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In the land of shadow,
Where the walls are always grim,
And a candle’s golden flame
Is destined to be dim,
Lie many pilgrim shadows,
Who searched in name of sin
For Edgar’s Eldorado
Where darkness roams within.
idk something in my poetry journal
Brandon Conway Aug 2018
You're laid out with a blank stare
with dreams of becoming a millionaire
on the couch where you're ensnared
stuck in what you call a nightmare

Sorry I have no sympathy
to your muscle atrophy
while you lay in envy
I just can not pity
so I invite you to the city
to come experience poetry
its what helps me feel less ******

No thanks, just let me wallow
while my soul feels so hollow
I will not, can not, follow
I have lost my bravado
go on you wild desperado
to your El Dorado

At least one of us has found gold.
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
Time, kindness and knowledge
are above the price of
gold
That is where true gold lies.
Thanks so much for the comments on my 'Pandora's Box' poem! ^-^
I saw that it was trending! Man, I love this page and you guys!  
Lyn ***
Sanjukta Nag Oct 2015
I rose with chilled air of dawn.
Holding the baby sun on my palm
I ponder at his mystery of liquefaction,
That spreads the hidden gold of Eldorado
Over my shivering shoulders.
I wish if I were a flamingo
Waiting on one leg
For the perfect moment of sunrise,
To dissolve all of my tints of pink
With his melted gold
On the blue lagoon of Galapagos.
Martin Narrod Apr 2014
I have a blue blanket, it looks corduroy but it's synthetic polynesian cotton.
Considered by some to be polyester. After the ninth year of ownership I started
Telling house guests it had always been mine; but secretly knowing it came from my
Ex Kristina who left it with some of her other things in 2005 in my grand deluxe Evanston
Apartment. In like some really awesome way, I could fold the corners together to see little blocks
Of the Universe form cubes in the fourth dimension and gain a better understanding of my own
Little black shmata. Top drawer, white dresser, in the back with the leftover girlfriend underwear between
My first ever stuffed animal dog/rabbit.

Amazing how these thinned and frayed azure threads had held so many midnight conversations Together- maybe fifteen other girls had nuzzled with Kristina's blanket. Last year the guilt set in. You Watch a girlfriend, say, ratchet through your room naked for something soft to put over her to listen to
Some half-stanza from the new Yeats critical and that, do-I-tell-her feeling comes over you. Blue Polyester really had a way with women. My last serious crush, the one of six months, the one from the place that was close to where I worked six days a week, would you believe, she had not interest in that heap of thread, under my pillows spying on us sleep for twenty-four long weeks.

"Drop in the bucket" the sixty-year-olds say. I say, bring me my ******* fourth dimension blocks and cubes *******. I want to visit the existential, I want to experience the hoo-ra and Ga-Ga those kids throw around on Milwaukee waiting for $150 NBA slippers.

Wednesday is my day for telling the truth.
2:00p.m. sitting in the front of her alizarin El Dorado.
"I have something I have to tell you,"  I said, my mouth practically filled with marbles as I barely could Utter the words: it's not going to work out.
Written For Jeff Sherfey

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