Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lyn-Purcell Jun 2018
My regrets and sorrows slumber in snow
at the idea of loving again.
My soul wishes for the bridge to connects
us so I may enter your dream palace
unafraid. Just to catch the sight of you.
My heart on my sleeve, my soul in the mist
and something echoes in my mind,
the idea of love.

A concept so beautiful that it can transcend
a lifetime as well as destroy a nation.
My soul will sleep in sorrow's snow
till the day I will rise again tall and strong
When the need to shed my tears has gone
I live for tomorrow and tomorrow's tomorrow
Until you sit by in to feel the hearth
inside my heart.
Feeling rather melancholy compared to earlier.
My nerves seem to grow raw with each passing day this month, no idea why.
Anyway, this is the last poem for the night.
Got a big day ahead tomorrow!

Be back soon!
Lyn ***
A Simillacrum May 2018
It's in the time spent inside yourself
when you drift gone away
If you think about it, it's a privilege,
as some hearts will stay stuck
bound by glue to material

It's in the pain you feel and know oh so well
Yet people in power surround your personal space
When it comes to empathy they invalidate
you but if you get ahead by accident even
they smell the success from the hills and
find sudden intense interest in your claim

It's in the distance you're given
and the lengths you create
Isolated in darkened corners
of the room it's our first
order to wilt if not hate

I know it myself from again and again
So if you're worried and scared that
They'll suffocate your sanctuary fire
I want you to know that folk who would
Assault and loot your art never had a home
Kuvar Feb 2018
I don't need a geographer
To take me round the world
I don't need a compass
To direct me south west east north
I don't need a sailor
To sail me in the dark light seas
I don't need a pilot
To fly me all way above the earth
Let me whisper the truth in your  ears
My lady is the world
Inside her is the map
She takes me round the world
She magenetizes me to the paths
She sails my heart through the storms
She flies my mind out of the earth
And she whispers the truth in my ears
You must travel round me my Love
(c) Kuvar
love
defeats me
you own me
no free will
you are my way
rock smashes scissors
break our swords
Scissors cut paper
tear up our poetry
paper covers rock.
shielded by policy

we have our voices.
all rock, all scissor, all paper.
all spock, all lizard
we do not play games, we Speak.
We throw spock hands like Gang signs
spit parsel tongue at pride haters
we write love letters to revolution
We cut red tape with our long fuzes
Hit rock bottom, more bass in our
Voices than god knows what to do with
So we tell him exactlly where it should go.

Rock Paper Scissors Lizard Spock

They hold their pens like scissors
carving history books into erasure poems

We would swing our pens like swords.
But no leader we trust has been elected yet.

We would have a leader to guide us
But snakeoil salesmen plague our trenches.

There would be no snakeoil salesmen if
we had a stable government

We would have a stable government
but the stability was sharpied out of our history books.

And To history, loud voices sound
like the fires of god.
And are we not the voices with more bass then God knows what to do with.
without words on the wind,
There is no flame
so aren't we fire.

We all have tealights waiting in cold oven hearts.
stone hearths begging for Ignition
eager for bootleg promises of warmth
The orange rhetoric of our future
no warmer than tinders logo.
or a video recording of a fireplace
flickering on a flatscreen at best buy.
We are distracted constantly.
misdirected by Houses of paper cards
origami swans we don't dare unfold
Staying ignorant of the tire track liner inside.
origami swans are so much more beautiful
when they have secrets, right?

I have a matchstick
watch me strike it lit
flare this paper swan into a pheonix.
And hold it in my fist.
there will be fire.
and it will not be a metaphor
But It will be a revolution
And it will be a pheonix
and the pheonix WILL be a metaphor

The Rabbi at Temple Beth El
said when a mans consumed by gods fire
it is a severance from faith, a spiritual death.
what have we done
if not lost faith in our government?
Been consumed by the fires of god.
and why not tattoo pheonix feathers
on our backs?
at least this death gave us warmth.
a home in the world's ashes.

I stared at the dragons fire that stormed towards me
thanked it for the oppurtunity
to walk out of this world
holding dragons eggs
Like Daneris Tygareon
and they will be real dragons.
incubated by REAL fire
despite this crumbling cataclysm
you call a great america.
Spock handed Lizards larger and louder
with all the rocks
paper and scissors they need
to set the world on fire.
To Finally see something beautiful be born.
A Home that keeps them warm.
M May 2017
driving around in your car at midnight the city lights bright the radio down low i look at you with the biggest smile as you concentrate on the road
-M.
shreds of time
sparks of light changing
the world
fleeting revelations tipping
your presumptions
indelible strokes imprinted
in your bowels
impalpable scratches dragging
an eternity of memories

shreds of time
black lines defining the boundary
between before and after
inclement discharges breaking
your heart
rambling crackles resounding
in a solitary echo
unpredictable wrong notes
that marked
your life
Viseract Jun 2016
Can't you see
You're smothering
My warming fire?

I love you
And I am proof
Filled with desire

I just wanna let go
Be the fire that melts the snow
Surrounding, your heart
And be your welcoming hearth

<3
Mmmmm... warm fire :) there's enough for two of us.... <3
Next page