Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Feb 2012 Elena
WS Warner
Against the saturated
Horizon of dawn,
Loitering in the dark timbre
Of emerging consciousness -
Dissipating somnolence
And preemptive despair,
Tacitly adumbrate the
Yawning abyss.
Chastened by the cunning and
Lubricious nihilism,
Igniting fermented provocations,
Silent subterfuge; death,
By mirth - the inane;
Lament of the mundane.

Fallow paradigms, accretions of
The last gasp -
Evaporating empty liturgies
Of suspicion;
Charity and equanimity -
Lost in confinement,
Triumphant avarice bearing
Descendants
Of intransigence;
Wielding imperious
Schemes of orthodoxy.

Pollard fragments of
Silken tapestry,
Miasma draped depression
Abridging;
Conversely,
Permuted flurries of anxiety
Dislodge
The vestiges of meaning
That abide
In brazen equivocation.

Tributaries of dogma reach
Their confluence,
Watershed moment,  
Numinous effusion
Streams naked epiphany,
The precarious vision -
A gesture of providence,
Certainty and contingency;
Gratuitously derivative, life
Equals choice.

Verdant branches of intention;
And opportunity the vine,
Live forward -
The pen, my voice,
Piquant conduit pouring,
Exuberant wine.

Footprints found in givenness
Underline,
Penumbrae of my soul;
Mirrored silhouettes,
Thoughts and words engender;
And in verse adorn
Fecund soil, Line after line,
The cosmos altered,
Continuum of permanence -
Artist’s art articulating
Essence of my imagination,
I proliferate, I design
Phrases unique,
Participation mystique.

Words creating world,
The apparatus of infinity
Heidegger, ontologically precise,
Language -
The house of Being,
Ineffable, Promethean
Literary devise -
Envisioning possibility,
And abundance to allow,
I occur
Inhabit
Manifest
Future phenomena
Experienced as now.

©2008 & ©2011 W.S. Warner
 Feb 2012 Elena
Samuel
It's late and I'm tired
But I can't go to sleep

There's too much to do
Too much I haven't told you
Too much I want to hear
Too much to listen to
Too little to waste

There are adventures
not yet experienced
There are voices
unheard
There are thoughts
unvoiced
There are songs
unwritten
There are kisses
unfelt

And I have adventures to experience
And I have voices to hear
And I have thoughts to voice
And I have songs to write
And I have kisses to feel

And I have you.

Oh, you.

Who are you?
I certainly haven't found you yet
Actually, I thought I had, but you went away
Now I fear I will never see you again

Oh, you.

You with your saddened eyes
You who have endured so much
You who deserve so much more
You who I try to help but
You who shy away to
You who are gone.
gone.

gone.

It does not make my thoughts any clearer
It does not make me feel any better
It does not make my eyes any drier
to write.

But it does help the sunshine keep a little longer
It does let your kisses linger in the shade
It does help my weary head resurrect
The light from whence we came

And I know that someday you will return
And I won't let you slip down down again
And my time awake is time well spent
So I cannot sleep.

I cannot sleep.
Sam Dickinson 2010
 Feb 2012 Elena
Lealend Elisabeth
I rattled the birdcage,
the empty thing sounding, the ripples filling the air;

I was taken by it's sensitivity,
the echo and lingering of my touch.

My body drifted it seemed,
into lands untouched,
the untamed oxygen filling my lungs.

I was home.

New bones leaped out of my skin
and I was fast and unfeeling in my feet;

I carried the lungs of a lion-
To breathe in all my eyes took in;
and my strands were the blades that caressed the soil underneath my hooves.



I lived for moments long and vivid,
and took them with me the second I woke.

Now I live forever in lands I call my home.
 Feb 2012 Elena
Nizar Qabbani
In the summer
I stretch out on the shore
And think of you
Had I told the sea
What I felt for you,
It would have left its shores,
Its shells,
Its fish,
And followed me
 Feb 2012 Elena
K Balachandran
between the haunting strains of music,
there are profound silences.
i'll wait for you there,
together, let's explore life's music.
Next page