Brynn S Dec 2018
The translucent glass
Small vines wrap around
It connects the inside to the outer shell
The bones of hollow
And the gloss of blues
Vivid to the eye
Reflections of light show themselves
The small mysteries of earthy heavens
The sounds of frigid winds carry
The small angels of earth
They blend and blind the blood ones
Those who stalk its lusterful beauty
To watch it float is like to watch a tear fall
Fall from the eyes of innocence
Glowing with flames of ice
Perpetual harmonious laughter
Ringing like small myths to the eyes
Glorious creature they are
Glorious they will be,
Those who fly
Inspiration from Dr. Faustus, giving light to darkness
Masha Yurkevich Dec 2018
It rests;
old,
chipped,
cold
dried from the wind.
dark,
patient
once it had the song of a lark.
Fine,
gentle,
something that can stop time.
Dusty,
yet the melody it hold is heavenly.
It's been up there
for many years now.
Waiting patiently,
for someone to play it delicately.
For someone to smooth out its ivory keys;
for someone to notice. It cries; please.
For someone to press its keys ever so gently,
to create a sound that is only imaginary.
For someone to look beyond its physical features,
for someone to soothe it with ones fingers.
For someone to give it the love it needs;
for someone to play it with strong, steady beats.
All if asks for is a person,
a talented and caring person.
One who will take the time
to make a grand sound,
to make it shine.
To put those old ivory keys
back to work,
instead of being covered all in dirt.

The old piano sits and waits
for the perfect person
who will make a sound
that will open Heaven's Gates.
Piano. There is nothing better. The piano has no wrong keys, you just need to know how to play it. A little bit of time (ok, more than a little bit of time) and some effort and the piano becomes a heavenly instrument.
"There's nothing remarkable about it. All you need to do is hit the right keys at the right time and the instrument plays itself." ~ Johann Sebastian Bach
we are words stitched together to make a skin
while the ink is our blood
our brains?
just a bunch of cameras monitoring whats around us
in such meaningful exaggeration

we are poets
we are alive

@jasminedryer
Phi Kenzie Sep 2018
I don’t know why I’ve been waiting
for suns to burn out
and space to freeze up

It will always be hot on my back
and frigid inside without

There shouldn’t be fear
in constant continuity
when the moons and stars
are included
MicMag Aug 2018
You
my perfect gift
heaven sent
You
cherishing the sweet gift
of your presence

Counting on You (4 of 10)
a countdown series - poems of decreasing length, each using You as the first and last word
Indigo Aug 2018
For I was tought of men to be
Uncaring,not the same as we
They do not listen when we speak
They'll love to boss you all around
And have u worship at their feat
They'll tell you how to dress and talk, and maybe also how to breath
Details are none of their concerns
The kind of makeup that you wear
The color that you dye your hair
The necklace that you bought today
How you just hate that ***** called may !

You made me doubt that i was wrong..
But then again so wrong was i
Its you who are too heavenly
To know how earthly men would be!
I wrote this 3 years ago when i first met the love of my life
Mustapha Olokun Jul 2018
sweet trinity,
how songs adventure.
hand's culture
in generational pass.

emerging emergencies
fondling core,
the schema's of ***
could I afford?
Baylee Kaye Jun 2018
tonight I finally heard your voice.
the voice I’ve been curious about,
a sound I tried to create and imagine in my head, but none of my attempts compared to it.
it was more than I could’ve ever thought.
it was soft, it was smooth,
laced in control and humble superiority.
a voice my heart will sing for,
a song my mind will race because of.
I long to hear the chorus,
I yearn for it to be more,
but I will take what I can get.
I pray to listen to that voice a multitude more.
maybe in the future, I wish for you to sing for me.
ChildofGodyay Jun 2018
Him
I want to love him more then I love life.
I want to be devoted to him.
I want to love him more than anything.
That when I die, I would be with him, in heaven.
That I would hear him say " Well done son, you did your job, you have pleased me and made me proud."
That is what I want to be.
That is what I want in my life.
The Him refers to *** actually. And I really want this.
Lana May 2018
Steer clear of malice;
To speak of arrows tipped in actuality and respond justly toward malignity.
Lest I fall under the gaze of malice becoming putrid within.

Heavenly Father above.
You paved the way to a damaged youth yet,
Almost commonplace to allow surrogate protectors,
Crawl inside my flesh only to be spat back out once again.

I realise I am not but the woman I thought myself to be;
Only an interchangeable piece in the mechanism.

A piece in the mechanism,
Intertwined between countless souls on the way of my path.

By Lana
Next page