Rhymes are liquid,
That I know.
They are as liquid
As melted snow.

Rhymes are liquid
They can flow
And take the shape
Of what you shape it so
Rhymes are most definitely liquid.

Rhymes can leak
Out of your mouth.
Just like water
Both liquid, no doubt.

Just like room temp. mercury
Is rhyme’s liquidity.

Rhymes not contained
Can be a mess.
Just like how
Spilled milk
Is not the best.

This poem here
Is evidence
That rhymes being liquid
Makes so much sense.

the air is cooler
and the taste is bitter
these last moments of comfort
are my only solace
for what's to come

hello to my 29 followers...
i wanted to let you know that a couple of my poems will be taken down in the coming days, including dichotomy pt. 1: votive and perhaps the poems in the crossroads series along with gratitude and whatever else i feel needs to be removed.

there are a number of sweet, kindred souls on hp whose writing always amazes, leaving me hungering for more. it's these people that have shown me what it means to be a human being and the virtues of poetic catharsis. how strangers can convey their deepest emotions to other strangers through artful verse. their words inspire. always. i don't have the space or words to sufficiently thank them all, lest i offend anyone dear to me*, but it's these people that inspire me to write.

however, being the stubborn-a-- idealistic pisces i am, i know i can improve. for a period of time, i believed my poetry was actually good (hA nOpe). but after reading the works of some poets on this site, i felt my poetry was absolute s---. i was not writing from the heart. i understand self-deprecation is bad and whatnot but i sincerely know i can do better. i'm taking down all the poems i personally feel are inadequate. they will eventually be 'refurbished' and republished.

for the next month or so, i'm going to try and get back in touch with my artistic self, an artistic renaissance if you will. not just in poetry per se, but the other liberal arts as well, along with extracurriculars and academics. school begins in two weeks and when it does, i want to come back the best version of myself.

thank you for all of your support! reading your comments always makes my day. i'll be back, better than before. again, thank you!

~reignier

Look down.
There’s a whole world below,
dug out and timber-framed,
mapped and named.
Its tunnels stretch for miles
under the mountain.

Once it shook with blasting,
screech of train, and whistles.
The coal was iridescent blue.
Headlights on a curved track
burst like shooting stars
out of the deep.

That mirror world is dark now.
The men laid down their tools,
and took the mantrip
to the surface, home.
In the quiet,
hear the mountain sigh.