Dylan Whisman

Dylan Whisman Aug 2015

If you were to come along
and see the beauty
through my gentle eyes,
without having to rip the skin
from my flesh to search inside.

From an old Spanish galleon
sleeping under covers of sand and shells,
I would dive to steal us
the finest wine,
for you my love.

then i would slice up the moon
to add them to our crackers.
and if we kissed in the darkness
with no question on our lips,
i'd love you even more.

My fellow humans, love is our only hope. Find someone you love and tell them.
Have a beautiful evening. Don't forget to leave a comment if you like:)

#love #beauty #selflessness #frommyheart #stillhoping

Aug 2015

SøułSurvivør

morning of 10,000 ghosts

~~~

i looked unto
a seplechur sky
deepest dungeon of blue
wreaths of wraiths
beseached the hills
before the day was new

whisps of vapor
reaching up and out
ten thousand ghosts forlorn
all looking for the morning sun
wishing to be reborn

sad and lost
they wailed there
at the closing of the night
plain the pain and deep despair
magical the sight

i felt a tear
roll down my face
they were so pale and wan
i watched the sun rise
o'r the hills
looked back and

they were gone

soulsurvivor
(C) 8/13/2015

this poem was inspired by
clouds i saw a few weeks ago
an awesome sight
low hanging and wispy
just like ghosts

I'm only on site a short time
mom is still quite ill

thanks for your prayers

#clouds #morning #ghosts #hellopoetry107

Aug 2015

brandon nagley

Getting lost, in ourn own writing

As poet's we tend to get caught up in ourn own writing
As I canst lieth, I do as well;
Though we must not forget, whilst getting caught up
In reading ourn favorite poet's poetry on here
And writing ourn own,
We must NEVER forget
The unknown poet's here
The ones in the back of the room
The backbone to the poetic world and society
The quiet one's
Who seeketh none fame
Though they art famous
In a quiet way
As tis we must helpeth them
To spread their quiet wing's;
And flyeth on,
And helping another unknown
As the one's known
Helped us....

©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

#hp #dont-forget-unknownpoets

Aug 2015

glassea

temporary

she may hurt, but she is not pain.
she may fail, but she is not a failure.
she may be tragic, but she is not tragedy.

*she may feel worthless,
but this, too, will pass.

so it's always worth reminding people (i.e. myself) that just because you feel something in the moment doesn't mean that it's permanent. an emotion is an instant, no matter how long the ache lasts, and an instant cannot define you.

(thanks for the daily!)

Aug 2015

ryn

Derelict

I am but willing prey to the wiles of the full grown moon.
She guards the night sky...
While I patrol these grounds...
Grieving over the seconds that have gone too soon.

I am a vessel... all emptied and barren.
what once was full,
now echoes faint
the glories of yesteryears.
Afloat still, adrift upon the currents... aimless and sullen.

I am a ghost... haunting no one but my own.
Immortalised...
Anchored...
to a body of mist and haze...
Occupying this space where worthy wind had once blown...

I am a beggar offering nothing but my open palms.
Hope etched tight
into my knackered knuckles
and calloused digits.
Please... take them in yours...
soothe them...
grant me your touch, your coveted balm.

#abandoned #derelict #hellopoetry107

Aug 2015

ryn

Lend Me...

Lend me your eyes.
So I could fill them
with the bursting stars.
Telling tales of the spellbinding universe,
singing songs of exploding suns...
and of splintering quasars.

Lend me your thoughts.
So that if I may,
write of them.
Fantastical scribbles of love
and praise.
Meticulously lined
and carefully stitched...
with immaculate lace at the hems.

Lend me your breaths.
I'd catch them as they fall...
between the words you would say.
Merging mine with yours...
introducing colour...
and vigour
to my monochromatic world of
black, white and grey.

Lend me your heartbeats...
for mine thumps erratic.
As if beating in silent mock.
I depend on the steadiness in yours.
So they could usurp
the ticks of worldly clocks.

Lend me your hands.
Palms up as a sign,
perhaps as an invitation...
for me to take them.
And maybe...
hopefully fill them...
with mine...

#hellopoetry107 #lendme

Aug 2015

ryn

Adrift

.
Adrift...
Time has no hold over these
currents that carry me.
Coursing over this seemingly
endless journey.
Caressed and nudged
by an invisible hand...
Perhaps my grave awaits below...
Where light is swallowed
and is too afraid to show.
The desolate demeanor
of the submerged tombless land.

Adrift...
Blind to what lays in store...
Oblivious to...
The faint whispers of a distant shore.
The mythical horizon is but a dream,
worthy only to the steadfast
and the resilient.
Not to those who'd fray at the seams.

Adrift...
Ripples amass and finally cresting.
Wake up... Waves are breaking.
The sand beckons bearing open arms
to home and sanctuary.
I glance back to
the calm of the watery plain.
My feet aren't ready to be received by
the grit and grain.
I'd like to linger here...
In the water, with the shore so near.
For I've longed and travelled far...
but
I'm still not yet ready...
.

#adrift #hellopoetry107 #journeyhome