rebecca: Favorites

Aug 2015 rebecca

ryn

Many a notion I'd lay in indelible ink.
How the morning sun would harvest the contours of your face.
Accentuating...
Elevating...
Revealing...
Your majestic beauty.
Reminiscent of a different time and place.

Many a thought I'd pen in indelible ink.
When your breath meets with mine,
they'd hold their own conversation.
Deeply entranced,
In an everlasting dance
that would last forever.
Exchanging gaits of grandeur,
great longing and pine.

Many an inkling I'd etch in indelible ink.
The way my moon never gets eaten.
It'll balloon to its fullest...
Beaming it's brightest.
Seeping from its edges,
gushes forming rivers...
Bathing my earth in heavenly silver.
Calming the thundering hooves...
In my heart with rhyme and reason.

There are but three words...
Words so sacred I dare not utter in vain.
Proclamation so heavy my chest could hardly
hold in rein.

I've immortalised them here...
But in *invisible ink...

Because no one would understand...
Of emotions so grand.
No one would have a clue...
That...

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
.
.

#iloveyou #ink #hellopoetry107

Aug 2015 rebecca

Dreams Delayed

Aug 2015 rebecca

Kaleidoscope Prhyme

Dreams Delayed

15 | 31 Poems for August

I’m slowly progressing but progressing nonetheless.
The worst thing I could do is give up on myself.
The worst thing I did this week was give up on myself.
Sometimes dreams delayed feel like dreams denied.
If you asked how I’m holding up and I responded by saying “I’m okay” then chances are I probably just lied.
Everyone’s caught up in their own world, if you don’t see me tomorrow then know that I tried.
I’m sorry I don’t want to bother or burden anyone with my problems.
I know you’ve never seen me cry but I can no longer hide all that I’m feeling inside.
Some people suffer in silence because of self-importance and a little bit of pride.
But that’s not me, I put my heart on paper and I let it all bleed.
But lately I’ve come to realise that not everyone likes to read.
So I ask myself, who am I writing all these resplendent poems to?

#poetry #life #dreams #poems #pride #august #resplendent #kaleidoscopeprhyme #31poemsforaugust

Aug 2015 rebecca

Infinite

Aug 2015 rebecca

Rapunzoll

Infinite

You dream of someplace
where the men have better
reasons for calling and you
no longer feel so alone.

Where the sun shines
without the inevitability
of the rain, where the skies
aren't blackened by the
smoke of his cigarettes.

You'll exhale the fresh air,
and you won't remember
the colour of his eyes or the
scar above his left brow.

You'll forget how he
smirked when you said
that you loved him.

You're moving on, the
past will no longer suffocate
you with the fragrance of
its cheap perfume, you'll
learn to count the days rather
than to tick them off.

One day you'll step
forward without looking
back and you'll realize
you are infinite and he is
just a glitch in time.

#love #heartbreak #sad #depression #life #pain #memories #hurt #thoughts #you

Aug 2015 rebecca

In the distance

Aug 2015 rebecca

Andy Cave

In the distance

I stand in this valley
a flood of colors surround me
green, blue, purple, yellow
a bounty of flowers all around.
Jagged cliffs stand in the distance
towering, mysterious, desolate
beckoning me to come near.
I run towards them
through the valley of flowers
through the calm sea of colors
off to the unknown that awaits
at the top of the cliffs.

Aug 2015 rebecca

My Wars are laid away in Books—

Aug 2015 rebecca

Emily Dickinson

My Wars are laid away in Books—

1549

My Wars are laid away in Books—
I have one Battle more—
A Foe whom I have never seen
But oft has scanned me o’er—
And hesitated me between
And others at my side,
But chose the best—Neglecting me—till
All the rest, have died—
How sweet if I am not forgot
By Chums that passed away—
Since Playmates at threescore and ten
Are such a scarcity—

Aug 2015 rebecca

Faces of the Deep

Aug 2015 rebecca

Onoma

Faces of the Deep

There's a being seated
at the window...the breaking
ends of perception mothering
their pearl.
Its prayerful poise electrifies
the passing light of day...
hideous and beautiful
blending blindly.
Purple with majesty, as a distant
mountaintop crammed through
the eye of a needle...pointedly
soul through the driftings of its
original score.
Unlit senses that can't place
their miraculous conveyance...
entering and exiting the same window
simultaneously.
Aware that it's aware...there are troubles
in paradise of only supreme Authoring,
as latent creation forthwith heartbreak.
Pounding its very chest...with oceanic
spanning--faces upon faces of The Deep,
Diane Arbus photoing a featureless form.