Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
~
In the lull of deserted beaches
I admire those towering waves
I dive into cherished reveries
unravelling unrequited shells
~
© Christina Philipe
... just another drawing in your book when we could have created a masterpiece.
~
Stop caring too much
"what worries you, masters you"
Quash your fears, quench every butterfly
Forget your dreams, never expect, just fly
Passion is a reckless illusion, a dangerous frenzy
Love is a weakness, a heartbreak sentence
As much as you try to do things right, to make it work
Blind soul... it will always drive against your flow
~
.
I visioned you,
With her in fields
Of long green grass
Underneath the sun.

I watched you,
****** each other
Like shears to a lamb
Naked and joyous.

You left me here,
In the plots of blade
And purple thistle crown
A princess undone.

I will nay curse you,
Nor she who destroyed
Me as I was once alive,
Woke under your spell.
.
Your face,
Louder than the moon,
Drowning me
Out into the long night,
Is so warm,
Like sun tendering heather.

Your voice,
Lifting me like a feather,
Into great sky
Weightless as I fall high,
Downy and rich,
As babe is swaddled nigh.

Your touch,
Sets my weary soul aflame
And I call out
Into the night carving names,
Writ in comets,
Yet to crash, that I am starlight.
I ne'er half thought of you as best
Painted, frozen on canvas, still, set?
Static & unmoving...  but I do rest
In my bet you feign'd it. The man Thus, he is as a criminal! If hold he Must you as possession -Beauty's Pageant.
A sun proving to ne'er grow Stagnant.
Go'th then, swept in wind, smooth &
Seminole, with no frame to so seal In
YOUth within his lines -rather reel In
Lines of my rhymes to sustain YOU Ever
Both A's & Q's. No pause, Sure Forever.

Inks & links rather than oils soon Cracked &
Dried out, faded with careless Neglect
And old Time, proving Spell checked
Words, ripen'd on a vine, (freely repro-
Duced,) is better than stretchers 2 show
In one place, wired/hooked on a dim wall
Of your captor. His penchant 2 refuse call,
Or to face, why your smile wert so small.
Unbeknownst to the brushed up painter,
Who with gobbledygook stained your
Heart, but took you as his Sitter bitterly.
So if your Silence art your bitter Mystery,
Then book Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall
As my pen chants only 4u -a wonderwall.
Wonderwall- Barrier which separates the mundane from a transcendent Reality which has a slit where the observer catches a glimpse of what lies beyond.

Not a reference to an imaginary friend who saves you from yourself.


A's=Answers Q's=Questions or (Cues.)

The Argument: Writing is a better way to sustain a person, because when copies are made of the original words, they still have the same value as opposed to copies of a painting. Also, a portrait locks the Sitter within the parameters of the frame, whereas the lines of verses set the subject free.

Or perhaps she is better painted now that I put things in perspective, if she is both the canvas and the paint -I will let that sink in for a while. Update* Did anyone fig it out? I  half-implied she is self absorbed... Lol
 Feb 2017 Mysidian Bard
LucidLucy
Tonight my body is fueled with alcohol.
I'd play with you as if you were a ball.
My thoughts with this lie is kind of rough.
And how I wish I come out of this a little bit more tough.

But what I'm getting at is more of the lie.
And so every day I choose to die.
Die and forget what was once we had.
Sleep and regret the things that turned out bad.

Look forward to a brighter day.
And wish that tomorrow will not be a hang over kind of day.
I fell in love with the words you spoke. Delicately lying to me. You probably believed it for a little bit too.

The first couple months were great,
The last couple  were good.

Your feelings kept on getting weaker while mine were stronger. But you never would have noticed. Cause your blind of devotion.

I still think about you everyday. You aren't the same. You don't even remember my name.
Next page