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PrttyBrd Feb 2015
In the darkness of night, or by the light of day
Waiting for hours with nothing to say
When wonder turns worry and knowledge to doubt
The truth becomes lies and silence to shout
The louder the cry the more muffled the plea
Lost miles away from where we should be
Open and honest and ugly and raw
Without wasting time with the hem and the haw
Memories fight oversights hidden by masks
Begging a thought is a torturous task
Still waiting for a hint or a clue or a sign
That the strength of a heart beats the power of mind
2215
Pyrrha  Nov 2021
Sapphic Poem
Pyrrha Nov 2021
How could I spell out love when it is absent of her name?
The way her eyes reflected a sunrise, the envy of Eos
She was like honey in the sky, the amber of her energy enraptured me
      I was bewitched

She was a masterpiece drawn with starlight, unfathomable beauty
An ivory sculpture crafted by the hands of a god, masterpiece of Hephaestus
I remember the time I was blessed by that smile,
     A vilified promise

The scent of patchouli and the taste of my favorite tea
Like ambrosia for a mortal, that sweet taste of paradise
Sunflowers and the many other favorites that she gave me
     Stolen without a word

She used to call me late at night to talk about her day
But the days for me got longer, I couldn't keep her entertained
Such a coldness hid underneath the warmth I thought she gave me
     Gone like a ghost in the night

I thought I was breathless because I loved her, now I’m suffocated by the agony
She was killing me underneath the sweetness, constricting like a boa
And when I close my eyes to see the memories lapse she's still in them
     Haunting me like she wanted

Eros' is golden arrows struck me hard and shamelessly
Through my heart and left a scar, chasmic and wide
Her toxic serotonin left me high, addicted to her energy
     A limitless euphoria

I spoke to the gods above and I told them of my love
What a liar she's made me out to be, the clever snake
I begged that Aphrodite let my words reach her
     But they fell on deaf ears

Now I pray that Anteros relieves me and hears my plea
Unravel these feelings in my heart, lift the anchor of her name
Don't let me be the sole carrier of the blame
     For the ruin that remains
Someone I was rather close to and lowkey in love with ghosted me out of nowhere, I wrote this about it. We are both magic practitioners so there are lots of references to it.
Hope  Aug 2012
Black Hole
Hope Aug 2012
To soak up the dirt is to soak up the stories.
My story is grime pushed into the cracks in the concrete
From all the crusty hobos and sweat-sheened showgirls.
My story is glitter from all the strippers and their grinning patrons, and
*****, spilled liquor, and ***** from those who have sought a cure.
I am nourished by pain, and also rubber from the wheels of souped-up sports cars
Driven by men with chasmic souls. The oil from a billion french fries
Palliates the sting of alcohol upon my fractured, ***** skin.
The filth of the cigarettes and of the **** smoke,
Dank in the air, and heavy, slathers on another coat.
I see all things and I hear all things and I know all things.

I can see up your skirt right now, you precious little object,
As you flee the casino like a gull from a shark’s open jaws.
Your nightmare is right behind you, and he’s starving.
His humanity has been chewed up by the worms of his rancor,
And all that remains is an animal with hot blood on his brain.
In the alleyway I hear the pop and crack as stiletto gives way to concrete
And bone gives way to undue stress. His smile is unhinged as
Stifled screams and muffled gunshot atomize in the black air.

A decade later, the mops of sad janitors cut through like razors,
Making clean spots more unsightly than the ocean of grunge.
Surreptitious blood spatters, long since scrubbed
Still glint under blacklight.  The chalk outlines have absorbed
Into my unholy black skin, and though I was drunk on your blood,
I still remember cradling you as you died.
catherine Jul 2017
This cradle of sweet remembrance
is ours to recollect
under a myriad of unknown stars.
Your hazel eyes bore golden flecks,
your cheeks blushed crimson
above the scars.
Every bit of flesh in your body
speaks of our nostalgic yesteryear,
it mirrors the chasmic depths
of a love beyond celestial spheres.
Tylor Oct 2021
My insides are freezing, every ounce of passion I have is boiling down to nothing
Echoes of chasmic silence have me surrounded
I am overwhelmed by this sudden surge of intense self-loathing
By the strong rusty winds, my existence seems grounded

I am turning cold and fragile every second, and all I long for is a wake-up call
A call harsh enough to burn my freezing insides
I am sick of the urge that wants me to hit my head against the wall
Cause now I am well aware of how in my head, the demonic hurting creature hides

I breathe in fear, it rushes through my blood so I could feel it in my bones and veins
Anxiety is like my shadow that lingers with me everywhere I go, I feel burdened
Feels like I am getting drenched alone in the nagging emptiness,
the whole of me drains
Even in the happiest of moments, everywhere it just pains
Thursday, January 2nd, 2020 &
Friday, January 3rd, 2020

The Resplendent Sol shineth forth for each one of us. We are all one, even whence divided. In truth, there is no schism betwixt us.

