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polarisspark Jun 2018
He is there
Mingled with both colors and shadows
Melting with wondrous affection
The interval between reach and grasp is where all
His serenity dissolved as thistles of devilish
Born like that , with that passion's sins in his eyes
That was his beauty.
polarisspark Jun 2018
Vague,strange and confusing.
You are the unparalleled  spirit of
The unborn crystal child.

Mesmeric as the soft drizzle of
Rain against the lilies,you are the coffee
Stain on pages of poetry.

A hot lacerating choking sensation
That completely engulfed your heart
As a lump of sobs you refused to loose.
In a paradise filled with nothing but  
Unrecoverable things.

It was astounding how you still look up
For the divine rebirth of the redolent blurred  fake memories.
With all these pack of desperation to find something
Made you smile , something claimed your rapaging soul.

When the sunset put his hat on with a half dozen stars were kissing the sky you soothed by the jingles of heaven's grief alluring lullaby.
Echoes of lyre's melodies brought the insomnia's starry vision of
Your elusory dream , those who barely wish for a drip of sweet hope back to sleep .
Receiving the thunderous quietness that shattered your tranquility.

"WAKE UP !" said the universe

It was there again...
Yes, a greedy hunger for the unknown pumping into your veins
Hither and thither had a sinlessness white,ravishing beauty and
unbearable lightness.

Unfortunately, for you it was just a suffocating shade of stagnation.
It was just you there as a reflection on the adornment unholy mirror.
You felt that one irresistible desire to observe a sad musing gaze filled the sharp abyss in your eyes.

Something calling you!

What incarcerated there was just a pure perfection
craved the vitality disturbance and the chaotic imperfection.
A glimpse of storm waited for its rage long enough with a fire's fading spark
Fighted to find anything burned for it.
But,Nothing was burning around , nothing just the nothingness.

A terrifying chill run through those unawakened emotions like a screaming
siren dragged those sloths feet into the hiding game .wondering if there
was any passing miracle could hold you before you catch up by the nonentity
As a comforting usurpation hard to capture , a missing destiny wandered out of
Your uncompleted written dairy. Eagerness swallow all of your sanity.

"when the restlessness keeps you yearning like a victim to thinking
While the lilac sky shed its tears watering all these pale tiny cherry
Flowers standing along the hill of immortality , there you will find an entity,
Who inflamed by obsession , the desire for addiction emitted as an
Anesthetic fragrant aching your lungs with uncontrolable breathing
Dive in the lovely warmth , just a stare will made you succumb and tumple down with
shivering knees . Now you could say
"good bye" to safe and souund

This is the den of passion.....

Let it tampr the fear inside your mind, playing with your
Sleepy creativity.
You had possessed ,he put a fever inside of you ,tearing up thought's monotony ,drown you with wave of curiousty till you feel these silkin butterflies
Fluttering in your chest .Bones ache , crazy heart's beats with huge
Smile dancing on your mouth , don't resist it ,welcome that unique
Pother ,racous and loudly deafening your surrounding.
Let him devours the angelic purity sulling you with sin's thrill
Enchanted by love's delirium.
Be a passion's lover
polarisspark Jun 2018
Sweet ocean ! Oh , my sweet rocky shore .
what a residues !
longing embers, soundless weeps and journeys ends .

Sleep now and dream ,
Your stranded breathes give birth to spring
Lonely for the ocean .
Oh, you lovely sleepy head , soon you will see
The sea buckled with calling ships.
Soft strokes of night breeze brush shall paint
Canvas of this dripping ache into light-filled
Cracks on bleeding darkness , keys for
Long time forgotten doors and sinful daring wind
Weaving your hair between its dancing waves.

You sweet ocean ! Oh, my sweet lonely shore.
What a residues!
Tortured dreams, feeble hopes and fleeting stars.

Sleep now and dream,
Skies melded through every tenacious scars as
Enthralling map of new-found stars.
Oh, you dear weary head, soon you will see
Cosmic sprinkling magic in your too long waited
Gazes, tickling those rusty pale cheeks setting
Them into heart warming giggles.

Lay down and let those sand soaked happy toes
Just to give up....
Scared waves trading their blessing to win
Your still lung for a sigh of relief
And your dawn flavored lips for a mumbles of our old oaths,
This is our home ship.
  Sep 2017 polarisspark
for a while, I was dissatisfied
with the way the clouds shifted to cover
the minimal shine of the sun
to hide my brighter days
in a captured realm of warmth
and simultaneous rapture of frozen temptations


but now that a new sun has
arrived in my circle of planets and stars,
a galaxy surrounded in a smile
wrapped up and presented in a beautiful
bow made of velvet and adorned in loving


the sunflowers in my mind finally had a place to call
home and a place to find comfort in
as they searched for the love and happiness
that took an eternity to find
and only a moment to hold onto
for  my  own.
wanting happiness and needing to write is a contradiction because a poet can never truly be happy
  Oct 2016 polarisspark
my mother always said
"don't fall in love with a poet"
they pretend to love you
but what they really love
is writing about loving you
you are mere words to them
feelings cheapened by a page,
dusty grey typewriters,
and many unfinished drafts
of lovers both old and new,
you are the question mark,
but not the answer,
they are searching for ?
person unidentified: mystery
the page wanderer,
each poem a missing
person poster to cover their
bedroom walls.
they cannot love something
that is in their head
poets are the loneliest of
all people, my mother said.
they write to immortalize
what has long passed.
to live within their words,
but not reality,
lost souls writing suicide notes
and proclaiming it art.
© copyright

NOTE: i've noticed people sharing this to other sites without having spoken to me about it beforehand, I do not give permission for this and all poems are copyright, keep this in mind.

my mother never actually said this to me, but i figure i'll probably end up saying it one day if i have children.

it's pessimistic yes, but i know there are exceptions. please don't take to heart. it's more a criticism of myself than all poets. :)

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