tonight's early sky
hung a poem

for the capture

but my muse's
net wasn't
woven tight enough

to hold that slip of a moon
or its partner
that one tiny star
She is a disease
Once you captured her
You were caught up on her
Hard to be immune to
And with you every step of the way
Even if she was deadly
My tongue feels like lead.
There is a buzzing in my head.
Th lights are too bright,
It's too late in the night,
I just want to leave,
Can you even believe
that I am on a boat?
I'm not supossed to float!
But now I must sing,
for only I can bring
A calm to the sea
These sailors are looking at me
with a new found clarity.
For I can bring them prosperity
all because of my shimmering tail.
But don't worry for I will prevail.
Because with the shinning of the moon.
I will bring them all their doom.
Sometimes I feel trapped with no way out then I remember I have claws.
Riley June Mar 20
animalistic snarls of affection,
beaten black and blue with your care,
captured in a casket of adoration,
drowned by the depth your devotion,
every ounce of feeling evades being touched,
filth covers my entire being,
gathered around my ankles lain to rest,
here I make my permanent home,
isolated within the island I imagined,
joined only in the company of the devil,
kingdoms constructed in the safety of my mind,
locked to live only in the constraints you create,
maniac motivations for your emotions,
never clean I always display your artwork,
observed and analyzed by the fans you created,
place your purpose on my skin,
quietly carve out all devotion to sacrifice,
rot the lust you hold in the bed to nourish growth,
sin alongside the saviour so doubt can spread,
tempt those that claim to be sacred,
understand the grasp of the underworld,
vacancy lives within the glaze over your eyes,
weak souls wander in search of strength,
xenophobia surrounds your being,
you never trusted me to give me my life,
zip my bag close so I can have a final embrace.
Who's life belongs to oneself
Who gave life.
Who takes it away.
The giver of life comes from God.
With whom shall you compare me.
Says the Lord my God.
My ways are not your ways.
And my thoughts are not yours.
My plan for you is different from
The plan that you dream for yourself.
Listen to me.
Hear my voice
Seek me with all your heart
For the time is near.
Draw life from my well.
And I will heal all your diseases.
Rebel Heart Jan 8
Everything you see is art

He loves me

The way you focus your camera
And get that gleam in your eye
Right before capturing a moment
Before it slips away

He loves me not

The way you focus on me
And get that sparkle in your eye
Right before capturing my lips with yours
Before our moment slips away

He loves me

Everything you touch is art

He loves me not

The way your fingers glide across
The guitar strings
As you breathe melody into the world

He loves me

The way your fingers glide across
My bare skin
As you breathe fire into my bones

He loves me not

Everything about you is art

He loves me

But nothing about me is

He loves me not

Me, the empty canvas

He loves me

You, my only form of art

He loves me not

One intoxicating touch

He loves me

My broken heart

*He loves me not
Alas, art is something found within you not given to you by someone else. And that day I lost my heart to you, I found that art within myself

(Hello again loves, this particular piece dates back to 2010 but I found it to be very interesting. I don't think I still understand all of it but leave your thoughts, comments, etc below and happy writing! ~BM)

(Front Page 1/9/2018)
Eliah SolRae Nov 2017
Stag antlers are like,
Spears pointing towards the sky.
He prances away, shy.
Poetic T Sep 2017
Woven in silk depression even though pure,
I hang slightly on every strand.
I could weave a moment around me
                                        and hang static.

Would anyone notice the slight stillness ensuing
on my web of thought. Or would I just be
a cocooned memory hanging on my own
                                               web of depression.

Only feeding upon myself... A trap of my own doing,
feeding on the misery that I have woven not
realizing this web is  
                                  to capture myself.
Dr zik Jul 2017
What a beauty of a flower showing!
What a fragrance of a flower mentioning!
What silence of a bud can offer?
What a dawn whispering!
What a dewdrop capturing!
Can You say?
It is not about You.
O’ my Lord!
It's all about you Lord
--------
Dr. ZIK's Poetry
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