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Jun 2018 · 81
Nova Born Jun 2018
Reality is a player of strings,
each strand doing a number of things,
Their fingers dancing playfully,
even though the game is of extreme,
as there fangs bite into the hopes and dreams,
until the blood is gone from bodies, and we're
left standing wondering, what happened to the crisp clear
vision that was so near, it was practically here, but then its a vacuum of the one and only fear.
Jun 2018 · 77
Nova Born Jun 2018
I like the chaos, dear friend,
The way the screams echo,
And stretch out so that they never end in your head.
I like the way the dial of emotions starts spinning, and the poisons start winning, and soon you might start grinning.
When there's silence, you always know, it's your heart that ceases to go, and the tick tock of time is a no show.
Let there be hisses and sparks, as fire reaches to tear us apart, and the sounds a invisible work of art.
I like the cacophony, the simple ceremony, that makes your eyes open to the symphony,
The thunder crack, to say troubles back, you need to not slack, and that you shall never lack,
The feeling of adventure at its sweetest, wildest point.
Jun 2018 · 81
a Wishing Well's Wish
Nova Born Jun 2018
The sound as water hits coin.
After coin. After..coin. So many wishes.
Some come true- what miracle could it be?
Others fade with time, the hopeful ones cast away.
I wonder what a Wishing Well's Wish might be,
would it be to grant more wishes, stop granting them,
or maybe have some arms or thoughts or anything at all,
that could make them wish upon a coin, and through it into
some depth thats deeper when you don't look.
Jun 2018 · 93
Mocking Jay
Nova Born Jun 2018
Mocking Jay, what do you say?
Mocking Jay, what do you say?
As you fly, through and fray,
come with the evening,
and gone the next day.
gone the next day.
You keep on leaving me,
stay, stay, on your willow tree!
It seems you always creep, leave
when I am but trying to sleep.
Mocking Jay, you seem to not be able to make up your mind!
Can't you find
some words that you like?
You hear things and if there sweet, repeat,
and I used to find it quite neat,
but what are you trying to make my mind greet?
It's a bit sad, I suppose, your story, as it unfolds,
you find other voices as gold,
but, behold!
your vocal cords are set in stone,
when it comes to speaking your own!
set in stone,
Do you hide in shadows
as others whisper,
trying to find the perfect sentence,
the one that says,
what you want to say?
I don't even know if mocking birds can say things they've not heard, but it sure seems like they cant.
May 2018 · 98
Nova Born May 2018
People utter promises
like fitful dreams,
some may stick with you forever,
others are blown as fast as thoughts into the wind.
Some like to speak there thoughts, like infernos twisting away as tornados do. Some write them, piles and piles of
sketched onto the page as they form mountains. Whats a thought without someone to pass it
Now what's a promise when it's not kept? Is it anything at all? Is it as absent as the air is in outer space? Looks so real but as soon as you breathe it in, no breath is heard, no
May 2018 · 100
Nova Born May 2018
There's 365 days in a year,
all dependent of the orbit of this sphere.
As we spin round and round,
stuck to the ground, we are unaware of seconds slipping by.
Just someone saying 'Hi' could have made your day,
if you listened.
The world is sliver glistened, as millions of waves
go by and by in the 365 days.
Ah, most everyone likes the birthdays, even if they
are just closer to death, they are times to celebrate-
it's your special date.
So many children in this world, most simply fade to nothing when they die, no one else to remember them except those that said goodbye.
Others may appear in news, or whatever you please, but we all share the common things,
a will to live if it's to live happily.

