Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Oct 2014 Denisse
Jamie King
The heart grows warm as the fog is lifted. While the warm light rises above the sun, enlightening the blinded but gifted.

Amated by The smell of roses, swaying with the wind while it caresses the skin, enchanting the soul as you gently breath.
The mind calm as the breeze, teeming with serene thoughts and bliss. Elation being the kiss from nature at peace.

As the day retired the moon provided a sit and we gazed at the sunset while the roses went to sleep.
There are those special days when every moment is auspicious and life is adulated
 Oct 2014 Denisse
Jamie King
Your mind is an abyss sated with emptiness,spore of an ink-jet,
the heart is erupting with repugnant repulsiveness.
Your conscience ravage by your impulsive act.
You indulge in savagery shackled by misery creativity is a mystery .

You diverged from an honest life and now you're perjuring in art you dark-prowlers.
Converged with parasites marauding, Proud-Writers.

Cursed with uncertainty you're embracing lies, in the realm of thieves there's a decaying crown.
We write from our hearts these words reflect our lives through poetry we are defined So stop stealing poems!! And Be original
 Oct 2014 Denisse
Jamie King
You embellish my life, I cherish your love, trust and the time you take just to make me smile

My eyes awe at the sight of your visage. It must have taken God eight days to perfect you before his eyes.

You gave me hope when I thought I  was lost. Your voice is melody echoing the sounds of joy.

In your arms, I am in a garden of heaven basking in bliss, resting in peace but alive and indeed enjoying the aroma of elation swaying with the wind.
When they say nothing is more beautiful than love I smile and tell them that She is.
 Oct 2014 Denisse
Jamie King
We are young men buried in books
Shoveling words every day
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Ours minds drained deep in the pools
Of knowledge. So they say
We are young men buried in books.

We find ourselves caught in hooks
Of wisdom seekers shall we pray?
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Exhausted, some will turn into crooks
While we proudly remain grey
We are young men buried in books.

We bear fruit of hope from the roots
Of pain so follow the rules we lay
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Are we zombies in schools?
In our paths we never stray.
We are young men buried in books
As we are gradually shaped into tools.
I've never been the one to follow structures when it comes to poetry but when I heard about the villanelle and how difficult it is to master I just got excited and inspired
You
Gotta
Take
A
Step
Back
To
Really
See
Everything
Seriously...
 Oct 2014 Denisse
melodie foley
you've
finally
snuck
your
way
under
my
skin
I can feel just how badly this will go
Next page