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James Carney Oct 30
Who gave you that name, Cinderella? Grey
Like the faded ashes they make you clean.
Strict as the hour-glass, they haven’t seen you gleam.
Granular vision curtails them to day.
Cursed curfew! Trickling sands serve time’s keen gain.  
Chandeliers and red wine, the ball’s a dream.
Midnight’s starlight in your slippers, you flee.
Shatter all the glass! And, with me, remain.
Sharp as its edges, coarse time vanishes,
Like the bacchant’s memory, your form’s bare.
Soft feet brushed by sands, lips seal promises.
Exiled, like your gown, we don’t belong there.
See through me, Cinderella, take my hand.
Your name’s gold-dust; I’ll sign it in the sand.
This poem is something of a thematic continuation of 'the little glass slipping'. I fused the petrarchan octave with shakespearean sestet to form a unique sonnet that explores romantic love and lust respectively. Hope you guys enjoy!
James Carney Oct 21
On a ridge by the ocean, the dragon respires.
Hide rugged as the coastline, against him the eons crash like waves.
Legend enchants the seabreeze, an inbreath to a shimmering trance.
Before the incandescent glow sparks like innocence into a fire.
The crystal-eyed call this Hollywood.
I discovered you there, costumed in flames, as the discharged smoke became your disguise.
Together, we performed as if we were in the dark.
Scorching exhales fogged your glasses and stifled my voice.
They say, “When you are mad, you see nothing”.  

All saints watched us in the dark this time.
Camera lenses covered your eyes and captured the revellers.
Tides ****** my mind and erased the crime.
Until they told me that I was on fire.
Misted glasses repelled a kaleidoscope of your sublime.
So, from the stake, I rasped for nothing more than an ashen grey.

Orbs burning, you grow blind, but see the truth.
My gilded urn haunted you, gold’s sharp sting.
Fairy-dust spells your name, always sparkling.
Old glasses and lapsed cinders don’t brand you.
Only your frame in my pillows would do.
I gaze into your eyes; am I dreaming?
They say, “When you are mad you see nothing.”
But madness is what you chose to see through.
And you saw blue in eyes I thought were grey
With iridescence glowing from your face.
You tasted darker than the fruits I stole.
And I’m the secret that you won’t betray,
Fused to your body with a slumber’s lace.
See through me! For my heart beats to your soul.
This is my first poem I've published here! It's a love poem inspired by fantasy/fairy-tales and how they make you feel. Really hope you enjoy!
Lucas Hilliard Apr 2019
My heart is blackening, day after day.
The cold of your fingertips has numbed me.
I suppose dark is the new way to be.
I’m but a shell of myself, one could say.
“For what, do you pray?“ “Well, for death”, I say.
I am meaningless. It’s easy to see.
When I decease, I will truly be free.
A tragedy, if my life were a play.
“Wait!” You might say, “You mustn’t take your life!”
But I am too far gone to hear your cry.
I have suffered more than any would like.
What else am I to do with this white knife?
After tonight, I will no longer have to try.
The stairway to hell should be quite a hike.

— The End —