And honestly, I was born on Mothers day, and it's different every year, todays my birthday, and I'm glad that it's appeared. But sometimes I wonder if and my brother were my mothers gift or curse,
after all, pregnancy HURTS!
May 2018 · 98
Happy Mothers Day!
Nova Born May 2018
****-ay, ****-ay, look at the date, look at the date!
Celebrate, Celebrate,
*Do you think they'll get a piece of cake? I might have made one mistake, the frosting looks off fully lumpy..
May 2018 · 182
Fickle Thing
Nova Born May 2018
It seems lifes a fickle thing,
one that shifts and craves for nothing,
but to tear me apart piece by piece,
Can't you, Can't you hear them howling?
Sometimes when you fall you take
the risk that it won't be a mistake
even if your lives at stake.
Can't You hear them howling?
Life's a, Life's a fickle thing..
Sometimes wishes give us hope,
but sometimes wishes are but a joke
until they wrap you until you choke,
Howling, Howling, Life's a fickle thing.
Can you catch it, catch it? As it flickers from
your grasp?
Is it fate that blows the wind,
or is it my own control? Do you know?
Fickle, Fickle thing, Howling..
The light's to bright, the good has to many lies,
the shadows the only place to hide,
come inside.
May 2018 · 98
Wondering Wanderer
Nova Born May 2018
I wonder what babies see, when they open there eyes for the first peek,
I wander down the rivers and streams, trying to catch the piece of me, that's still floating on endlessly,
I wonder if I flew, how far would it be before I felt something new, something in my heart, that may be a start,
I wander to the valleys, full of blooming Bittersweet, but all I seek, at the end, is Truth, clear and without another lie to turn my head,
I wonder if I chase after you, how far would I go, before you started to slow, or if we would just stay in that neverchanging cycle of running, for and forsaken,
I wander down the lost and found, maybe theres a way I can stand my ground, but it's all empty when I look around,
I wonder if randomly, the world will unfold around me, and pieces go together perfectly, without the error
that is Me.~
May 2018 · 100
Tape Recorder
Nova Born May 2018
I had a tape recorder on my nightstand, once.
Through my ears, normally, my voice is always underlined with my thoughts. Thoughts that echo what I say, or maybe more spirals of curls underneath.
I recorded me talking about unfair, of nice, of crazy things, and played it back.
It sounded like a insignificant thing, trying to be loud, or a robin, trying to roar. Who was I kidding?
I left it there for awhile. Someone pressed the button, and I quickly turned it off.
I guess I'm to much of a chicken to say anything I really think. To afraid of the judges putting me in a jury.
May 2018 · 66
Nova Born May 2018
A glimpse. click
A taste. click

A sound. click
A smell. click

Just a click of a camera,
or imprints pressed down in your mind.
Sometimes I wish my camera
Wasn't cracked,
that I could see things through clear eyes,
with a brightness I've replaced
as I try to see what's true or lies.
I wish I could see, not just look,
to tell exactly
what everything
is to

May 2018 · 144
Nova Born May 2018
I guess I'm just a wall with a face,
to every stranger I see as I go place to place,
to prove I won't fall is a constant race.

You know my name, not my story, who are you to
say I have no glory?  I'm not something you study in a laboratory,
I have pages to fame, my body just a territory.

I stroke, I stroke, my paintbrush starts to unfold,
what other don't know, colors born to be told.
Your just a bloke, a bloke, I shall be written in bold!

I'm a wall with a face, open, open my gate,
I'm not a gentle snowflake, your mistake, is the last string I shall take!
All smiles are fake, frowns lead to tears that cause lakes,
Look upon my Grace! Not my Face!
Nova Born May 2018
Up one hill, down another,
perfectly fine til my car makes a splutter.
Crip crack go, puff puff puff,
**** it, this road may have been to tough.
My legs ain't as good as they used to be,
so I guess I'll just have to postpon my trip
to the coun'try

Flat land, low land, what my br'ain fails to understand
is how i'll ever see this place ag'ain.

