Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Loving someone
Is work.
I take the thought into my hands
And run it through my skin.
Until the words fall out
And mold
Like clay
Into dissertations of sound,
Into solemn hymns
A soft prayer.
I will repeat all night and morning
Rituals of romance
Rituals of present tense
Rituals of
I am not afraid of the craft
I was born already loving it
Cities Dot The World Below Me,
Their Lights Reflecting Off Translucent Smog,
The Trees Wave To Me In My Flight,
As Mountains And Canyons Bellow From My Sound,
I Am In The Middle Of The Sky,
Just A Couple Thousand Feet Away From The Stars,
If Only These Wings Could Take Me A Bit Higher,
Then That--Would Be Flight,
Miles Pass By In Seconds Below My Lifted Body,
As My Eyes Hold Millions Of People Imbetween Weary Glances,
Pressurized Air Fills My Earthenware Like Lungs,
As My Ears Pop With Unsatisfying Pain,
Is This How Airborn Embers Feel?
And As I Fade Into The Impending Night,
My Reflection Disappears In The Atmosphere's Haze,
Graceful As The Clouds Underneath Me
This Was Just A Quick Poem I Wrote 30,000 Feet Above The Ground
A start
with no end.
A promise
with no truth.
The end
is certain.
It always comes
around.
Spiraling
Sinking
It seems all I do is fall
The ground is so shaky
Can't keep my balance
Pulling apart my heart
It's split in two ways
Walk away from the pain
Thinking that would keep me sane
But it just gets deeper
Spreading like infection
Doing everything that I can do
To stop from feeling
Yeah I'm falling a little harder than before
I can only break so many times
Before I'm unfixable
There's a split in the road
Don't know which way to go
So I've been sitting here drawing straws
But each straw is the same
Here is a glass of water from my well.
It tastes of rock and root and earth and rain;
It is the best I have, my only spell,
And it is cold, and better than champagne.
Perhaps someone will pass this house one day
To drink, and be restored, and go his way,
Someone in dark confusion as I was
When I drank down cold water in a glass,
Drank a transparent health to keep me sane,
After the bitter mood had gone again.
I run towards
unmoving iron sky and
Grey steel waves
Feet hammering cold, hard sand
Like nails, each footstep
is placed with precision
Hammers and nails don't change the flat sand
It was built and compressed
by the weight of a thousand waves
Too cold for bare feet
but I can't feel the cold because I am almost flying
almost but not quite
like a bird that can't be brave
I just wanted to find the emptiness
Sky
Sea
Sand
my eyes capture it,
more effectively than any camera
When I close them the picture I took of the sea
is engraved delicately on my eyelids
my lips taste the iridescent salt spray on the breeze
My heart is grey not yellow or blue
It belongs to the ocean
Where I can feel as deep as I need
and want as much as I want to
I look back to see if you are following
But you are trapped within a cage of humanity
Set yourself free
Why can't you just run after me?
I know where I am going
I show you the pictures on my eyelids
and put them in frames for you
But you don't even care
About chasing the horizon,
about where I have been
So I run faster
My bare feet are more effective
than your shoes
 Mar 2013 Mandy Owensby
Dan Gray
I feel as if I stand atop a sharp pinnacle;
Tall, dark, ragged, foreboding.
In all directions, save one;
Misery, loneliness, pain, darkness.
In that one direction, hope;
Bright, flowering, happy, blessed.
The callous winds of change start to blow.
With the keening screams of the Bean Sidhe.
Causing one’s soul to quiver and cry in its harmony.
I try my best to keep my balance,
But find I must also fight gusts of wind
Blowing out from my hope.
Coldly trying to push me over the edge,
Instead of warmly embracing me to safety.
I am trapped.
I can feel no relief.
Maybe it would be best to close my eyes;
Open my arms to the winds;
And let the Bean Sidhe do what it will.

Dan Gray
2003
i would compromise
--i compromise. i appear to i mean,
with peace-demeanor customized for show
paraded there and there, obeisant nonsense
in a confidence of meek to render compliments
crowding infancies of all

for the sake of art
i bend my frame about cliche
to have a human dragon claim
"the real persists unknown"
and gather at a sacred dolmen
fascinating morals sung beneath the stars and sun--
you said there was a butterfly
tasting at my skull, shaking with uncommon music too..
its skinny, immigrant feet abuzz
within the world they called a One, wings on pause, my eyebrows in flight.

a blanket iris cries warmth
in clusters hung ripe, filming over all
a native ceremonial, falsepolitik
i pluck at them atop a fence
obscure for comforts masking truth
discarded, found, fashioned
into furniture for candled houses
built with children's sons
where families try to see
a clearing in the warping
mirrors saddled with a dripping time no illustration comprehends
. wooden beams help it rise and dim,
the sunny lie, genuinely fake,
authentic trick of aeons hidden in the true
-- growing young, stemming back
to foil brighter undiscoveries for otherwisely
patient basements full of heirlooms,
sheik dining areas all
nodding over cheap wine we still manage to squint up at nothing at
in apple layers
symbolizing tidy crimes invented ceaselessly,
serving existential voids--
grace, fall, stumble catch
acquired tones of oak or berry--
other fruits would do, or none,
as i still feel
praised by your rejections --
when indifference gains a sweetness
like a novel vengeance won
i am indulging villainy
workshopping staling norms,
garden dark as cultivated loam.
where i am words
mooding intellect to torment,
faun complexity awry
Next page