Shin - Hello Poetry

Shin Nov 23

Oh to love the chilled touch of winter turned to spring.
Slush dusted slabs containing multitudes of grey.
Recollections of Summer, form mist brushed past ones lips
as the air idly dances, across another morning missed.

A faint whistle breaks through a preview of green,
and somewhere strangers don one final jacket.
Long-aching bones grow less brittle moment to moment,
and finally, friends one and all feel faintly more fantastic.

Shin Oct 18

We Carry On

Such ivory skin, pockmarked by forgotten remorse.
She speaks a soft sigh, a dust-filled voice grown oh so hoarse.

A tongue dipped in the envy of a long butchered youth.
Whispers wearily waxed, softened by gin and vermouth.

A web cast, born out of the needle's frozen pinprick,
bloodied and battered, fading away, quiet and quick.

We fight because we're tired, we're tired because we're kind.
And yet we sit, yet we wonder, why we've grown confined.

An empty promise spat upon the setting sun.
Tell me, what do we do when the work is done?

#age #time

Shin Jul 20

An Attic in Winter

Parchment frayed, edge crumbled to silky ash.
A single candle’s flicker caught dancing
to whispers from dust crackling their secrets.

The window sweats, powdered by evening snow.
His droplets quench the thirst of the rotted floor.
A mouse scurries, elated for its flow.

Etched in the corner, a rope swings freely.
Held together by habit above all.
Beneath it rests nothing more than shade.

#attic #alone

Shin Jul 11

who shall shelter you from the cold?

Softly spoken secrets, scattered and stained.
A thorn’s thoughtful gaze casting its judgment.
There is no moral here left to be gained.
She may try, but no more shall she repent.

Seconds, minutes, brushstrokes drawing the dawn.
Each moment wasted by her hesitance.
“What does it all mean? Is it truly gone?
Or perhaps it’s just cheap happenstance.”

A facsimile. Mere memories of you.
She blinks her eyes, and greets the morning dew.

#love

Shin Apr 24

A Filthy, No Good Hypocrite

Pockets greased with the blood of the displaced.
A rotund belly fed by their lost meals.
His echoed demands for equality
squashed beneath his own shining leather boot.

Shin Mar 30

She Splashes in Springtime with Dandelions in her Hair

Play in the mud rub dirt in that old scab.
Let the rainwater wash it all away again.
It's okay to dance; feel the wind in your breath.
Plaster that smile, glue on that grin.
Trust me, it'll purge us of all our sin.

Have yourself a wonderful little life.

Shin Mar 24

An Impoverished Darkness.

The ash of a putrid cigarette's smoke
stained the air, yellowed pockmarks upon its flesh.

A home kept warm by cancer and rats,
their sighs a chorus within the rafters.

An unloved daughter silently brushed her hair.
Do you ever wonder, was she here or there?

In a world so vast, it's painfully small.
There is no peace when the cycle carries on.

The ebb and flow of de-

Enough. We're merely wasting your time
Return to bed. Soon enough the sun shall rise.