Up one hill, down another,
perfectly fine til my car makes a splutter.
Crip crack go, puff puff puff,
**** it, this road may have been to tough.
My legs ain't as good as they used to be,
so I guess I'll just have to postpon my trip
to the coun'try

Sea life, cut the rope with your new knife,
slice, slice, slice

Up one wave, down another,
perfectly fine until my boat starts to flutter
woosh woosh woosh, do boats have a caboose?
My swimmin aint good as it used to be,
guess I'll see you someday, please,
will you say hi to coun'try,
for me?
Apr 2018 · 75
Nova Born Apr 2018
I heard, I heard
that there are five senses,
from thy sight to thy words,
a birth in the brain,
of a green blue 'n colored domain
But some see differently,
or when they [don't] hear,
"Come a-gain?"
it travels to the head
but what about when you go to bed?
What makes the dreams so fake?
So real?
Is it the fact that when we wake, we feel?
Or that in dreams, time stretches, in life it's steel.
I touch, I say it's ruff,
but to other it may be soft as rabbit fluff.
A illusion is not a illusion,
for then everything else is someone loosin
it aswell.
Some say there menally insane, but what makes them that
and us not?
What is us? What is them? Why does a needle decide what the thread is?
What if were all still in bed?
Never lift up thy heads?
Never went down in the first place?
Apr 2018 · 103
The brothers
Nova Born Apr 2018
There were two brothers, say day,
both a blessing to their mother,
but danger broke through there quiet cover
one escaped, the other danced with the hanger
the escapee made a life with tretchery
the other brother escaped eventualy and lived a life of honesty
even though he was on the run from the county
soon pain knocked on the other brother's door,
and implored,
If you are thy lucky one,
why are you banditing, instead of living that life of honesty?

Neither had a answer.
Nova Born Mar 2018
A man and his family lived in that house of half,
one other lay above, futuristic, but past of my past.
As the family grew old, the house of half shook with mold.
The half of the past house twas built on that hill, most of the family was gone, but the man lived there still. His crinkles and folds,
and memory uncontrolled. They say that a man shall not die,
until the day of the sunrise,
where his name is spoken last, where the future he had is now past.
He left that house, his family sad, but his bones were weak, not like young lads. The swing once used grew old to, watching the birds.
The swing saw the birds,
the grass saw the swing,
the sun saw it all,
and even the moon intervened.
We see the moon, we see the sun,
so has that mans story ended or begun?
Mar 2018 · 51
They say Gold's greed
Nova Born Mar 2018
Everything moves along,
same old story, same old song,
Nothing lasts, not for long,
farlands, highlands,
sad lands and low lands.
all you can do is keep going,
don't give the past a glance.
Keep that head high, keep that worry low,
caverns of sorrow close with solid gold.
It'll be worth it,
treasures behold
wicked grins seem soft nowadays
children play with knifes
near the bay
Nova Born Mar 2018
If you asked one of young,
what those tiny ***** of sun,
meant to them, the'd grin,
and say,
'Because it's pretty, of course.'

if you asked one of sparse,
the'd retort back to you grumpil-ay,
'curse the stars, let it be day!'

If you asked the broken,
who's love was mistaken for a token,
or maybe just there past won't go aw-ay,
they might say, quietly,
'There the light in the darkness, ice broken,
shootings stars to show that battle scars..'
they might trail off, and then silently look at you,
and say with there eyes,
'Might just heal.'
Mar 2018 · 55
Nova Born Mar 2018
I'll be light from the fire,
The pillar going higher
The healer with no other desire
Than to come from the flames, rebirthed
a new being on the earth