       I awoke this morning assured of the Cosmo-Plexus' Empyreal Love, The Ransom of the Lovebound, and Provenance of Life by the Holy Dove. I am sure that his auspices remain even now. Even in the din of disquietude, in the Soulborne War of Stillness, his aegis dost remain.

I am roused from my slumber by foreordinance. The maelstrom of lament only stirs the Leadings of Lovelight within. I must simply listen to the glistening waft to illumine my shadow'd microcosm.

From what Starlit Aethers shall my Niveous Dove alight? From thence shall heartsease unfurl! I know not when the Light of Life shall shine his visage upon me; yet and still, I must trust in the sweetness of hope. Her honesty inspires faith & amour.

Somewhere over the Rainbow, there exist no needs for unrequited dreams. Why? The fantast fathoms imagination an extension of reality, a synergy, a duality, a plurality. Yet, even the phantasy desires realization.

The Rainbow is an insignia of the Noachian Covenant. The prism is a kaleidoscopic thread, one woven across the firmaments by a Grand Creator. It is a dream realized, by the Divine, of the Divine, and from the Divine.

       How can I find stability, how can I summon strength without the Light of the Lovebound within? Our moor in a sea of sanctity, is he, Christ.

Sometimes I feel chasmic & abyssal, as though my heart were a rapacious sea. I know not from whence this emptiness has arisen, nor from whence it can be sundered. Yet and still, I carry on, sometimes consumed by the seductive embrace pulsing betwixt my ribs. Will the charm of despondency unfurl its pall over me forevermore?

At this moment, pristine synchronicity aligns my heart & mind, thereby affixing my entity upon cloud-nine. I am genuinely enough; I am genuinely substantive, for, at this moment, reason & rhyme intertwine upon the wavelength of the sublime. Therefore, I choose happiness not because it comes easily, but because it is the only real & authentic way to live.

----------------------------------------------------------­------------------------------------------------------------The Life-Bearing Dictum:----------------------------

(Added for the
Promulgation of Inspiration
On
March 11th, 2020)

----------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------

(I) "Creativity is the residue of time wasted."

-Einstein

(II) "Darkness is the birth of a new dawn. It should be celebrated, not feared.

-Aladdin Zackaria

(III) "For look! I am creating new heavens
and a new earth;
And the former things will not be called to mind,
Nor will they come up into the heart"

-Isaiah 65:17 (New World Translation Study Edition)

(IV) "For you the sun will no longer be a light by day,
Nor will the shining of the moon give you light,
For Jehovah will become to you an eternal light,
And your God will be your beauty.
No more will your sun set,
Nor will your moon wane,
For Jehovah will become for you an eternal light,
And the days of your mourning will have ended."

-Isaiah 60: 19, 20 (New World Translation Study Edition)

---------------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------------------------------------­----------------------------------------------------
Words uttered
Reverberate on a sonority
Now distinctly tinged
By the sanguine ripples of
Malice & betrayal.

A soul bound
Has been unfettered;
Yet, pain lingers in the anomaly
Once inhabited  
By a paradoxical wholeness.

Perhaps suffering is life,
Maybe life is suffering,
But what is life,
Without art
(?)

The Magnum Opera of the World
Were forged in an
Empyrean blaze of spontaneity;
Penultimate Vision;
Mastery of emotions; Mind-over-matter.

(The Legacy Carries)
Ever onward; therefore,
Breathe,
The Light is near,
Oblivion of Shadow.




Excelsior Forevermore,



Ω



Sanders Maurice Foulke III
from the ground, the earth seems so far around,
climb a few rickety stairs,
you see, distance just gets shorter,
seems like the distance between us,
the chasmic, drastic drop in pressure,
floating in the air separates two mountains,
remove the pretenses,
smash the awkward in the gallbladder,
there is nothing removing one from all,
realize now, we're all so tall.
this place is just a stage,
a stance to find your feet and grab your heart,
everything we've ever done is a masterpiece,
and on this thin needle we can see miles,
but not the reason for our smiles,
empathy is wasted on those,
when you can't read your self,
so take this heart of mine,
and hold yourself tight,
because this is about to get tremulous.
Pyrrha Jan 2019
I have gold coursing through my veins and silver flooding in my lungs that turn into richened glitter with every exhale
My mind is a garden with exotic fauna to leave all who enter in awe
My words are like the sharpest blades that pierce into a battlefeild of whirling lies
My heart is a chasmic void to trap you in my sweetest lullaby
For my poetry is the wing of a butterfly and a drop of poison all in one

— The End —