Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Rise softly, rise gently, waking dawn
And let the drowsy sun yawn a while
Beside me, my love sleeps in peaceful bliss
With crescent eyes and a crescent smile
The morning breeze may tease the blooms
That wait to unfold with the sun's blush
- But softly, blow gently, oh morning breeze
Let the wind chimes be still, quiet, hushed

Rest your melodies, singing birds and bees
And cease the fluttering of your wings
The hum, the drone, the medleys
Quiet the rustling and the whispering
Why gurgle so loud - river- change your course
Flow far away, past the mangroves
For how lustily you gush, bubbles and froth
Shhshh...love sleeps - eyes closed

But alas - the river stays, making its music
The birds from their songs shall never cease
And the morning breeze breathes free
Tinkling wind chimes, hustling leaves
Rise - the sun shall and burst in gold
And the world'll be in daylight's warm embrace
My love will waken yet I still revel -
For sun lights the grace of my love's face
You are caressed by moonlight
and kissed by the sun.
You are made of nectar
and salty waves
and magical herbs
that grow as wild as your heart.

     You are the Vessel of Life,
a goddess on earth.
You are a healer, a witch
and a gypsy queen,
in tune with the cycles
and quivers of the world.

     You are made of milk and honey
and the crisp winds of autumn live in your hair.
Your spirit is rose petals
and burning embers,
sweet spring water
and nightshade berries.

     Your body is in sync with the Moon
that rules the ebb and flow of the ocean.
Your eyes reflect the calm of a glassy lake
and the ferocity of a storm.
Your tears are the drops of dew
on blades of grass at dusk
and your laughter makes flowers bloom.

     You are the product of billions of years
of colliding planets,
dying stars,
swirling galaxies
and perfect chaos.

      You have the terrifying immensity
of the universe encompassed
in your beautiful body—
How can you sit here with a straight face
and tell me you feel empty?
I have a hard time
linking words to emotions
and emotions to actions
and all this to meaning.

I'll slowly build up
my library of feeling.
But I wonder exactly
what I was missing.

When I scrutinized us,
I did so without seeing.
I thought I knew all.
I saw my own meaning.

Life doesn't have meaning;
what it does have is people.
Now I say what I mean,
and I listen to feeling.

I've struggled with friends,
with parents, and with brothers.
I knew motivations
without knowing them.

Now I start to see people.
We're closer together.
Done connecting the dots,
we connect to each other.
 Jul 2016 Edgar Gordon
Eloi
Cold hearted,
Iced blood,
These feelings of pain, come in like a flood.

Blue veins,
****** lips,
Take some more pills, go for a kip.

Visable rib cage,
Hunched back,
Skin and bones,
Smoke some crack.

Black eyes,
Bruised lies,
Smoking in chains to pass the time.

Winter comes,
Cold and ******,
I sit here alone,
Waiting for you to come home.


Christmas arrives,
I wonder why,
You had to leave,
And no longer breathe.

So, I'll stay in bed all day,
Put the gifts away,
And remember the day,
That you said you'd stay.
I've made a point of making the difference
between being in love with someone
and loving them.
Being in love is eating strawberry ice-cream
or holding hands on a walk in the park.
It is the smell of summer,
it is the touch of the sea breeze,
it is waking up from a sweet dream.
But loving,
loving is rainy days spent in between bed sheets,
is it the immaculate silence
you can only share with a heart that beats to the same rhythm as yours,
it is the sound of thunder.
So when you tell me you love me,
I almost want to believe it,
but I look into your eyes and understand
you have no idea what you're talking about.
You're confusing it with fascination, darling,
you're confusing it with curiosity.
You're taking the street lights for stars.
You're taking the depth of the ocean
for familiar territory.
Your desire to figure me out,
to put me together like a puzzle
and the moonlight we shared
had nothing to do with love.
every day we learn
how many died of violence
in any corner of the globe,
be it in wars,  by terror,  
fundamentalist fanatics,
gun-toting psychopaths and haters,
or all of the above

the figures seem to grow
the daily death toll makes us callous
what earlier was horror
has turned into ****** routine

so much so that
when there’s a day we do NOT hear
about some grisly ******
we feel like we have got a bargain!
One deep breath pushes the anxiety down my throat,
just enough to stop my hands from shaking.

my fingers fumble with buttons,
false comfort lost with each layer.

I'm naked and exposed,
eyes flickering across my body,
contradictions piling up,
making self recognition and impossible task.

A broken binary lies scattered at my feet
like the clothes I've come to dread
and the skin I wish to shed.
Gender is hard, hope to improve upon this soon.
Oh what a letdown,
as excited electrons
fall to ground.
The pitter patter of rain echos through the soil,
sending a message in morse code.

Biological clocks begin to turn as fungi wake from their slumber.
Hyphae radiate outward, mapping the skin of the earth,
a living neural network woven into the soil of the forest.
Next page