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Snowflakes hum inside my head,
bumping to and fro.
Stinging sky meets soggy ground and nothing seems to stick.

Each flake is different, so I'm told--
each unknowable and cold, they vanish when you try to grasp them--
fleeting, fragile wisps.

I've spun no story strong enough
to stake my ship upon.
My tears dry up before they're spilled for little lasts for long.

Blankets white I find here not--
that, nor green-clad earth--
only harried solitude inside these biting mists.

Perhaps my blust'ring mind is not
leading me to tread my sought-for courses; I fear I've forgot them
yearning for the drifts.

But elsewhere 'neath the firmament, there are other skies.
There are other thoughts in other hearts apart from mine.

From over where the snow falls
and beneath the bedrock's roots
flames unflinching flicker still through height and depth and width.
Some of my poems come together in a few quiet minutes or an afternoon-- this one's been in the works for over a month and I'm still mulling it over.  I first conceived it when I was driving to a college visit and it started flurrying.

I'd like to hear some criticism regarding the sound.  It's got a specific meter and lots of assonance and consonance, with a few perfect rhymes.  I really liked developing the sounds, but I think it might be a little too sing-song in certain parts, especially since all of the lines are iambic.  I intentionally broke patterns in a few places to make it a little bit disorienting and frustrating while still pleasant, and I'm not sure if I've got the effect quite right.  How would you describe the sounds?  Did you notice them working with with or the themes?  Is it happy, playful, frustrating, satisfying?  (Did anyone pick up on "windy" sounds with all the effs and esses? I was quite proud of that)

Many thanks :-D
JoyAndPain Nov 2020
i am wearing the same thing two days in a row
why do you care? its cute though.
i like this shirt and jeans a lot.
i wish to wear them before they get washed.
this is a consonance. :)
Ces Sep 2020
An ethereal and spiritual atmosphere
A presence that cannot be seen
but felt by a heart full of yearning
Music devoid of rhythm and consonance
That seeps into the deepest crevices
of a mind that longs for the infinite
Such an enchanting melody that permeates
the room. A dreamworld opened up
by nothing but the artful arrangement
of sound.
Z Sep 2020
40
i pull away
i don't know what to say,
it's too familiar
my apprehension
at simple questions,
at gentle whispers

we'd spend our evenings
chasing feelings
we'd try to capture
hypnotized
by those lattice lies
we manufactured

but i can't talk
i missed so many calls
and i can't think
i just can't get involved

i'm on a break, i just can't take this,
i'm suspending consciousness
my reality
has lost all consonance

but, oh,
there's nothing much i miss
and, oh,
i just wanna stay like this
Filomena Nov 2018
My mind is a prison.
I can read the sign, but it wasn't mentioned in the manual.
Just sigh and move on.
Fallert May 2018
Every time I look up,
The clouds will block my sight.
Every time I raise my arms,
Shackles hold me tight.
They keep me to the ground,
With a fierce and gruesome might.
And as I glance at my surroundings,
I know this isn’t right.

They say that hope will help you,
Save you from drowning in the sea.
But still the arms will wrap me up,
Laugh as they listen to my plea.
I’ll have freedom in my palm,
Then trip and drop the key.
And as I try to escape myself,
I know no one’s saving me.

As I sit at the desk I’m writing,
With the blood from my own veins.
My hands will remain shackled,
Still weighed down by the chains.
But I’m fighting, and I’m trying,
Whistles blowing from the trains.
I’m not screaming, I’m not crying,
Run away from all the pains.

While sitting in the corner,
Lifting up my aching hand,
I think about the people,
Standing outside, as they planned.
This is my new place now,
Suppose this my home land,
I can still see liberty,
But I’m sinking in the sand,
Stuck inside my own mind,
They’ll never understand.
Chrissy Jan 2017
Like lions licking lacerations
Limp-lipped, lucid lamentation
Loyalties lax, love's liquidation
Lapping lust's lye lemonade

Like lemmings, leaping liberation
Loose-limbed, lurid lachrymation
Learning love's lone limitation
Life: liars lie, lovers lay
Cate Sep 2016
Strawberry sun
hot on swaying hips

a shimmer of skin,
sultry beacon of temptation.

Days smear in sweat
and grass stains.

Twilight carries dusty toes
a few steps further.

Legs dangling, lonely
top of rusted tower,

Moon whispering
“come and kiss me”.

Languid laughter lilts
lining ancient constellations

Space(s) [is] filled
By our separation.

Cicadas croon,
Biding elusive slumber,

dawn’s yellow tendrils grasp eyelashes,
rays morph into rivers of light.

Time, the illusion of a tether;
A notion of perpetual motion

Adrift an absent-minded sea,
Hazy, evasive sleep

Our ropes will fray
in wisps and waves of heat.

C.e.M.
31082016
fun piece I wrote for a competition
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