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Poetic T Jan 21
A cradle of no laughter,
               the silence crawls on
                            Every sheet.

Where there was fondness of
blue pools filled with stars.
           Now black holes
                       Of desperation
Collapse within the weight of self.

The cradle is voidless in our
   Sunken voyage of silence.
       I look upon the stars
            And you became a supernova.
Derrek Faraday Oct 2018
In the Plymouth Pass where I have passed
I witness buckles gaining mass
The paper cuts within my brew
Lampoon another step anew

Here lies where my skin was sewn
Wheezing steel, nature-grown
The gasps around my mind can see
The naked yellow tether

Where I have seen my lover last
She kept me in a dress of brass
I long to see the Painted Crew
And eat the early morning dew

Dying’s cheap, dying moans
But living’s false and lies alone
For I believe that there’s a seed
That dares to croon, “forever”

I am strapped to a crown of birds
A shepherd of a mangled herd
We saw the Creviced Brigantine
And dreamt to hear a Byzantine

But speed, it saunters with a lapse
Cleaving instantaneous gaps
Who keeps watch to study time?
I’ll lock my learned head

In mondegreens, I taste a word
That chimes the gong of Lost Kyntire
Delouse the tongue with saccharines
Postcards via magazines

The wheels don’t turn, no, they collapse
Into a delta off the maps
I weep the street with sweat of rhyme
To lose what I have read

Where is Homer’s furrowed lining?
I forget my ink a-shining
The sun berates my slanted sleep
Which leads me to a voidless keep

The ties I twirl have never told
Me money’s green and fakes a fold
This jagged jingle holds a pen
That rakes a love of wealth

My mind is braised and stamped for finding
Reasons for a word’s rescinding
By my sins, I rest on heaps
Of famine-stricken sermon-sheeps

My steel-laced cries have never sold
A penny for my growing old
I decry the breadth of men
Who drink and die to their own health

Christ, I tire of my treads
I sense distaste of the well-fed
Sprouting my depraved behaviour
To find the sport in slaves and saviours

I can’t read with eyes of grain
I can’t draw the dated pane
My limbs belong to Nation Trusts
My child shall have my feet

A Mannish day usurps my bed
As the net that keeps me wed
To depots of deserted paper
And sickened lines of perverse vapour

The printed blue fight to remain
Twenty-four stallions breed to maim
The Court of Mobile states my lust
And treasures it like beets

Berries of the freesome smell
Southtrail deers degrazing hell
I am born to hear the hiss
Of driven serfs endowed with ****

Gratitude is served in rocks
Given life by stale warlocks
Augurs of the larger days
Reducing me to innocence

The Marshall spits a shallow well
Coagulates into a gel
To stress this life, I’d be remiss
And slowly stripped by vicious mist

I should chafe to serve a clock
Which underlines the formless flock
Yet I try to pave my way
To tangible incessance

Vivian Mills, an architect
Loves a state she can’t protect
The walls are hammered willow trees
Mercury arrows, guileless and creased

Edward Crael, a charlatan
Only writes on jars of tin
Where hate is love, rendered stale
And echoes through the past

Lonny Winn, the One Prefect
Cries over a submerged wreck
She feels the transit’s caving knees
And drinks away her soaring pleas

Finnick Gaelan, the Captain
Feels the weight of northern winds
He prays to long for wayward gales
Yet permeates the past
Blade Maiden Aug 2018
Washed up on the shore
of the oceans, your waters inside
I left an armada of paper boats
folded from all the letters I wrote to you
In my mind, in my mind
For you to never find
For my pride to unwind
For love to be kind

I flew across a mountain high
The edges of your mind
And shed the feathers from my sacrificial bird
in hopes you'd make a pillow to rest your head
On my thigh, on my thigh
For you to be nigh
For my lips to gift you a relieved sigh
For love to get by

I sat underneath the tallest tree
the growth of me and you
and tried to capture the play of light and shadow on photographs
in an attempt to keep all memories safe for your return
To my side, to my side
For you to let your insecurities hide
For my arms to be open wide
For love to abide
quiel Aug 2018
a sinking feeling
i watch the leaves fall
through my window pane
the leaves glide gracefully in the wind
dancing in the air, the seasons have changed
we long to embark on a celestial voyage
twisting in space,
lying beside comets and stardust
unbound by gravity,
the leaves fall.
(out of all that lies beyond space, i sit beside you as it rains)
Vallery Jun 2018
As I sail the ocean blue fighting against the monstrous waves, I pray to God begging Him to bring me safely to shore. To perish and be buried at sea in a watery grave does not indulge me, but rather frightens me. I am not one who enjoys the sea, nay, the land is what I favor. Aye, there be where life itself resides, where true love rents a room and where true adventure drunkenly wanders the streets. Around every corner lies a new journey, a new face, a new story, but only if you are willing to find it.
      The waves strike the side of the vessel. The ship creaks and moans. I fix the sails to head northbound. The rain falls steadily against my skin, mixing with the sweat on my forehead. I desperately want to give in, to let the sea carry me where she wants instead of fighting with her. But I know when I reach land I will be rewarded with new life...
     Thunder crashes and lightning strikes above me. I crumble to the floor, cowering from fear. Lo! I must press on. Fear is a stowaway on this voyage, one I could not seem to toss off the side of the boat. He is like a shadow, only he is a constant, not fading in the darkness but rather thriving in it. I remain on the floor. I cry out to God, I cry out above the roaring waves, "take me as I am, take me as the coward I am!"
     The sea, she hungers for more victims. And me, I hunger for death. I hunger for the sweet release of this body I possess. Why, oh why have you abandoned me, God?! Why have you left me here to drown?! I beg you to take me now!
     Alas, silence from God but not the sea. She still roars, almost as if she's calling out to me... Calling out to me, telling me to jump... Dare I?
     The thought of jumping chokes me. Dare I drown this misery?
     Dare I die the way I am most terrified to die?

    I dare
Sam Jun 2018
We voyaged with contented vigour,
not a second glimpse to the blackened moon.
Bodies numb, fallen stiff to the chill
beneath dim urbanity -
only the warmth of us
thawing glacial palms.

Fractured hearts ruminate,
filling scars where voids once evident.
Further the night wandered,
I embark its goading path -
tantalised in speech
from such copper-buttoned eyes;
steeped with stories
of a past torn from its flesh
and dressed to resemble me.

Our ghosts confide,
beckoned forth in rich exchange;
the currency of gilded tongues.
Stitched as testament to brick fabric,
where apparitions tucked rest;
those musty Shoreditch steps.
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
A time break,  
Mellow moment  
Fragrance of air,  
Warm candles  
Silent glances,  
Hold the breath  
Change the pitch  
Nothing to say  
An iconic fantasy  
An inch proximity    
Extra beats,  
A high spirit    
Directed path  
Voyage to start  
Destination, to be,  
A Theme park.    
A naive Goosebumps,  
Plz,“do not disturb”.  
We don’t exist.
Shared from my Anthology, Canvas: Echoes and Reflections.
John Alex Feb 2018
Keep your car keys, love
'Cause we won't be using wheels
We will be dreaming
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