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Mar 2014 · 482
Miryam L Mar 2014
I've been thinking probably way too much
as is the rhythm of my mind
about rocks, pebbles, sand and such
and where my loyalties lie

what boon work this world of faceless cogs
demands of my willow tree
is warping what sense of beauty there was
and fulfilment in creating these

colours that flutter like the turbulent mixture
of life blood my pen's so obsessed with
and maybe it's due to the beat that those hues
drum through my every fibre and limb

because when you make me force me to create
these armfuls and mouthfuls of sand
the vibrant inferno it splutters and chokes
and cries to me, how can you stand?

How do you sit like the sandman in his suit
whose mind is long barren of rocks
or those women you hate while their gravel gossip grates
with sheer nothingness, their words will be lost

how do you breathe when the mark you should leave
on this earth lies somewhere buried beneath
that avalanche of assignments, oh fool don't deny them
they smothered your love of the free

somehow you bear the pain, no buzz in your veins
do you remember them glowing so bright?
like the twisted surge and flow of headlights on dark roads
you could've bled a skyline,

you know it is not lost that time...

when water is empty, it watches in glass pillars
you only thirst for those hues
and your only hunger is to feel no longer
the weight of ideas decaying unused

when every cell and molecule rippling within you
is finally full from the fruits
of heaving a sigh when that creature comes to life
only a hint of the vision inside you

until then, dear inferno, I sigh, you do not know
the agony of building these damns
of papers and alarm clocks and quotidian gutter droplets
the ebb of the life of the Man

but this searing pain is not all to no gain
for these empty books will rot away
and the platform they chose for me, bricks laid in rows for me
I will step off as light as the day

when the sun rises orange, so deep I can taste it
melting over the sand
that I sleep on and stand on and build archways of light upon
no longer fills the hollows of my hands

then inferno dear inferno, how luminous we will glow
we will be everything we are
we are not sand and pebbles, gravel and stones
we are rocks like the jagged earth's scar

but for now I must tolerate those grains as they bite and grate
and nibble what makes me who I am
and hope that these hands and their rainforest of plans
will not be eroded by this sea of sand
this poem was inspired by something i heard... apparently life is a bowl and inside there are rocks: what and who truly defines you and matters to you, then pebbles: acquaintances and hobbies you're just experimenting with, and then sand: the quotidian worries and crap that means nothing but we all trudge through. These pebbles and sand are meant to trickle between the rocks, even support them but not cover them cos then our priorities are messed up. This made me really angry because sometimes this choice is taken out of your hands and you feel constantly forced to focus on the sand just to get anywhere in life and you wake up one morning empty of any creativity and go mad and write a poem. Irish education system... fun times...
Feb 2014 · 505
Autumn Leaves
Miryam L Feb 2014
just give it to the beggar boy
you found along the woodland path,
can't you afford this price to pay
for just one fleeting shadow laugh?
finding breadcrumbs scattered between
the roots of trees so deep, so dark.
The Ether where his secrets teem
blind worms spared from broken hearts

autumn leaves, so generous
they just keep giving
golden fish set swimming
through the air

trees' warm blood sacrificed
like droplets from the living
twig finger veins dripping
by winter beware.

daisy chains knotted with denial
through summer I wove
with sky speckled feathers shed
from free wings to teach my cloak
But the beggar boy he shivered with the Nordic winds
so I gave him mine
Now the aching leaves and I both freeze
because my body's weaker than my pride

autumn leaves, so generous
they just keep giving
golden fish set swimming
through the air

trees' warm blood sacrificed
like droplets from the living
twig finger veins dripping
by winter beware.

stop coming round here, beggar boy
I've nothing left but my own mind
it was what you always wanted most
so just let the path wind

stop coming round here beggar boy
I've nothing left but my own heart
Written all over with his summer days
I hope these words aren't so sharp.

Beggar boy, too broken to plead.
I won't go as the autumn leaves.

Beggar boy, his broken dreams.
I won't go as the autumn leaves.
Oct 2013 · 752
Sepia Summer
Miryam L Oct 2013
Sepia sunlight in my mind
tints the photographs I wind
into a peachy, golden hue
like Roman mornings dancing through
that day ornate, smiling archways
as our lazy banter ricocheted
words much stronger off our tongues
as seaside air filled dusty lungs

Full of bonfire smoke that surged in between
those ripples we spoke and what I deeply mean

that sepia tint it remembers you the best
so classic so original, hide those hues in your chest

Summer glow, I watched it go
But it was too beautiful to capture
Autumn leaves, and so will we
This moment is what really matters

please know I mean it
when I say
You made this
my best day.
Sep 2013 · 1.4k
Black and White
Miryam L Sep 2013
Opening scene: a girl and a guy we see
begin to converse, apple bobbing for words.