and together we shall surge
like we have no other urge
to the battle, murged
if we die we'll later emerge,
a sight for the liers
Mar 2018 · 49
Catching the Dreams
Nova Born Mar 2018
I built a dream catcher,
but It caught no dreams.
I checked each morning,
and wasn't pleased.
I put it farther,
way outside,
pray that one day,
it would catch wind inside.
I heard that if you waved
a tool back and forth,
bubbles would be born
so I waved that dream catcher
back and forth,
Ignoring the leaves
focussing on the blue
not the green
A glint in the sky,
when I looked up high,
and there was my dream,
lain out for me
a airplane before me
This is written in another point of veiw
Mar 2018 · 60
They said
Nova Born Mar 2018
She said, I'm useless
He said, Your useful
    She said, It's Pointless
He said, Soon it won't be
    She said, I cry.
He said, I have tissues
    She said, I'm broken
He said,
I can help fix you.
She said, my pieces splatter and can't be put together.
He said,
Same as water droplets, and I catch the rain.
Mar 2018 · 66
The Devil Danced
Nova Born Mar 2018
The devil danced,
prances, far lances,
spikey lies and slited eyes,
whispered in all the ears,
that didn't know they shouldn't hear;
"You shall die,
it's not alright,
the dark will cause to much fright,
you will never see the light."
They said;
"I will come again,
it will be alright,
I shall face the fright,
I am the light,
I'll make the lanterns,
Pass em down,
So others wont fear,
Because there are other things I hear."
Mar 2018 · 60
Nova Born Mar 2018
Walking towards a cliff, A Ending.
A new beginning.
A chance.
The unknown, the one force
that pulls all humankind
The questions surrounding the brain,
like leaves covering the facts.
You peer at the edge, but you can only see so far.
It looks like a void, but there's a chance.
A chance there's a bottom.
But also a chance it's to far.
You've seen how falls breaks bones,
gravity rejoicing savagely as they lunge over
the edge.
That they hope,
but they fall too hard,
there hopeful wings turning into piles.
But this is different.
And you are different.
You leap,
you fall,
but it's up to you
if you fly or die.
Mar 2018 · 47
Nova Born Mar 2018
By dawn to noon, I'll smile and swoon, laugh with you.
By twilight to moon, I'll whisper 'soon', watch for loons.
In the water, I'll try harder, pushing farther.
On the land, no one will under stand, my crave for neverland.
In the sky, I'll sing and fly, hope that by night, it'll be alright, by the cascading light.
Nova Born Feb 2018
I said no, we aren't getting back together
I said no, I'm not being fooled again
I say and I say
I'm fed up with your games
your just the same
It's the same old move,
same old play
I said no, why do you even bother
you scream, you cry and you holler
just so you can have a teammate
but now your in check mate
Jan 2018 · 196
The Rose
Nova Born Jan 2018
The rose bush has so many roses
a choice for every person that wanders by
the one that is closest, or the one far and high?
one man saw these roses
all the choices in the bundles
he saw the one that had no thorns
he saw one with many leaves
and then he saw the rose with the most thorns,
one that surely meant destruction
if touched..
but on that morning
one man reached up,
gently grabbing that rose
not being pricked until the last moment,
for that rose had the darkest petals and the lightest ones,
swirling in a chain
that man knew he had His Rose,
and that man has a Dream
for the people of the future
to be like that rose.

He succeeded
causing anger and his death
but also a future
The Future of The Dark and Light Rose.
Sorry i haven't been on, just been busy on my new server on blockheads, called "Dragon & wolf Rp"
If you wanna check it out..
this poem is about Martin Luther Kings Jr., and basically is about how he made a choice that was hard, and actually made it there. I know it's late, was planning on doing it sooner, but better late then never!
Dec 2017 · 181
Christmas Present
Nova Born Dec 2017
Wake up,
says the voice in  your head
you get out of bed, and tip toe to the tree
squeal, so many presents!

Your neighbor wakes up.
He has a date- with his girlfriend.
First one, butterflies.

Your parents wake up, cheers
and smiles

Your neighbor takes his girl
for a ride.

You eat goodies, and play with presents.

They kiss under the mistletoe.
Dec 2017 · 820
Nova Born Dec 2017
I am not pretty
I am not ugly
I am not fat
nor am I skinny

I'm not living
but I'm not dead
I am sleepin
but even when i'm not
feel like I'm dreamin

Things be to bright
but I guess
my souls just to gloomy
Feel trapped
when it's plenty roomy

I am here
but I'm also where
I was
an where I might be
If I keep on sailing
this sea

Up and down
spinning around
look like a professor
feel like a clown

Guess I could do better
but it's like cutting leather

They think I'm sane
so I say I'm ok
but I don't know if
this is right in the brain

