iamtheavatar Mar 12

It is as they say:
The heart was bigger than
it used to be; and the rib
that was taken away
is yet to be found.

iamthe_avatar ©2017

A poem for love.
Made with Creative Writer app.
AfterImage Aug 2016

My breath is caught.
There's a reason they call it a rib cage.

reply to Sophia The Local Dream's "My bones" http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1747078/my-bones/
SassyJ Mar 2016

Here is my rib have it and hold it
Close by the bench on the river way
Embrace it in your silenced thoughts

Revolve with it in your wonders
Your wanderings beautifully stroked
A murder mesmerising my insides

An exquisite calm seed contemplating
A leap to a spring, the oozing elixir
Drink the portion of life and inspiration

Ohh ....your lips, they drool with honey
Your mouth sealed on our magical kiss
My all on yours, my waves voyaging

The trajectory of longevity, away and near
Within the casted redemption of heroes
A  halo, an awe standing in brilliant beauty

Miss Clofullia Oct 2015

If I ever forget to be afraid,
please break all my windows
and leave me behind,
in joyful sadness.

There’s no time
to plan our future!
the past really keeps us busy.
Please go!

Roll my head in duct tape and
take me to the natural park of your rib.
YOU gotta invent me now.
I think it’s only fair!
Just return the bible favor and let’s get it over with.

There’s no time to change our minds –
everything’s happenin’ so fast
and we fall in love with ourselves so damn slow.
I wanna run.

It seems that no one knows what they want,
Night becomes day and day becomes a monkey.
There’s nothing here for us anymore.
We used science to invent God and
God to invent hope
and even more science to fight God and
more gods to fuck people's brains
and then more science and prayers and
miracles don’t exist anymore!

They’re only wars and
people running from people.

One might think that we just
don’t know what we want.

chuckae Aug 2015

Tame my wild heart,
this violent beast
beating through me.
Encaged in my ribs,
it threatens to beat
right out of me.
I stopped living
in my dreams,
the day that I woke up,
but my wild heart
raced away the
heart break.
And left me
with a whole
in my ribcage,
were the notorious
creature used
to be.

Remembering June Aug 2015

I'd be a butterfly,
For Heaven's sake.
The kind that Noah forgot to take.
But still survived The Flood...
In your eyes.
I'd build a boat.
Out of your ribcage,
To set the birds free.
You heard me!
Butterflies?
Fuck butterflies,
I got birds inside me.
No.
What I have to say,
comes from the rip chord
of my razor blades.
Waiting my whole life
for that rubber band
to snap back.

Thank God for my destruction.
Thank God for my ruble.
Because tree's
grow out of the sides
of stone cold mountains.
That have been blown up
by the rough hands
of people mining for gold.

And people set forest fires
on purpose.
To get rid of the dead stuff.
So new things can grow.
And Sometimes.
I pick the plants.
Just to see how much dead stuff
I can accumulate,
before I set myself on fire.
And when I do,
I swear to God.
I'll be an empty notebook.
So you can cover me with lines.
The good kind.
That come from your pencil.
Cause we don't have to roll up
dollar bills
to see the moon, anymore.

Frank Ruland Nov 2014

There was a canary in my rib cage.
Golden, splendorous feathers
crested from its chest and wings.
It sang, "I'll soar! I'll soar!"

T'would often fly away
to enjoy the fair weather,
enjoying the warmth the sun brings.
Something lovely to adore.

Though, on one fine day,
it flew too close to the Nether--
home to such horrid things.
For my canary, what lay in store?

Under black skies, its golden rays
found hellions at the end of their tethers.
Amongst them, came a crow, beckoning,
"Canary--come here, I implore!"

So, my canary flew its way,
eager to see thing thing never
before seen, so welcoming!
Another bird, it had never seen before!

"Hello, friend--how are you today?"
Asked my canary, to the maligned member.
*"I won't lie. I'm a tad unhinged.
Won't you show me your home's door?"

"Yes! From this place we'll stray!
I hope its traces you won't remember.
Let this Hell no longer infringe!"*
Ti my rib cage went to scour.

They found its cage before late,
but when the crow saw such splendor,
it made shedding its persona a cinch.
My canary was pecked to death before an hour.

So now, there's a crow in my rib cage.
The Hell in its soul makes me tremble,
its tactless talons make me flinch,
and my canary it devours.

