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Skaidrum  Jun 2015
Insomnia
Skaidrum Jun 2015
-



Lead dripping from
empty sockets,
a clock hissed in serpent hours,
it's venom oozing from the crystal walls

it's 4 a.m. you insomnia lunatic.

I'm too busy admiring,
how the man in the moon slithered through
these blinds on my soul-swept window.

That night I was a canvas,
as the moonlight stripped my arm raw of shale,
and tinted my skin with

silvertongue.

And when he was finished,
tiger stripes tattooed my thinning vessel.


-
When I can't sleep I leave myself
the stupidest of poetry.

© Copywrite
cait  Apr 2013
silvertongue
cait Apr 2013
spitting words like venom,
your words are like shots to the heart.

as we withdrew our weapons -
increasing pace, i want to hurt you.

snarling, the silver lining of your kiss -
did it ever matter, at all?

and now look what it's come to,
guns to each others' heads.

we know each other. our shots can't miss.
Take this. And this. And this. And this.
michael capozzi May 2014
the sun is in her smile and
the planes are constant so my
adventure to you is just an
impulse away, dear. my eyes don’t
really twitch in the sunlight, but ****
i swear you have me blind. i think
i’m becoming fond of this lifestyle we set
for ourselves, not the ones our parents told
us at the age of three years ago. time is just
racing and i don’t know whether or not
we’ll win. but i believe in god; he has my mouth
and your voice; he had my mothers brain and
my dad’s stubbornness but this
life isn’t perfect, but i want
you to know that you make it.
she's states away.
Evelyn Culwch  Jan 2016
O husband
Evelyn Culwch Jan 2016
O husband, behold the marks that mar your handsome face!
The angry red where poison left its sting,
Where my arms trembled.
Where I failed to save you,
If ever you were mine to save.

O husband, remember when your eyes first met mine!
We were so young,
When we married beneath the world tree.
When we danced among cowslips and primroses,
Like life would always be dancing.

O husband, think fondly on the first child!
Meant to be a great warrior,
Born as night broke into dawn.
Born a prince who would never be king,
By no fault of his own doing.

O husband, think too on the second son!
The magician and scholar,
Gentle in thought and action.
Gentle in word and deed,
That innocent youth.

O husband, cry for that betrayal!
The punishment passed down
By highest authority and greatest king.
By queen who shared my lineage,
Who in punishing you punished us all.

O husband, forgive my tears!
Those that drip down my face,
Landing on our dirtied robes.
Landing on your ashen skin,
As cooling as the poison is hot.

O husband, my strength grows weak!
She the always faithful,
My arms burn with the weight of two small corpses.
My arms sing with the agony of venom,
Fingers trembling where they grasp the golden bowl.

But O husband, I shall never leave!
Faith unwavering I sit by the eternal flame,
My husband the Silvertongue whose voice has long gone out.
My husband the Sky Traveler, who now lays bound to the earth,
I shall hold the bowl unto eternity.

O husband, behold the marks that mar that handsome face!
The angry red where poison left its sting,
Where it is soothed by the tears from mine own cheeks.
Where I failed to save you,
If ever you were mine to save.
jack of spades Oct 2013
How dare I living among the dead?
How dare I stand where death has tread?
How dare I take a stranger’s tomorrow?
How dare I steal joy from their sorrow?
How dare I smile in the tears?
How dare I brave through your worst fears?
How dare I want what you cannot?
How dare I take for what you fought?
How dare I run when you just crawl?
How dare I have silvertongue instead of your drawl?
How dare I own your dreams and needs?
How dare I bite your hand that feeds?
not 100% pleased with this one but oh well
Wordfreak  Aug 2016
Lost
Wordfreak Aug 2016
Someone, please help me.
I'm looking for a friend.
One I have not seen in quite some time.
He left me empty.
Perhaps you know him?
The Silvertongue?
He who was the weaver of words,
The teller of tales
And the creator of worlds?
He was so quick with his tongue.
His humanity was intact,
Yet he was not foolish.
He understood people
And cared about them.
It matters not...
The Silvertongue is gone I guess.
I wish I could bear the name of one so great.
Bah, such thoughts are foolish.
Do not wish for things that cannot be.
#Silvertongue #Lost
Al  Jun 2019
Sometimes
Al Jun 2019
Sometimes the world revolves like your favorite CD.  The sunshine beckons, great adventures await.  

Sometimes the world is slow, like a 45 on 33 - taking the long-play to the end of the day.

Sometimes you twist and shout.

Sometimes you hide and cry.

I am sometimes the rain which falls.  My middle name is silvertongue. I am the honeybee in dance. I dive like a kingfisher into the wild river.

Today I am the sun, warming the day.

Sometime I'll dance your way.
xmxrgxncy  May 2016
To Him
xmxrgxncy May 2016
I wish I could explain in a way that makes rational sense.
I've been scouring my mind for an easy way to phrase
the actions that came so cruelly to my heart last night.

Nothing is ever private. We should have known.
I wish I could have had the foresight to be more careful,
to hold myself back from being so arrogantly confident
that no one would find out until the time had come.

It isn't your fault.

It is mine.

Forbidden contact, that's what this is.
No more texts, no more messages....
nothing.

It breaks my heart in two, and I wish I could find a way
to help you feel less heartbreak than I.
This storm feels neverending.

In this past week I have felt more alive
than I thought possible.

And now your sorrow turned to rage
breaks it into a million pieces that I thought
it would never have to suffer through.
I wish privacy was so well practiced.

But not now, not today.

And so with a heavy heart, I bid you adieu,
my prince, my star, my superhuman silvertongue.

I will miss you more than I can say.

I will miss us.
xmxrgxncy  Nov 2016
"Bad" Things
xmxrgxncy Nov 2016
Dying, living,
Fading, growing,
is there even a difference?

Anger, yes.
Oh, yes.
I
can
feel the
horrors
and it is a comfort to know
that I still have
the ability
to actually
feel something,
anything...

it wafts from your writing
like red, animaic lines
that cause mania
and madness
like the roots
you speak of.

but i know anger too.

i know now what it feels like to want
nothing more than to smash
a windowpane
and watch it's pieces
embed themselves
in the eyes that hurt
you beyond compare
and even those
that didn't.

I know the unwanting,
the unfeeling,
the uncaring.

And I feel it.

Because I am no longer a fellow silvertongue, oh no.
I am but
a simple
machine.
funny how a single poem written by an old acquaintance can make you remember. Nice to have you back, Mike.
Crow  Oct 2019
bewitching
Crow Oct 2019
Faerie;
With your golden eyes,
your sharp-toothed smile,
the words you spin in gossamer,
in starlight,
in orb-weaver silk.

You compose
a symphony in mycelium:
Each tree an instrument,
each interwoven root
a note in harmony.

Silvertongue, sundew,
you have set a snare with green willow,
a net of blackberry thorns,
baited it with honey.
All around, the evergreen pines,
the winter roses bloom.
A sweet end,
arranged in perfect circles
for you and I alone.

I step, happily, toward your waiting arms—
for with your clever, clever fingers,
oh,
sunflower,
you have
stolen
me
away.
steal me.

— The End —