Can't see what other people think
maybe everyone has these quirks and kinks

I am here
But really I've dissapeared
Kinda a song...
Dec 2017 · 142
Nova Born Dec 2017
You can see as if its there
Maybe it is
what if the year isn't what we think it is
Maybe there was technology
able to let you touch things
hear things that aren't there
and were all stuck
In a Virtual World?
Not really poem, just something to think about
Dec 2017 · 103
Christmas Future
Nova Born Dec 2017
You dream about it
on Christmas Eve
wondering if you'll get some presents
Maybe worrying if you were good enough
Maybe you've had tough times and just want
to have a full belly, a warm blanket, or simply
some happiness for you and others in a jar  with
a nice bow, maybe wondering if Santa or whomever
he is will give presents even though theres not a
tree or a chimney. Maybe you can just taste
all the things you'll eat. Then when its a
second away, you smile and then its there
Dec 2017 · 99
The Music of The Grieving
Nova Born Dec 2017
The Grieving have no words
to tell what they feel
what they have seen
the things they thought
to be distant realities
suddenly right there
in there face
A bolt of lightning in a cloudless sky

So they play the music for the ones
they love
that are dead
Low notes
high notes
there perfect corus
of screaming
of hopelessness
of a future torn

of a Moonless Night
of a Grey Grass
of a bear Apple Tree,
It's fruit now only producing
what they told themselves
and the reality
trying to solve
and comprehend
the other
2nd part to The Song of The Dead
Dec 2017 · 199
The Song of The Dead
Nova Born Dec 2017
The high pitch
the wines
the low pitch
the perfect pitch  of those
that got just what they

The high pitch
The wines
The ones
still ready to fight
to caw
to schreech
the ones that moan
for revenge
the everlasting
taste of blood
on there lips

The perfect pitch
the ones that got
just what they wanted
floating dreamily
a peace
ones that lived exactly as
they pleased

                        The low pitch
       ones that may whisper
given up
       that hoped that death was the peace
the answer
     But found it wasn't any better
there hope that filled them
replaced with a sword that wasn't strong
  to others
but sliced
there souls
They are hollow
Dec 2017 · 223
Christmas Past
Nova Born Dec 2017

          Christmas Past
Doesn't last
While you dance
in snow's silver bath
         creeps upon you
Memories swirl
Maybe ones of cookies
You pause to taste the one
that has just begun
on your tongue
Then its gone
never sure
if it twas
Even there
I'm doing more Christmas poems later, maybe one every one or two days until Christmas
Dec 2017 · 188
Weeping Willow
Nova Born Dec 2017
Thy willow tree,
leaves of blue and green,
Standing tall
As a sapling in the fall

The Woodsman
The kind-man
waves his hand
wood carved
something new
But he doesn't realise what
The price he must pay
for he has left
a weeping willow tree
with a arm
But if you look
you might see his grave
he died a old man
but gave back his arm
to give new soil to the land
and now the willow tree
standing tall
soars over them all.
Dec 2017 · 142
I am The Moon
Nova Born Dec 2017
I am The Moon,
oh silver- blue,
watching silently
over you
as you stare
at my brilliance,
And think to yourself
"I wish i was up there,
The Moon
blocking The Sun's
ever glare,
not a worry,
nor a care.."
But I look at you in distain,
For you have not experienced
Look at my craters,
without a pure magnetic-sphere
You have trillions,
a place to call your own!
All I can do is circle
you, protecting from the sun,
for I am The Moon!
You have trillions,
the animals and your own species
While mine are far 'way,
and I keep breaking up every day!
They say that the grass is greener on the
other side,
But I have no grass!
And still you stare,
at me protecting you from
the suns ever glare
Not hearing my cries
But i protect you still,
it is my only will,
I'll give you some hope
for I have none,

