Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
  Jul 2015 Skaidrum
The Dragon Prince
Hollow black jasper on my tongue
Leaving ivory leaves twining down my throat
This disease weighs on my mind
The gold reflects back my skeleton
Ink teeth bending your silver sword
It's hardest to remember the beauty
A lonely mouth wanting to speak
Holding the hour spinning with regrets
Fading my mind in sunset strings
These sickly hounds aren't like their wolf brothers
Rotten stones lining the graveyard
***** out these cinders
And leave me the coals

*I hope I haven't left yet
  Jul 2015 Skaidrum
Sherry Asbury
It is a sky of ice scattered on velvet,
spreading its soft, dense blanket
up and to the edges of the universe.
Moon - a mirror for the gods to peer into,
reflecting slices of light that shine.
Treetop fingers write shadowy messages
across the silence of night.
Still as breath held in anticipation,
the night huddles and hovers over all.
Soft winds sing a lullaby to the ears
of all who are awake to hear its tune.
Earth sighs deeply in pleasure
and spins on its stick with rhythm.
Such beauty as this night, wasted
for the lack of eyes to appreciate.
I love night - but live in large city and cannot go out.
  Jul 2015 Skaidrum
Liliana Jaworska
Afterlife, a reflection of soul?
A gap we slip through
When membranes between layers unfold us
To Zero Point;
Touching consciousness absolute

The womb we go back to
Where dark does not hurt our higher selves
The first seed rooted
In Living Light
Growing with original vibration
The first sound
AUM

Acoustic Universal Mantra
Waveforms...
Existing in the space between colors
Blending with all that occupies.
A passage through an enigma
Spanning epchos of luminous flux

Patterns of conscious light,
we emerged from the Void
From fractals of an eternal soul
A Universal breath
Fuse us with flesh;
Divine ballads in Golden Mean
Joann Chan-McKeon
  Jul 2015 Skaidrum
The Last Wordsmith
"Why don't you write something happy?"
Because it'd be a lie.
So no I won't write something happy,
not while I want to die.
Poetry isn't something choose,
it isn't just a skill that I use,
I can't make it stop, it's not my choice,
they're not my ideas, they're just in my voice.
Skaidrum Jul 2015
.
What a tragedy.
Her love was her Forte on sheets of bronze,
Symphonies to sway all the right colors---
And his his eyes were foreign
to the music.
No way to read her passion existed.

Simple misunderstandings can destroy us....just like that.
.
For Belle.

© Copywrite Skaidrum
  Jul 2015 Skaidrum
Kyle Howard
As she lay there
On the couch
One million miles away
I wondered
As I watched her sleep
Does she still
Dream of me,
Or do I exist
Only in the agony
Of her reality?
Am I a nightmare
All too real?
Skaidrum Jul 2015
An armor of cloth
is all I have to offer.
                                                 resonate like tiger lilies
     A shield of granite
splinters like glass
                                                  extend further than orchids
         A sword of ink
spun from the backbones
of poets awaits you
                                                   bleed thicker than roses
This is the art
of flirting with
death and
having a one night
stand
with life.
.
She loves me, she loves me not....

© Copywrite Skaidrum
Next page