Time ebbs along just like a new song
tingling your skin with that guitar riff.

And she can't describe the world in his earnest eyes
he'll catch every golden wisp of a word fallen from her lips.

I see her laugh from the soul like I have
with you too many times to remember the trigger lines.

our story so similar to Him and Hers
so perfectly crafted, no acting required
but that idealistic movie proves to be
nothing but pictures in motion, no I love you spoken

Our fairytale
is doomed to fail
in technicolor life.
You and I
can only reside in
cinematic black and white

He thinks of her face in every wandering place
sits beneath an oak tree writing lyrics she'll never see.

She still can't forget when their curious eyes met
and serendipity will cause them to meet again.

They'll gaze at the stars and talk of how far
they feel from the earth cos what they've found is worth

more than gold dust
it could have been us
why must reality
eat greedily my fantasy?

the beautiful tapestry
of the love that people are made for

Will come undone
just when no one
expects it like
a thief in the night

Because this rainbow is defective
the agony and malice reflected
in lashing tongue red, those
words fall blue like hailstones

But this is the fee I pay life
for the golden creases of light
when you speak your mind
weaving hues I will never find
anywhere else
with anyone else

Our fairytale
may be doomed to fail
in technicolor life

But I'll take that chance
at happiness

Because life with you is far from
Black and White.
This would have been a song but c'est la vie... I'm not a hopeless romantic... Really..
Aug 2013 · 1.7k
Car bonnet sunset
Miryam L Aug 2013
please don't move a muscle
don't mutter, don't breathe
like a photographed creature
I know you hate being confined

but I don't trust those mischievous
fingers of time and earth
as they dabble with our very beings
pocket a penny of your boundless worth

this us is not celestial
nor a flawless perfect scene
but it's chaos, it's inked lyrics on skin
and somehow there's space for you and me

between the endless open road ideas
born in this cardboard ghost town
and our opinions too fierce for them to hear
honesty never pleases the crowd

alone I know I don't belong here
but with you it's not just ok
we accept we're in no way superior
just speaking a different language

how did I find you as you are?
this ideal second set of eyes
to view this vast expanse of maps
like you cut through the undergrowth of lies

a world of black and white laid out
before us, car bonnets as the beach sun sets
and our colours bleed into the monochrome
I'm rich if this dream is all I have left
Aug 2013 · 596
Miryam L Aug 2013
If I was a blind old woman
or a sculptress caked in clay
I'd trickle my weathered fingertips
over your cheekbones like rain

Trace that scar from long ago
follow the beaten track
my eyes have wandered a million times
like a favourite paperback

If I was  a travelling artist
paintbrush aching to echo your face
on the empty strip of a canvas
your eyes too blue to leave any space

I'd paint in glorious yellow
those secret acts of kindness
your heart uncontrollably glows
that cool exterior just a pretence

Just the same stumbling tone
that falters as you masquerade
as just my friend, so well I know
that devotion you shine down on my face

If I was the woman I want to be
I'd twist these words in ink round your wrists
but I am just a helpless writer
and you are too precious to risk
Aug 2013 · 780
Miryam L Aug 2013
I built over time a mansion house
stairs anchored the inside that twisted up past
archways I knew he would walk underneath
but the perfect height for you to stroll beside me

I ignored the roar of creaking doors
bay windows that spilled sunlight on wooden floors
the footsteps that fell on them were never the same
because you weren't there, they whispered your name

I tried so hard but all that it takes
is something so cinematic you say
so explosive with that effortless smile
a look from you enough to splinter these tiles

I stand still as the sound crescendos
and ricochets off all the windows
they never held in their shiny surface
the moment we caught  that reflection of us

I come too  close to those deep blues
watch as the tidal wave rises like two
hundred horsemen storming the castle
these walls I built don't stand a chance in a battle

cos he doesn't know that I laid down
those foundations to somehow crush right on out
this longing I have, this song in my head
that some day you might just love me back instead

— The End —