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and i will be your
Brandon Nov 2018
I can't go to sleep
with good thoughts
still lingering in mind.

I must ride the wave
until it's Crest
breaks under
the passing of time.

Till my self and whole
are torn asunder
I plunge into the depths.

Passing now,
the shallow veil.

I have grown quite adept,
in this game I call "my life"
and godly humored quest.

The easiest move is riding it out
it's acceptance which is hard.

Now the wave is gone, but I sink on
into deeper, and deeper depths
till dawn.
Speculations on why I usually can't sleep
DAVID Sep 2018
De tu cuerpo, pegado
A mi, tu esencia de mujer
Ese perfume secreto, biologico
Que alcanzas al estallar

Y mis labios y mis ojos,
Te adoran, pero mi nariz
te siente, todos los días,
en cada momento

Tu llegada al cielo, esta
En mis sentidos, como una
Marca invisible, sin ataduras
Mi nariz y mis sentidos

Mi cuerpo te pertenece,
mi olfato, te ama cada dia,
En cada momento, entre los
Recovecos de la vida diaria

Esta tu esencia, y tus ojos,
Miel dulce y verdad, y la
Falta de amarras no hace
que te sienta menos, al reves

Te siento en mi pecho, latiendo
Como tu me sientes a mi, en tu
pecho, en ese pecho color rosa,
Amado besado y adorado.

Ahí habito en silencio, entre
tus pechos, eres una y son todas,
Eres la verdad, mi conexión con
La Fuente, con el universo

Que es testigo Y el cupido
de nuestro idilio, y los ojos
Cerrados con amor, para que
solo te vea mi alma

Y entre tus ojos de mujer,
Entre tus ojos de leona,
la verdad, que amas y que
eres amada.

Y el tiempo y la distancia
Son nada, si te llevo en mi
Pecho, y descanso yo entre
tus pecho adorados.

Y tu llegada al cielo, es
Mi deber, mi deseo mas
Grande, el verte llegar, al cielo
Volando junto a mi

Como una bandada, de
leones alados, en camino
Hacia las vacaciones, en la
Energía, su ENERGIA

Eso que nos hizo amarnos,
Eso que te hizo esperarme en
Silencio tantos años, sabiendo
Paciente que tu día llegaria

Y que serias mía, y que tus brazos
De alabastro, que amo, serían
El cielo que son hoy, eres


Ojalá que entiendas, que tu
espera no fue en vano, que
Soy solo un hombre a vuestros
Pies, pues cerca de ti siento paz

Y entre miradas cómplices
Y nuestras almas en sintoniza, como el cielo, se sienten tu brazos.

algún día volaremos
a descansar en su

Y como una banda de leones,
Alados y fieros, llegaremos
Donde ya pertenecemos, eso
James debe olvidarse

Que nadie puede quitarte
tu boleto, eres mía, sin ataduras,
Y tienen un león que les pertenece
Las adora, y ustedes su cielo.

Mi espada lleva vuestro
nombre, en letra secretas
Que brillan cuando estais
A las musas.
atlas voyager Sep 2018
muses sent a running start,
warmth upon your brittle heart.

baby steps, play your part,
bloom into a work of art.
based on an old poem i cant find and could only vaguely remember. the sentiment is there, anyway.
Pauper of Prose Aug 2018
When every pristine picture
With every serene scent
Alongside the most melodic melodies
Joined by teasing, titillating touches
Converge along one path,
Each from a different den
Behold, four fearsome horsemen
Galloping faster than the most energized dart
Towards one defenseless unsuspecting heart
Mia Taljaard May 2018
Every now
and every then
I bite on my black inked pen

For every line
that I start
I tear the written page apart

I sit in silence
or in a crowd
My inspiration gives no sound

I search up high
and down below
still my ideas does not grow

I have seen
and I have looked
still nothing has me hooked

I have asked the moon
and I have asked the sun
No answer followed, not even one

I need that poison
that special drink
that down my throat I can sink

To trigger my ideas
to trigger that bright light
ideas that will keep me up at night

Give me the poison
and all the red wine
that turns feelings to words that is mine

But long and hard
I search around
this poison could not be found

Until the night I kissed a man
the night that was filled with liquor sips
and I could taste that special poison on his lips  

All the lights flicked back on
Wires buzzing back to life  
my tongue transformed to a shard steel knife

The words came easily
and they came in a flow
with my words these pages will glow

And as the poison leaves my veins
and leaves me empty once more
I now know what I'm looking for

For everyone that has beat of heart
and everyone that I can see
breaths a bit of poison into me

I see it now in all their eyes
all the cries and all the lies
I use that poison they hold in
and write it down sin for sin

I'm addicted to this simple taste
of this special poison waste
to fill this empty dull grey hole
with another's cracked up soul

My pages drown in what I see
when another's poison flows through me
Every drop of soul that I savour
gives my words a tang of flavor

I nip at his poisonous cologne  
while I bottle up my own

And I wonder to myself
Does my poison stand on another's shelf?
trinity Mar 2018
why must sadness always be my muse?
why can i only use words
to fill my own emptiness?
i want to write about the sunbeams that dance on my wall
about how my baby sister laughs
about the stars and my passions
i want to get so carried away in the love and beauty i know that i forget how to write and my words become nonsense and my sentences run on and on and on until they overflow
i want kindness and joy to emanate from my work
i want my cheeks to ache from smiling
instead of my eyes burning from tears
i want to change
i want to heal
hey if anyone can explain what this even means you get uh bragging rights what a mess
sunprincess Feb 2018
O' Muses of poetry left us with a smile
and so many questions

What inspires one to become a poet?
Love? Happiness? Depression?

Some poets write poems continuously
Morning, noon, and night

From where comes this burning love?
From where this obsession?

And we write of muses and poetry
Until we can write no more
some souls burn the brightest only after seeing the abysmal darkness. we will not be extinguished, as our worth is indescribable. the universe would not exert such ferocity to keep us here if we weren't meant for something ineffable – the changes we shall elicit in the world: together.
yet in this testament, the truth comes to light. our souls have been tied together from the dawn of time; reliving countless lives. the scriptures forgot about us. mythology mentions us; but fails to depict us in the same tangent, let alone together.
we are more than the greek goddesses and muses, we encompass the celestial bodies of the heavens. artemis aurora, and calliope polaris.
you are the goddess of the hunt, protector and patroness of the forest; as your ribbons fill the night with ethereal glowing light.
I am the muse of epic poetry who hangs above the sky, guiding lost travelers when the universe was still a child.
we come together upon the call of night to fulfill our destinies until the end of eternity, or until the galaxy burns out and we are born anew. maybe then will we be one; as it was meant to be.
but until that time finally comes, I am satisfied just to share the sky with you; hoping that I may catch a glimpse of the green mysticism that you weave each night.
a prophet ballad between kindred spirits. february 15th, 2015
july hearne Dec 2017
there are things
i can't do anymore
i've been doing all those things
a lot lately

just can't stop
every night the songs are played
i've had enough but i would just
have to do nothing or do something else

i'de like to be more descript
but every night
i inhale something lit
and scott gimple just knows
he is a better writer than Robert Kirkman
every time he kills off the main character,
the most integral part of the story,
the whole reason for the story in the first place
the most integral guy in the story
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