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Mar 2018 · 444
Roses Burn
Darius M Buckley Mar 2018
Roses burn with intensity,
Each peddle opening wider.
Reveal the flame within,
Let me taste the sparks you hide there.
Hands touch when words can’t explain,
Hearts beat when music can’t exclaim.
Two as one, let us come together in this garden.
The branches hardened by years of fear, now bend into my hands, Pulling me in deeper.
There’s a symphony in my bed.
The moans linger in dissonant color.
My heart beats like a drum every time I touch her.
Hours and hours, moving through time.
Moments of silence, when you were mine.
This poem was written for a short film called "5" about various aspects of the male experience. The film is a "visual poem" that brings each intimate piece to life. This is probably the most raw and revealing I've ever been in my work.
Aug 2015 · 699
PRINCES
Darius M Buckley Aug 2015
If I was never perfect, then why did you tempt me,

If I wasn't what you wanted, why did I fall,  

I smashed through clouds, round and round,

Now I feel like I hit the solid ground.


Pretty boys with pretty faces,

Princes in the sky have got you on tight laces,

Castles high up with charming smiles,

Perfect sunsets with kisses laid on the isles.


I stand in the distance wondering why?

Why I let my heart fall, and break,

For heaven's sake why wasn't I awake to see,

It was never me, but the boy in the distance you ran to see.


Prince Charming with his perfect glimmer,

I myself a slight bit dimmer, maybe slimmer,

Broad and proud of his stature,

Tossing her up with a smile to catch her.


He glances over at me and I meet his eye,

He smiles and says hello, and I wonder why,

He comes up to me and says hello,

My name he wants to know?


He says what a nice title for a prince,

I should smile, stand up straight, be more like him.

Maybe I'll catch her eye if I pout my lips,

Or curl my hair just like this.


He takes my chin and lifts it up,

He opens my shirt to show some blow,

He runs his hand into my hair to curl it just right,

One hair dips down, with a slight breeze to the right.


He takes off my reading glasses,

Tosses my book to the waters,

Looks at my shoes and doesn't even bother,

But my face he sees and steps back.


"I know I'm hideous, that's all you can see"

"Please, you're a...."

"My friend, you're a prince indeed."

She glances back toward me, a smile this time I see.


He leans toward my ear from behind,

Whispers in the slightest tone,

"Prince Charming, she's looking for you..."

"You can have my throne"


I turn to him and I say "no".

"She was not interested in me but my face."

"In that case, why waste."

My love is no woman, but my beautiful book.


And so the boy walked along with his new look,

Charming girls from here to there,

His charm was dear and fair,

But for his stories he read with care.


He stumbled upon a ******* the way,

She was pretty and blessed with good looks,

But he saw not her look but her book,

They shared a glances and laughed in delight.


She said to his surprise,

"A prince has a knowledge of the books not his looks,"

"Indeed I may agree", he said to she,

As they walked hand in hand, book to knee.
Jul 2015 · 589
m i s e r y
Darius M Buckley Jul 2015
m i s e r y... that seems to be all my life can be. Is there an e s c a p e for me? Maybe somewhere out at s e a. Away I r u n & f l e e out into the misty waters of finally... f r e e.
Feb 2014 · 557
amongst the golden stars
Darius M Buckley Feb 2014
amongst the golden stars
i await your return
i've seen them shimmer
day in and day out.

forgive me for letting go
i'm sorry for losing you
in the nighttime rush
you fell silent to me, a dimming hush.

the heart can only ache so much
till it gives out
the day can only linger on so long
till the dusk scatters about.

so here i am
drifting in the open air
never leaving our cloud too far
here amongst our golden stars...
Darius M Buckley Feb 2014
An Unfortunate turn of events,
That life would bring a muck,
The wheel of fortune turns so quick,
Misfortune given, ****** luck.

An unfortunate means of life,
That I be cursed with fear,
Obviously, my wheel of fortune,
Has lost a ******* gear.

An Unfortunate turn of events,
That life would bring a muck,
The only word to describe me now,
Is.... to be nice ill just say ****.

An unfortunate means of life,
That I should click-a-di-cluck,
This gosh ****, god forbid,
Mother fluckling, abyss of luck...

Ughhh.... This *****.....
This is a humorous poem I wrote before seeing a play, I was late without a ticket and mad... I hate missing the Overture. Lol
Feb 2014 · 452
A Sound In The Woods
Darius M Buckley Feb 2014
I heard a sweet sound,
That echoed through the forest.
I heard a sweet echo,
That rung through the trees.

It was not a beast,
That walked in the wilderness.
It was not a beast,
It was a sweet song to sing.

But one day the sound disappeared,
sang no more to me.
It's voice faded from my heart,
silenced in my soul.

