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J J Aug 26
Autumn,with the force of rapid thunder
Dawns the sky, clawing the lake asunder
  Beneath our steps
As we leapt
  To,fro,and to again;

Here we burn, trapped to our limboid sojourn
Gasping for air as the Daemon sits without a care
Tracing and chasing the ends of his thinning thread
Connecting to our voodoo dolls, laments of our death
In silent whispers only existant at all by the dents
Where our mouths should be.

This dreaded haunting, this memory looped
With crimson nails the Daemon draws hoops
Pliable as a smoke ring from laughing lips,
The Daemon strings us by his fingertips—
Reminds us we alone created hell on earth—
You can taste it in the kicked up dust,
The unlexical powder that remarks our birth
In this stale heat, our skin starts to crust.

I called you my best yet, you said I was a settlement in a lost bet,
I called you a ***** and wished I drownt you in the wishing well
Where you'd only have other mute spirits left to tell; I set

Out on a ****** scheme that night--
To slit your throat as you awoke and watch you fight
Without a chance.
I watched you in your contorted dance and felt you lift,
Shiver and go stiff
Dying in my arms. But as I sighed I felt invisible red eyes
Settle on us from the willows
Behind the blindness window.

I heard a needle scrape, a scornful moan and a bat's descry.
I knew then I truly was the pawn in a wicked game
Who's evil was signatured in our name.

The devil netted your soul dear, and already had mine.
And as I sat straddled over your limpid frame, frozen in time
And feeling his nails, like worn toolbox screws, along my spine
I oddly thought pleasantly of better times:

Of our first meeting on that autumnal day, when caught in the breeze
And kissing discreetly
Amongst the trees
and along the lake we simontaniously compared to the mythical  Lethe.

I loved you then, oh how I did,
And in return, we'll love forever—
Us, the looping dead.
It felt like a drainpipe down the gullet of the actress
As she leapt out of sight of the red baroness
Asking, why do the streetlights stay blue?
And will the soil maintain its hue?

Faceless people eating capriciously
As they tenderly speak of their shore leave
As they’re foisting their dreams to their sleeves
Speaking of odd, foreign fleece

Decadent manners spoke in secret tongues
Polarized banners through brazen tar lungs
As bravado finds a new face
To win wars with one holy gaze

Something’s the matter but it’s all for nought
As the gilded Centurion claims he forgot
What he built his first child’s house upon
For all his sons are vagabonds

I mimicked a child in the way he embraced
His nascent complacence to the human race
Clinging to a wooden rail
For fear of the careless hail

A man claimed his newsboy hat kept him enclosed
For his fear that his thought-dreams would serve to corrode
The last bastions of society
Which he clings on to haplessly

The visor hung low on the Titan of Rhodes
For he knew of the judgment on one head exposed
In his position above
Where the sky belongs only to doves

Calendars festoon their tactless grace
With legions of chandeliers, forming a haze
Now, we know that the days are numbered
Yet, the fact leaves us all encumbered

Facsimiles of the nationwide veins
Will collapse next year as they fight for the grain
Now, the horse is extinct with the train
And everyone fears to remain
C H A T A N T May 20
There is something so calming
About the spiders spinning web.
Something so comforting,
A song sung by the dead.
Hear it wallow in the distance
Like an unforgiven tune.
Sung by the rivers daughter,
The beauteous sunset muse.

Bask in the moonlit waters
Barely but blessed by shining sun.
Hold to your heavn'ly quarters,
The likes of which shall come undone.
For if you catch the spider spindle
You are likely to be safe.
In other wares, their finer fares
In absence, stay awake.

I speak not for the Titan,
Or God nor Goddess alike.
I speak not for the tongue
Of the mumbling friars might.
For Alas my hearers hear this plea,
Beware the nymph of sophistry
***** Miss Whint took a flight on a Saturday night
***** Miss Whint showed the world her insides
If science can’t show her a number
She’ll take despair to a mystical side
And the world will be her child

If you can find a path to the sea
I’ll call you a human being
If that’s worth believing
Faces articulate so cantankerously
And lose any intention for their mind

While we grow, yet still coagulate
Perhaps we’ll see, her cruelty’s bound to time
And we’ll be fine
In her broken home is where she dominates
And hates her own cherry tree
Who screamed immensely

***** Miss Whint, she took a flight
***** Miss Whint was despair at first sight
She lost emotionality
When she confided in reality

***** Miss Whint has the look of a saccharin knife
***** Miss Whint made it hard to live a life
When we’re all strangers to the sun
The working man’s light is the muzzle flash of a gun
But we’re just having fun

She sweeps the open road with love
And a diamond compartment
Twisting the road-bent
Indignant children are the fodder of her highway
That leads to a city in the wane

While she eats the air and lives another day
Deep lines accentuate her mighty wake
And that’s okay
The fools are left to smiles and opulence
She makes them find sense in their own pretence
Preaching, “there’s no end”

***** Miss Whint, she took a flight
***** Miss Whint was despair at first sight
You lost emotionality
When you confided in reality

If her mouth was wider when she began
Maybe we could have had some fun
But how could she care for what happened minutes ago?
There is an open vent to useless things to sow
If her eyes were brighter when we lost our lives
Maybe we could be satisfied
But typewriters stay their hand to the climate’s cold command
And we’re left to indulge in what still stands

So, as I wrote this like a letter
To a lady of vicious weather
Someone then caught me and said,
“Swallow those words or I’ll have your head”
So I said,
“This note has no point, so go count your coins”

***** Miss Whint has the look of the fourth of July
***** Miss Whint took a ruler to the human life
When we’re all frightened by the sun
The working man’s light is the masquerade of a gun
But we’d all rather run
I am falling for you every time
Whenever I look in your eyes.
The moment I hear your voice
My heart get raptured with highs.