I am the Moon,
protecting you
from the Sun's glare
for I have all
the cares.
#moon #silent #suffering
Dec 2017 · 220
My Soul
Nova Born Dec 2017
I look down, with my eyes closed,
drag my feelings down with my eyes
taking the pain in my leg
the pain from my questions
not getting answers
You don't know if I have a soul,
that big bundle of feelings
most claim to have.
That thing that gives them hope
and life
You don't know if what everyone says
is true,
weather they claim they have the
soul of hope and life-
or if they say there soul has been drained,
a hole drawn by knifes and cuts.
I don't know if I have one, or if it's even
my fingers typeing these words,
or someone else's.
Weather the spark of life has been cut by a sword
of frost.
You don't know if the "Meanest" person has good reasons
or bad ones.
Or if the "Nicest" is the cruelest,
if the one that claims to never lie
may be lying right now.

And maybe you do know- but you would have to be
than a mind reader,
you would have to be
the reader
of souls

Tell me, dear reader,
if you know for sure
and Where
in my soul
or Souless
Hehehehehehehh (continues evil laughing forever)
Dec 2017 · 133
The Black Dragon
Nova Born Dec 2017
Once, there was a dragon in her cave,
a different universe, a different day-
her wings, they said, were from the darkness in witch she was bred.
Her eyes, they said, were from all the ones that venture in her cave, and take
A coin, a spear, a necklace, a books page,
but in her fire rage,
she captured there souls, and once again put her lonely head, on the gold wished upon by the ones now dead, she basks in the villages dread.
But once, a maid, force to flee, came to the dragon and asked of she, for a tiny gold coin, a desperate plea, and the dragon nodded her head,
For just because they said, does not make it true, so let me say the truth for you:
the dragon's name was not one of distain, and her wings were not darkness of doom, but peaceful of night, her eyes not from lost souls, exept maybe her own-
She does not mind those who ask, only ones who ask in vain, and, yes, I will say her name -
But don't worry, its not a name of doom.
Nov 2017 · 195
Nova Born Nov 2017
....To the sea the breeze
One more day
of harmony
I walk
Into the waves
Then the harmony
is ripped
into pieces
of a sharp blade
Tugging at my skin
clawing at me
ripping you up
peace by peace

Laughing at you
thinking your safe
in your harmony world
The hurricane comes
the doves
the seagulls
all but you
because you think
your safe
in your harmony world,
but the sharp edges
of my words
my heart
I'm preparing you
pulling you out
Look at the death the doom
the dark
No stars
No sun
Nothing outside your harmony world
but you walk
of whats all around
of what you ignore
but now see what they see
with every step you take
in your harmony world
Nov 2017 · 103
Galaxy of life
Nova Born Nov 2017
and S T R E C H I N G
How far do I go?
Do you know?
They say That I'm never ending
Dangerous, but fascinating
A multi - colored swirl
But maybe you haven't quite seen
if I end
Maybe you just haven't traveled far enough
Maybe there's a end
in a big swirl of light
or a dooms day of darkness-
Maybe there's a new world, just beyond
your reach-
For now, but for the patient, not forever.
Or maybe I never end?
Do you know?
unless ur a ghost, well, then,
Nov 2017 · 81
Nova Born Nov 2017
Tomorrow, I say,
Is cruel torture to say,
"There shall be always today."
"Come catch me, just try!"
"I'll be ahead when your a second away,"
"For with every chance of tomorrow, you find a Today!"
Just step
    Again and again
if the last steps were hard,
you can at least count on that
somewhere ahead
there's another tomorrow
another step
to stand on.
I'm touched you all (Or anyone!) liked my last poem...
Nov 2017 · 96
Wings Until Morning
Nova Born Nov 2017
As I walk along the sidewalk,
Morning's dew and beam,
Listen to the sounds of free birds,
They are free as I wish to be-
But wings are but a dream,
When I lay my head to sleep,
They sprout from my back
Wispy and blue
I fly away from my troubles,
Brand new.
But the other free birds
Don't like me in there sky
they caw and tweet
away my dream, so sweet,
Because with or without Wings,
I can't fly.

— The End —