Yeah, some of the rhymes were a real stretch... I debated putting this up. Not as great as I wanted it to turn our. Just a different concept, I guess.
Daniel Mashburn Sep 2014

What pain can a death bring?
I'm not talking about life
Or those petty little heartbeats.

But rather when some one leaves us.
Breaks our trust and betrays us.
Shatters faith. Destroys heart strings.

Is it enough to bother?
I am smothered.

I am dying a death, supernatural.

I'm drowning in self doubt.
I'm choking on ashes.

If anger is a demon then hatred is another.
They tear at my rib cage. Shredding my insides.
They rip out my heart, replace it with nothing.

I  am nothing.
And nothing is I.

He sits under that apple tree
on gnarly knoll beside the glade.
He thinking, haven't I done well
with the decisions he had made.

The first I heard that male voice
just droning on about his Rib.
The thing is though if I complain
his face exudes a lamented jib.

He calls me Woe-Man just for fun
and reckons now his troubles start.
Thinks I have got it all my own
when all he does is Moan and Fart.

God told him I was called Woman
this name provides him with a joke
at my expense amusements aim.
Its aim to hurt and cause provoke.

His rib he gave with good intent,
perhaps he should of dwelt upon
the reasons for such hankerings.
I do believe a selfish one.

This man whom needed company,
so afraid of being alone
wanted something to rule upon.
Something to order and to own.

In his mind there was no doubt.
Sharing his home with such a one.
This Paradise that he calls home
will be so different when I’m done.

Expected handmaid I shall not
if he thinks this is what I be
a shock is coming so immense.
The man is blind but soon shall see.

Paradise they call this place.
I had no choice in coming here.
But now I am I make the most.
And certainly wont live in fear.

He’s quite attractive to the eye.
He makes his creator a good son.
There are many things I can improve
like make him put some trousers on.

I only ask him for one thing.
The smallest favour is all I ask.
In his deluded simple mind
he turns this into such a task.

That apple hanging true and bright
gleaming in the mid-day sun.
I yearn to taste a little bite
but he says No! and thinks he’s won.

He plies me with every other crop
but mind is set on other fruit
he tells me this is God’s demand
but in my mind I’m resolute.

I only have one friend in life.
Charming serpent of my acquaint.
Such an helpful companion
but evil is what my man must paint.

My serpent friend is always ready
to help me gain my aims in life.
Reminds me that my husband should
show some allegiance to his wife.

I wonder how, if I withdraw
with certain charms that I do hold.
This will change his manly mind
and leave him feeling that I'm cold.

I swoon around in tender pose,
temptation broiling in his mind.
Portraying naked silhouette
with glistening breast and smooth behind.

Positioned touch in private place
his temperature wont take much more,
he’ll soon pay with forbidden fruit.
The price he pays to bed his whore.

Resolve is lessening by the hour,
too make sweet love will surely sway.
He’ll promise anything for this
a price that he shall dearly pay.

Eventually my way is won,
the fruit positioned at my feet.
I got my way his will undone
but apple tastes so far from sweet.

I know not where my friend has gone.
To lose a friend is far from good
then God turns up so far from pleased
and chases us from gardens wood.

Cast from Eden is our fate
our goods and home suddenly gone.
Evicted we pathetic pair
just us to walk this world alone.

Why didn’t I listen to that man
instead of taking serpents phrase.
Perhaps I may of listened more
if only he had shed some praise.

Is there a moral I can say
to help others if I can.
If only I had remained a rib
there'd never be another man.

A satirical view from the female point of view to the poem "Woman. The Wo in Man.
28th October 2011
cynosure Aug 2014

Your words crawled through my auditory cortex like caterpillars, preventing me from hearing anything other than the inflection in your deep voice. As your body inched closer to mine, they took residence in my chest cavity, building chrysali that hung off of my ribs making it more and more difficult to inflate my heavy lungs. They cocooned themselves as I too wrapped myself up in you. Suddenly, your lips were on mine and your hands were counting the vertebrae down my back, scaring the insects from their resting place, resulting in chills up my spine. The newly emerged butterflies flew out of my sternum and up into my throat, longing to be closer to you. But then you pulled away and they instantly died, leaving me with a bitter taste in my mouth.

— The End —