Voices never sang so sweet,
Bows never touched the string.
Tears never fell,and
Hearts never leaped.
I actually wrote this for a High School poem assignment, I could hear the phrase, "A Sound In The Woods" echo in my mind, so I wrote it down and figured out a text off of it. I actually end up entering it into a anthology of young poetry!
Darius M Buckley Oct 2013
Oh, how my heart aches,
To know you won't be here,
Oh, how I wish you could stay,
Divine destiny confirmed my fear.

But I know, from some bright mansion
You'll watch me as I pass the gates
My heart will never forget you in such dark fate,
As God's destiny would have them.

Thank you for showing me,
That life is a precious gift,
A beautiful moment of glee,
That's shared between us.

Your life was a gift to me,
A precious memory,
That will live in me,
Until the end of time.

Your heart is not dead,
For it beats in me, blood running smooth,
Your eyes are not of dust,
For now, your knowledge taught me to see as you do.

I hear the world as a sweet symphony,
As you once did,
From a wise sage, to a curious kid,
Is how I looked up to you.

You taught me how different we were,
Yet how close, by God's love,
I still remember the knowledge you instilled,
Echoing from some bright mansion above.

I remember the garden you grew,
Filled with sweet plants and fruits,
But I was also there, my friend
A curious seed, now grown a man in a world so new.

So as I walked through the mysterious gates of life,
I'll hold your lessons of life and your love,
I'll hold them dear through hardships and strife,
For I know you'll watch me, from some bright mansion above.

Dedicated to the Life of Morris Arnowitz
This poem is dedicated to a good friend of mine who I lost a few years ago.
Darius M Buckley Oct 2013
Oh shall I die in flaming waters,
A fate I shall not declare in vain,
For I shall see with new eyes,
The glory of your name.

Oh how my soul would glisten,
in the dark night,
Engulfing in the luminous glow,
Releasing Me with all my might.

Oh Lord should it be I,
To drown in flaming waters?
An    i     n    f     e     r     n    o
For such a martyr? Yes.

I lay myself on burning streams,
Where cooling waters approach,
Moments of darkness lingered,
Now illuminate streams.

Burn my skin in righteous waters,
Let my old skin whither off,
On C O O L I N G  W A T E R S
Fade the darkness from within.

Now the cooling waters flow within,
Bringing peace of wind,
Where rocks were once rough,
Now smoothed and thin.

Shall I G        L        I        D        E
Across soothing waters, without my
Skin.

Rather I be warmed by his righteous
I.       N.      F.       E.      R.      N.     O.    
That now burns from within...

May I ask ye saints... Does he burn within?

Or does your comforting springs,
Extinguish the fire within,
So stuck in your faith, confidently.

Are you blind to the darkness that fades?
This poem came from an interesting place. I wrote it in the hallway of my dorm. I was mad for some reason and writing this was some type of mental therapy. I have no idea why, but it came out nice.
Darius M Buckley Oct 2013
i saw the autumn leaves

f
  A
     L
        l

like downy rain. they crinkled and fell softly to the Green earth.

silently surrendering their souls to a

GRAVE
of brown ashes.

simple stories, they all possessed
tragic in nature...

the green leaf filled with ENvy, cried out, "why should the brown fall first, why not I!"

He lay alone to fall by his lonesome self, turning brown as he imagined, only to fall by himself like a lonely book on an aching self.

the orange one desired to be like the sun, she saw the dawn a glow with ORANGE delight, and wanted to fly up there in the bluey sky...

the red loved her soft home amongst the tallest branch

she out cried as he let her go, to fall among the ashes of others, her beauty was FINE,

only at a glance. It died as she drifted farther from her last chance...  

the one that mesmerized me the most, was the Brown one,

He D R I F T E D across the morning air

dreaming of a long awaited rest.
                                                   d
he had dangled and F            e
                                   l      A t
                                      o
                                             from,

west                      to                  east

         his journey was

L                      O              N            G.

but he found no wrong in his life,
only joy,

he cared no more of Vanity, or GREED, or the wonders of the Sky.

he had lived his life in these heights and he long to rest among the Greenly pastures of life.

God blew a soft wind and lifted him off course,

he now drifted to the greeny land and laid there, in pure

BLISS

he was not worried of the fall or his homely grave, he dreamed of the simple pleasures of this Bark filled home and drifted away

like an aerial nomad in gay nature.

Unlike the others, the brown leaf was blessed to die among the soft green ground,

a blessing for a humble spirit, cheerful at HearT.

as the other men walked along the thoroughfare,

i watched the autumn leaves f
                                               a
                                                l
                                                l
, like the spirit of the browny leaf,

i was humbled and very happy
I was inspired to write this while walking on campus from class. I saw beautiful red, yellow, and a nice assortment of colored leaves falling from the trees. It made me imagine their sorrow and joy as if they had real lives. I was inspired by the unique structure of E. E. Cummings! I felt that the reader would appreciate seeing the leaves fall on paper lol.

— The End —