Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
s Willow Jan 8
Paleness on ex-lover’s face,
Our impassable fate brought.
In madness,
He’s missing from his holy palace.
Pyrrha Oct 2018
You are my sanctuary
I find shelter in your words
I feel safe in your embrace

You are my circus
I find mischief in your eyes
I feel out of control in your presence

You are my palace
I find elegance to your stride
I feel blown back by every room

You are my jewel
I find myself jealous of your beauty
I feel you sparkle with life

You are my everything and more
I find more reasons to love you ignite
I feel them spark with everyday
Faded gilding, rubbed through to cracking, flaking wood.
A glamour of ages, sliding, flies to the breeze.

The little bird perches on a once-fine moulding;
Head tilted, one bright eye turned towards the mantle
where a half-blind mercurised mirror barely reflects
an army of creeping vines, consuming ***** angels
and the God of this house.

Our hero’s velvets are ruined, dripping and eaten through.
Where riches have lived, decay succeeds.
Nature’s velvets; opulent mosses and emerald lichens
are devouring damask
and smoothing over marbled hardness.

The bird listens for footsteps.
The lady would scatter crumbs on the windowsill
and he would flutter, unafraid,
to peck at her sweet feast.

Once, she drew him.
Fine-lining passerine delicacy,
her pencils fetched him,
and bestowed him an artist’s nobility.
He turned, this way and that,
flashing gold-touched wings,
miming a duchess snapping open a fan.

She’s gone now,
and so have the crumbs.
The bird senses no sugar on the sill,
nor the faintest reminiscence
of lavender perfume, glittering as star bursts
at the hollow of her throat.

He sings regardless,
a mournful beauty
longing to return to a glorious, lustful age,
where light refracted in cut crystal,
danced upon frescoes
and illuminated the **** –
- to render them enchanting.

He swoops to dance on the mantle,
answered by the mirror
and sits a while, preening.

The gentlemen and ladies are gone forever.
Ejected from history to echo as ghosts of fancy and excess,
undeserving of remembrance or pity.

The bird will never forget.
And knots up secrets
kept tightly in his breast,
committed to his tiny, fierce heart.
The Goldfinch is my favourite bird - both owing to its numerous appearances in Renaissance art and as the silent protagonist in Donna Tartt's book bearing its name.
Arcassin B Aug 2018
By Arcassin Burnham

No more loop holes,

Tell them what you meant,
You only live once , there's so much time
to repent,
Lucky with no friends,
But if you did,
They will put a price on your kindness for
hate people to devour,
In final hours the fire gets louder bursting
the mind of a youngin' whos probably
proud of something beautiful that he
made in the garden ,but wheres the eden?
Finding that out is impossible , quite
an achievement,

Bright minds nowadays,

They only find solace,
Don't find the disposition of an emotional
malice,
In your mind you built a palace,
They can't break you down and if they did
they'll never take your dignity and pride,
you're a God,
But as broken as shards while moving the
stars in a negative o-zone that is this
earth, if you find any kind of harmony and
peace in your heart , I hope you find it
soon cause the world is doomed, Don't
break yourself apart young one.
©abpoetry2018

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2018/08/the-beast-pt1.html
Reem Hajal Aug 2018
their feet clicked along the marble floor,
blue, gold, and embroidered flowers
covered every tapestry of the castle.
click, click, click
chants rose in the air,
statues of past kings judged the dancers,
diamonds fell from ring fingers of maids,
my presence embellished by the eyes of the admirers.  
click, click, click
the horologe matched the tapping sound of the guests’ footsteps,
my time was running out.
click, click, click

an angel whispered,
“time was never real.”

click,
click,
click,
(only this time, it was only my feet.)
Aa Harvey Jun 2018
Visiting the palace


In palace corridors the music glides throughout minds
And finds itself welcomed and ignored at the same time.
It drifts in and out like the smiles on the faces,
Which say they are happy, but there are also traces,
Of nervousness; some emotionless.
The never ending search for acceptance.


Wishing to fit in, but never able to attain a place,
For you are born below and below you will always remain;
But still you try to become more,
As you walk the beautiful palace corridors.


Never fitting in, trying to not stand out,
When all you are made to do is stand around.
Never making your way into,
So always ending up without.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
MARK RIORDAN Feb 2018
2018 IS NOW HERE
TRUMP CHRONICLES IS IN THE HOUSE
PRESIDENT TRUMP IS READING THEM
NOTHING IS STURRING BUT A MOUSE



TRUMP CHRONICLES IS ALSO IN THE PALACE
WITH ANOTHER CARD FROM THE QUEEN
I NOW HAVE A GREAT COLLECTION
LIKE NEVER EVER BEFORE SEEN



ANOTHER 5 BOOKS WILL BE RELEASED
IN MY COLLECTION TO BEHOLD
THERE WILL BE 19 IN THE ANTHOLOGY
MY STORY NOW CAN BE TOLD



19 BOOKS FOR THE WORLD TOO SEE
ARE ALL AVAILABLE ON amazon.com
COME ON WORLD HAVE A LOOK
AND SEE WHERE I AM FROM
TRUMP CHRONICLES IS NOW IN BUCKINGHAM PALACE AND THE WHITE HOUSE. TRUMP CHRONICLES THE BEST BOOK ON PRESIDENT TRUMP amazon.com
There's this little shop in heaven
They call it Cocoa Palace
It's where God creates the world's greatest chocolates!
Idris Elba was made there
Boris Kodjo too
This is where Tyrese was double dipped
& where 2 Chainz got the juice
...
This shop is open to the public
So all the little girls (& boys) in line can have a little of chocolate too!
I've been in line a few times cause you see
A girl, like me, has an allergy
Cocoa could literally **** me
So God sends me gifts
Every now & again
To see which chocolates my body can stand
There was mocha with nuts
A beautiful cheating candy bar
There was double dipped chocolate fudge
I knew that was going too far
I shouldn't press my luck
He even sent white chocolate macadamia
But even that didn't **** with my taste buds
...
Recently I turned 21
& I knew He had something special wrapped up
He sent an import with hints from the islands
The type of chocolate ordered by queens & stolen by pirates
A special order for me
Milk chocolate dipped in honey
Drizzled with black licorice
Coated with a mouth piece
It even came with instructions
Savor slowly please
Negative reaction? Not yet
So maybe it's meant to be
Was this God's Special recipe?
....
Of course not, baby, you have an allergy .
Poem 4— Muffin
Next page