Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
jo forstrom May 2018
vigilantes, marauders, of the night skies
relentless in their search for all that is out there inside the blankets of night
fragments of lost stars that once were out there but became undone as they drifted off inside of the vastness and burnt out
but now are salvaged and put back in to place as the night sky remains flawless through these naked eyes of mine.
jo forstrom.
jo forstrom Jan 2018
My nightingale you are my elusive dream
for it is i that slips deep inside of a place called sleep so i can go in search of you

i know where you are or i just sort of think i do

i am inside of here now for i hear your melodic voice just over there inside that tangle of shrubs

for it is inside of there that you flee all attempts of me seeing you
but i stay here
hidden inside of all restless dreams awaiting you

but i know it is in vain for you are all but invisible to these eyes of mine
that are now laden with tears of a life time given to me by the ravages of time
inside of a place called sleep.
jo forstrom Oct 2017
I sleep here beneath these autumn stars
while I await the cloak of winter to guard me against winters harshest breath

my earthly duties have come to an end
as the leaves lie there on the ground beneath branches that once held them

I now stand here without all that I once held
as daylight now turns its back on me
and the autumn night clad with all stars reaches down to enfold me.
jo forstrom Sep 2017
I am the season of the sun
but I know my time is all but over
for I see those days of autumn as they flicker off out inside the season of yet to be
I want so to linger inside the days that seem to become shorter
as the sun sets to a time I cannot seem to ever hear
as it calls out there inside the sculpted hillsides and begs for the chance to stay.
jo forstrom Jan 2017
Paper dreams shriveled up sent inside of a mystic balloon
to be forever there
far away from that elusive being
that could never believe in her dreams.
jo forstrom Mar 2015
Footprints sand blasted inside my heart

Leaving me alone and desperate to somehow escape where I am

For molten lava appears at my feet

And blistering words are flung at a me that lies down waiting to die

But it is not to be

For that parade of all silence now prances here before me

And a shrill voice announces

"It is your time."

jo forstrom Dec 2014
" "
Hate ate the ethics.

Next page