle
Moving the packages from here to there
Repeating the daily hurry
Fixing them up everywhere
To erase the masters worry
The cogs repeating and teaching
Taking them from the clutter
With the powerful arms, reaching
Stopping with a stutter
They stuff them, paint them, move them
Teach them, fight them, carve them
They fill them, clutter them, rush them
Shove them, push them, test them
As they move the silly gifts along
Making them perfect for the future
It make takes years, maybe not too long
To form the perfect structure
And when the packages are all done
They will be shipped off to the store
We're they will be free to run
And the factory won't be needed more
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
I try not to fall asleep, not wanting to be away from you
But then I do I sleep deep, a rest thats way past due
But while I sleep your not gone, cause baby your in my dreams tonight
Distantly I hear our song, I wish id dream of you every night
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
Monsters she had always feared since she were four
They still exist
Even now,
Those terrifying creatures
Breathe and live in her
Deep, deep, deep inside her pure soul
Feeding of her unseen menacing dark thoughts
Slowly ******* her soul like dementors
As she begins to lose herself
They wait until she unleashes them
to the filthy world
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
you are essentially an object to me.
no one dare invent words that pick and **** and litter our ears
with shards of doubt, dismissive declarations.
the victorious are those who cover their ears and screen their eyes from
someone else's misery: bruised knuckles and a wall that wouldn't budge.
but all I see is a woman crumpled on the floor, her pride
posed like a crow on a branch in the open window frame,
mocking her failing strength and shattered resolve;
someone's fist tingles with accomplishment
for putting that Thing in her place,
close to her true place,
on the shelf
she dusts and polishes fastidiously,
lest he call her out on her "half-assed attempt,"
no one dare invent words
that limit little girls to the plastic boxes
for their plastic dolls
with plastic smiles.
when the seed grows buds,
that become flourishing leaves on a solid stem,
reaching up, up, up
can they see me yet?
but all they want is the fruit.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
To drift in the wind on the edge of a dream,
chasing our thoughts on the back of a moonbeam,
candyfloss mornings and effervescent nights,
cascading rainbows in a box of delights,
pretty girl smiles and puppy dog tails,
candy stripe slugs and polka dot snails,
ride the light on a sunlit wave,
into the void of the crystal cave.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
I was once like you,
but now I am a here,
I sit and wait for hours and days,
why can’t anyone see me,
they seem to look right through,
I feel no hunger, feel no thirst,
what is this that I have become,
I am like the moon and sun,
caught on a film that always runs,
I am lost forever in this twilight haze,
so many things I do not understand,
I walk around on a busy street,
eyes to eyes that never meet,
that spot on the road looks so familiar,
immense pain it would not wait,
I think this was where I met my fate.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 7:29 AM UTC
His smell. I could never define it properly. You never can, with scents. There are never words to describe them floating in the air after a rainstorm, nor the smell of a freshly cut grass, on a warm summer's day.
His scent was dark and musky: the shadows of an expensive aftershave, cigarettes burning slowly, the smell of home gliding on his skin.
Those, and a thousand other things I could never place my finger upon. It all combined to make up Him. The most comforting smell in the world
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 7:55 PM UTC