Looking at your those dreamy eyes
My whole world stops for a while.
Is that only your voice sway me
No, you also got me with your smile.

Your look is like a piercing sword
Its entered straing into my heart.
Your music touch deep on my soul
Set fire on my mind and every part.

your songs are like a sweet liqour
My hungry heart never get full.
Tasting your music my heart always
screams one more as its dwell.

You bring back all dead word alive
With your song, whithout it shrink.
My heart already getting week
I can't bear no more of your wink.

Your music which bring the spring
For the eternity as my heart sings.
I inhale your song in every breath
It grab all my heart strings.
This Poem is dedicated to CNBLUE Jung Yong Hwa.

Format : Ballad
anonturtles Jun 25
My saccharine youth will hurt one day
bring forth cold tears that burn
my cheeks now lost in spots and lines
my heart aged with concern.

So delicate is this perfect time
afraid to see it go
I hold my breath as present turns
now past - a flake of snow.

My sunny days of youth melt fast
what if I can’t look back
Infected with nostalgia’s curse
I’m poisoned with the past.

And even if I dare to look
it will be through some lense
so warped and cracked, redacted past
an act of self defence.

The water b’neath me brings me close
this chapter’s near its time
I’ll slowly breathe and carefully watch
the life I love pass by.
ballad meter
Now listen well and hear this tale
Of a sixteen year old lad
Who with his wit and flying skill
Made two great countries glad

The chasm was eight hundred feet
Across Niagara Falls
The travelers could not get across
The steep and spray soaked walls

“We need a bridge”, cried engineers
A modern thoroughfare
But how to reach the other side?
We cannot build on air

A rocket or an arrow? No.
But what about a kite?
Let’s have a contest for the youth
We’d have a start, though slight

The people came with kites prepared
For fame and a reward
And Homan Walsh was very first
To span the gorge with cord

A string, then ropes, then cables spanned
And soon the bridge was done
The mighty falls could now be crossed
With string it was begun

And every great accomplishment
Began with something small
Remember Homan and his kite
That bridged Niagara Falls
This is prosperity poem 28. You can see this poem on a background at http://prosperitypoems.com/delivery28TheBalladOfHomanWalsh.html
Madhumita Apr 3
Two lovers lost from each other
fell into deep despair;
parted after a brief embrace
after morning prayer.

They could not come together, yet  
were never far away.
Sundry errands kept them busy
with duties of the day.

Twice, they stole away to unite,
their compulsion was such.
Their agitated longing grew
with every glancing touch.

Evening brought with it a reprieve
from their despondent plight.
They rested peacefully at last,
entwined all through the night.
Na/GloPoWriMo Day #3
Poetry form: Common metre
Mr Quiet Mar 17
Well I think I've had enough,
We're at the bottom now,
Life hit us hard so I guess that's pretty tough.

Lost in our words,
Wasted our times,
We thought it was love,
Now we're having fights.
Guess our love was like fireflies,
Shines so bright but it quickly dies.

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

He said he'll love me for eternity,
Said his love for me was bigger than the galaxies.
He gave me hope and he gave reasons to stay alive,
Now looking at his face makes me want to die.
Such a shame I got choked up in his lies,
How I wish I could go and travel back to the time,
When we first met,
And tell myself that he isn't worth it.

Caught myself opening up to him,
Now he knows that I cut my wrists,
Yet he still leaves me,
Yeah he's such a ****.

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

Something's not adding up,
I thought we'd always have our luck,
I thought me loving you was enough,
I thought the world would let us live if we didn't give up.
Now I regret loving you if that's alright,
You said you love me to the moon,
Now that's a lie,
Said it's impossible to hate me,
Now that's a lie,
Said I'm the only reason you're alive,
But now you're still alive.

I hate this pain that I have in my brain,
I gave you everything I have without any shame,
Then one problem came and then you blocked my name.

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

The Ballad of Jules and Denver
A Failed Star-Crossed Lover
sometimes the universe just won't allow two people to just love each other
Ronnie Mar 24
Over Silesian mountains
Somewhere beyond black seas
There is a forgotten dream
Conjuring visions of peace

Go your own way, go now, go
You are meant to lead, not follow
Walk on, fly by, sail ashore
To the land that you adore
Go your own way, go now, go
You are meant to lead, not follow
Walk on, fly by, sail ashore
Go your own way, go now, go

Many lives faced the dream
More of them fade to black
But in the eyes of the eagle
There is no turning back

Go your own way, go now, go
You are meant to lead, not follow
Walk on, fly by, sail ashore
To the land that you adore
Go your own way, go now, go
You are meant to lead, not follow
Walk on, fly by, sail ashore
Go your own way, go now, go

Their hearts are worn on sleeves
Determination so earnest
Merely calm before the storm
Quiet before the Tempest

Go your own way, go now, go
You are meant to lead, not follow
Walk on, fly by, sail ashore
To the land that you adore
Go your own way, go now, go
You are meant to lead, not follow
Walk on, fly by, sail ashore
Go your own way, go now, go
Inside the city walls
The static is meant to frighten
Those who await the call
In the echoes of the siren

Go your own way, go now, go
You are meant to lead, not follow
Walk on, fly by, sail ashore
To the land that you adore
Go your own way, go now, go
You are meant to lead, not follow
Walk on, fly by, sail ashore
Go your own way, go now, go

There are many roads to follow
Some of them are painted red
Yet as long as we march on
No one can declare us dead.
Attempt at a Polish-style folk ballad for poetry class.
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