Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jun 2017
Becca P
art
when I search for my art I look into you - into the electrical blue sparks in your eyes that fuel my love and ignite a burn in my mind and lungs and crackles onto paper.

when you look for your art you pick up your guitar, and pluck at it like you do at my heart strings, the ringing of the notes in my ears burning blissfully to your tune.

I long for you to one day look at me and for my paint to swirl on a canvas in front of you, merging into beauty so I can one day be enough for you.
 Jun 2017
Shanath
As a kid I found a hammer,
But I knew not how to use it.
I carried it everywhere
Like most girls carried
Barbies.

Then I saw a few men
Use their hands thrashing walls.
The walls stayed intact
But their knuckles
Deformed.

So I learnt a new trick
I waved my hammer like a wand,
And ran through the town
Entering buildings, breaking
People.

When the violence in the world ended,
I tried to caress people
But instead I hit them hard.
Then I realized my hands were the
Hammer.

So I thrashed the mirror first
To see how it could feel.
I saw it broke, the world stayed intact.
So with my hands I bashed my
Head.
The usual thoughts.
 Jun 2017
Colm
Have you ever known the most of this?
Or the truth which is
That it pulls a young man by his feet
To the bottom of the sea
When he realizes that
She isn't thinking about you
You will know it when you feel it.
 Jun 2017
LittleFreeBird
You loved my gentle
You loved my quiet
Can you learn to love my ferocity?
My cacophony?

Aren't I just as beautiful
When I'm burning?
 Jun 2017
Vikshipta
Snatched in betwixt'
The Shifting
and Switching
All midst the alters..
and moods..
The hasty cyclone..
The Rapid cycling..
The Stumbling..
The hurling..
One after other
All these emotions'
transposing-
From exhilaration.
grandiosity.
The loquacious episodes..
To Exasperation.
Despondency.
Despise.
Remorse.
The floating. dripping.salty..rampage.
And
amid all frantic..
all the chaos..
There..
this effete voidness..
Gleaning selves up'
unhanding 'em again
Gleaning.
Unhanding.
Gleaning And unhanding .
Over and over
Again
 Jun 2017
Colm
For just one day
Could the rain clouds cover the entire earth?
Could the rains wash the weariness of another Monday away?
And connect our hands, our eyes, our hearts?
To tip the glass and spill the words out, quietly
Until all is spoken and soaked in happiness
And the doubts have all been washed away
Into the flooded pasture of memories

For we are such on such a day
But even more so now than ever
That is, if the clouds could cover the entire earth
In which case we could look up and see
That the same old rain falling down upon us, you and me
Smiling as it hit the ground
Until the splashing molding droplets
Are just a memory to be relived

Let the clouds cover and the raindrops flow
To ever be
Rain day!
 Jun 2017
Jim Morrison
-Moment of inner freedom
when the mind is opened & the
infinite universe revealed
& the soul is left to wander
dazed & confus’d searching
here & there for teachers & friends.
~~~

Moment of Freedom
as the prisoner
blinks in the sun
like a mole
from his hole

a child’s 1st trip
away from home

That moment of Freedom
~~~

LAmerica
Cold treatment of our empress
LAmerica
The Transient Universe
LAmerica
Instant communion and
communication

lamerica
emeralds in glass
lamerica
searchlights at twi-light
lamerica
****** streets in the pale dawn
lamerica
robed in exile
lamerica
swift beat of a proud heart
lamerica
eyes like twenty
lamerica
swift dream
lamerica
frozen heart
lamerica
soldiers doom
lamerica
clouds & struggles
lamerica
Nighthawk

doomed from the start
lamerica
“That’s how I met her,
lamerica
lonely & frozen
lamerica
& sullen, yes
lamerica
right from the start”

Then stop.
Go. The wilderness between.
Go round the march.
~~~

he enters stage:

Blood boots. Killer storm.
Fool’s gold. God in a heaven.
Where is she?
Have you seen her?
Has anyone seen this girl?
snap shot (projected)
She’s my sister.
Ladies & gentlemen:
please attend carefully to these words & events
It’s your last chance, our last hope.
In this womb or tomb, we’re free of the
swarming streets.
The black fever which rages is safely
out those doors
My friends & I come from
Far Arden w/ dances, &
new music
Everywhere followers accrue
to our procession.
Tales of Kings, gods, warriors
and lovers dangled like
jewels for your careless pleasure

I’m Me!
~~~

Can you dig it.
My meat is real.
My hands- how they move
balanced like lithe demons
My hair- so twined & writhing
The skin of my face- pinch the cheeks
My flaming sword tongue
spraying verbal fire-flys
I’m real.
I’m human
But I’m not an ordinary man
No No No
~~~

What are you doing here?
What do you want?
Is it music?
We can play music.
But you want more.
You want something & someone new.
Am I right?
Of course I am.
I know what you want.
You want ecstasy
Desire & dreams.
Things not exactly what they seem.
I lead you this way, he pulls that way.
I’m not singing to an imaginary girl.
I’m talking to you, my self.
Let’s recreate the world.
The palace of conception is burning.

Look. See it burn.
Bask in the warm hot coals.

You’re too young to be old.
You don’t need to be told
You want to see things as they are.
You know exactly what I do
Everything
~~~

I am a guide to the Labyrinth

Monarch of the protean towers
on this cool stone patio
above the iron mist
sunk in its own waste
breathing its own breath
Next page