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 May 2018 EMD
Cello Girl
The Forest
 May 2018 EMD
Cello Girl
Deep in the forest,
The dark green forest,
Where the trees sway
In the lively breath of wind,
Their marshmallow heads
Dancing,

Where it is afloat and aflutter
With birdsong,
And the chirps of the playful creek,
The steady burbling of unbridled joy,

Where beauty grows on trees,
In pinks and purples and pollen
In fur and feathers,
In the earth,

There is a pond,
A polished mirror laid gently
On the dewy grass.
An echo of the strokes
Of a child’s painting,
In the sky.
 May 2018 EMD
Heart of Silver
There's a heart inside my chest,
nestled snugly between my ribs
As you might've guessed

It's a warm, warm heart
Those hands of yours
will tear it apart


Each thump will make it ooze a little more
That rotting thing from which endless blood pours
Jagged bits of glass buried deep, so deep
and over broken edges the sticky bits of muscle seep


The ever-so-helpful-you digs your fingers straight in
to claw out the offending shards that pierce my skin
Now removed my open wounds have time to heal
And my less-damaged heart begins to kind of feel


They sew with shimmery thread
Gently stitching my wounds together
instead of leaving me for dead
The original draft of "Heart of Gold".

I haven't written in a bit, so I felt like posting this. :)
 Apr 2018 EMD
Traveler
IN LONGING
 Apr 2018 EMD
Traveler
Oh sea of madness
Oh ocean of fools
This water between us
Is but a drowning-pool

Tomorrows is out of focus
In the dimness of foresight
Sticks and stones in pockets
This involuntary fight

No shelter from the tempest
The storms that never end
Just a longing to return
To embrace your love again....
Traveler Tim
 Apr 2018 EMD
Traveler
STARVED
 Apr 2018 EMD
Traveler
Deep in my psyche
There's a poetry thirst
Dry are my thoughts
In wind storms of words

My heart is a desert
Of blistering heat
My mind is crawling
Towards a salty sea

And there at the edge
Of an ink-less abyss
I so hunger
And thirst
Just to write
And to live
>>>>>>>>
Traveler Tim
 Apr 2018 EMD
A Lofi Cherry
It was the sky’s turn to switch palettes of colour. Though he forgot how, and they overflowed.  
Excited for the marscarade ball sky decided to hold.
Colours danced epotic like that never told.
A cream white river sliced in half.
Azure heard thistle laugh.  
But I blinked and the ball had settled to black.
Twilight again.
I saw a sunset and... ☼ a story unfolded before me.
I just had to trap it in ink and paper and language. Azurite and thistle are two characters based on the blue and purple colours with their names. I’m thinking of writing something with azurite and thistle again soon.
 Apr 2018 EMD
Pagan Paul
.
There was a time
when a poet was the bane,
a thorn in the side of fathers,
seeking to protect their starry eyed daughters,
to keep their virtue intact and pure,
from the menace of romantic verse,
and the lure of a handsome wordsmith.

There was a time
women would queue to be his muse,
pray to be the next broken hearted tragedy,
in rhymes penned by his stroking fingers,
the fulcrum of an adventure in love,
to fulfil their private fantasies of destiny,
being the plaything of word woven desire.

There was a time
ladies in lace and fur and of status
raided accounts of rich and flaccid husbands,
to bestow favour and gifts,
upon the man who turned them on,
with *** for their lust starved bodies
and soft words for sensitive emotional need.

There was a time
and now its has long gone,
the poet barely catches a beautiful muse,
hardly ever breaks a heart,
nor seduces a benefactors second glance,
leading her to book and bed,
as the world offers her distractions new.



© Pagan Paul (25/04/18)
.
I doused myself in gasoline
And set our bed on fire
Before I went to sleep
I told of my desire

The ashes are now
What we used to call comfort.
The flames dissappeared
Into a savior of some sort.

The springs are still glowing
The passion is dead
The drive to keep going
Was found in the bed.
And in me.
But I doused myself in gasoline.

I set the bed on fire

But before I went to sleep
I spoke of my desire.
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