Ariana: Favorites

Mar 2012 Ariana

Let the poetry of others repose in majestic halls:
My poems are filler for paper shredders,
For packing in shipping boxes,
And backing for flypaper sticky strips;
To wipe the muddy soles of shoes
That have seen too much of springtime
In the garden.

Others poetry fills the airwaves, and sits between the covers of books;
My poetry is for grocery lists,
And sudden messages you need to scribble while on the telephone,
And maps to undiscovered geneological treasures
That are only a township away-
To trace the faces of cool tombstones
Under a mid-day sun.

You won't find my poetry near any other kind of list
That doesn't say get bleach, dog food, and toilet paper.
Still, my poetry is from a well lettered life-
I have written all my heartbeats, and most of my sighs
Into sibylline hieroglyphics, from midnight initiations
In the secret brotherhood, of my own soul:
And I will die a freeman, because nobody
Will ever feel the need to own any of these words.

Mar 2012 Ariana

Will You Be There?

Mar 2012 Ariana

Curio Arca

Will You Be There?

Wolves in the sky are chasing
Sun and moon.
Winter is cold and cruel;
There is a great deal
Of fear and foreboding
In our stories.
In our lives
Light is dimmer,
Hell is nearer,
Brother slays brother in dark places.
The dark places are growing.

In a once great city I watched a man
Be eaten by shadows.

When fire and hail have scoured the earth,
And the riders of Muspelheim have trod bones and blood,
When the sun and the moon are gone,
And humankind has given out its last collective wail,
Will you be there,
Waiting for me beneath the branches of Yggdrasil?
Will you be there?

Mar 2012 Ariana

Your Sincerely

Mar 2012 Ariana

Salooma Osman

Your Sincerely

As he spoke words of wisdom, his voice lingers within me, so smooth, so touching, his lyrical abilities compared to one of a poet, so deep, so captivating yet so sincere.
I ask God ‘Is this the finest of your creatures?’ Cuz’ never before have I seen such perfection in one. In my eyes he was an epitome of an angle, yet even more superior.

The words he spoke were like forbidden breaths, never been spoke nor heard before. His words would flow in the air, entering every door, captivating every soul grasping every pole, not wanting to leave yet that force would not allow it remain.

His bittersweet terminologies break down every perception, altering every intellect so epidemic, so rational; his flow plays within every heart with melodies of an electric guitar.
He seemed omniscient. He was veracious. He was simply magnificent.

And as the stars cast beyond the horizon, I remain hung upon the sensation, the sensation which clings upon my skin, so effortlessly it makes me wonder if I’m living a dream cuz never before have I felt something so beautiful.
Yet I still remain astonished by his existence.

Mar 2012 Ariana

Marooned

Mar 2012 Ariana

Sansara Justinovich

Marooned

Marooned

Vapid beauty of this room
Frothing carpet, ocean blue
One wall me, the other you
What lies between is residue

Scribed on soggy, shipwrecked parchment
Questions asked, time forgotten
Who are we?
What do we know?
Into these questions Summer flows
And thrashes at your Autumn’s brinks
Yearlong they torment my brain
Infringing on every season

If not for the manic scheme
To love and having loved be loved
This correspondence to a distant land
With stars, more numerous and brightly lit
Than my burgeoning highway exit
Would by no means have left my hand

But if, against all odds, it will prevail
Extolling truth’s folly, my sorrowful tale
Quells with reason my groundless pride
At having docked on your passionless harbor
Unloading platonic cargo during our youth’s ebbing tide
Must not create union of body or mind
You swallow my horizon, like the sun twilight
Though, one need not chase that orange orb for tomorrow

In this night without fortitude, lewd humor consumes me
Singing with the mouth on my head and your voice inside
I plunge into darkness
Skimming its silky surface
Before zipping it behind me

Shall I drown, as I have lived?
In vain, my dreams your subjects
Taken for ransom in your heart’s Tripoli
Not surmising recompense, I forfeit this
A note belying resonance
Of my heart’s last echoed throe
One desperate effort, giving up
Feed every vestige to the void
Wading, torso encumbered
Each sullen relic of your memory
Falls to the deep’s frigid ebony
Then, only too late am I cognizant
That my own breath is tribute yet spent
Therefore if I were to float or swim
I’d give you every ounce of who I am
Convince you to relinquish me
From your tepid, spurning sea
Then lying beneath moist underbrush
Slowly, breathe no more

MMX

This is basically a revision of my poem Anstoss

My recitation here:
http://youtu.be/v7LdsUwUCEM

Mar 2012 Ariana

Theft and Salvation

Mar 2012 Ariana

Ben Nicolls

Theft and Salvation

People say I'm bitter and jaded.
This may be true but it is not
without good cause.

This attitude resonates out
from me because as good as life is,
I find myself lacking the one thing
I need to be satisfied with anything.

You

I see you around with your boy
and I try to contain myself
try to pretend that I don't care
but it's all I can do not to turn
and slam the first random
smiling soul into the floor
or spit venom in the face
of whomever dares question me.

People may think its silly
that I should want you so badly
when I could have my pick from
so many willing others
because lets face it
people pay to look this good
and it doesn't cost me a thing.

But other people are only fun
for a little while, when there's
something fun to do with them.

You are always fun during the
little time I manage to steal
from the rest of the world,
time we can spend in our own way
just you and me.

Because in these stolen hours
we do something different,
and as much as I go around
with my mask on and my claws out,
you inspire an end to the storm,

your hair shining like the sun
your eyes as clear as the sky
and like that post storm still,
I feel calm, safe, and refreshed.

But there can be only
one sun
one sky
and so I will wait
though I may not want to
until I can steal more time
and feel normal once again.

Mar 2012 Ariana

Interview with a Caterpillar

Mar 2012 Ariana

Alys

Interview with a Caterpillar

Caterpillar green
Have you ever been
Inside a cocoon
Or will you soon?

Under milky moon
I’ll make my cocoon,
Only then I’ll sleep
A slumber deep;

When I’m set to fly
In the topaz sky,
With my velvet cape
I will escape;

But for now I’ll squirm
Lowly as a worm,
Hiding ‘neath this bush
From hungry thrush.

Mar 2012 Ariana

A Spark

Mar 2012 Ariana

Keenan Martin

A Spark

You need a spark inside the mind,
That makes you stop and take the time
To read the signs in between the lines.
You need a spark inside the mind.

You need a spark to lead a team,
To chase a common goal or dream,
Invision things never before seen,
You need that spark to get a ring.

You need a spark to have chemistry,
Or the relationship may be history.
Though the future is a mystery,
You need the spark for chemistry.

You need a spark for love to be kind,
The meaning of life is underlined,
You want that spark that ignited the first fire of mankind,
But that's a treasure hard to find.

I wish it was a little more interesting than it was. sorry

Mar 2012 Ariana

Tired

Mar 2012 Ariana

Nabilaa

Tired

I'm just so tired
I can't wait,
I don't want to wait
I want it now.
I want to get away
Away from it all
Set free, be free
Let go.
But I want you there, too.
The problem is,
the dilemma is,
the trouble is,
I just can't seem to find you.
With glimpses I see ogres.
And they are not you.
I just can't seem to find you.
No matter the time spent,
Even with the short glimpses of you,
they fade,
it seems as if you can't be found.
Impossible. Impractical. Useless.
Do you want to be found?
Must it be this hard
to find you?
Centuries spent
walking through this tunnel of thought
the one that curves and spirals
the one that is dim
the one that is cold
the one that just doesn't end.
I want it to end.

I'm just so tired.

— The End —