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Vitæ Jul 5
I am born to the sun
and belong to the night.

Come now starry death
come now earthly mind
Below me a raging river
where fettered feet find
grains of stellar dust
which bind me to the sky.

I am born to the sun
and belong to the night.

Come now galaxy rising
come now howling winds
above me a trail of stars
eyes blinded before blaze
light of a million years
which keeps me in place.

I am born to the sun
and belong to the night.
Captured notes from my dream journal. Stream of consciousness
Poor reaction:
Stipulated by thumbs and notions to excel
Steadied eyes, that keep aims harboring sense?
Of quiet, that looked hard for us, to wish in hell...

Left, do we remember a tears cause?
With the language of frozen thoughts?
Many and metered loyalty's, laws?
That took the obvious to oblivion, for what mocks?

Pyres or piety
The tale I tell, is for the coming and the done
****** to rights, the toil we adjust, we show anxiety...
Is a legend in its own right, risen from the curse, we own

Liberty, is an expensive friend, come to tell us a fortune
Of dignity and callous vice, to share a kept dream of avarice's fit
And final lip of sincerity, that knows where you have been
Acted upon like a thief in the sight, of another, and in whit:

We are that we are...
The poise of destiny to a frightful mind, that keeps charisma
Like a treasure of deliberate calm, when we know passion afar
And ready to strike, nothing but a conversation that is a proven same, somehow sad...

But hating the very roots of opinion, for an art?
Of redoubt in the temptation of cope, to witness a shyness
Forth a remaining tooth of drama and lowly starts
Of nothing at all, but the richness of causes, we have seen come to bless...
Vain enough to look beyond a rainy horizon, hence, could heat even be our savior?
Celestial Sep 2021
I feel an unfamiliar breeze.
Warm and gentle it soothes,
Not only my skin, but mind.

As it swallows my ears,
My thoughts disappear.
Leaving it's bustling song.

Carrying messages of change.
I close my eyes,
To see the growth and welcome it

Almost like breaking an embrace,
The wind moves on.

Feelings linger.
Of prosperity and new beginnings.
I am thankful for it's blessing.

The clarity it bestowed,
Only shows and confirms my path.
Making all things seemingly possible.
Gives me goosebumps to stand on the edge of the water and to feel the sea breeze.
-elixir- Jul 2021
The clouds of the skies
ripped open her agonies
As I patiently observed
her tremendous thunders go unheard
to all.
As she poured her tears
all into the soil's lairs,
once parched.
As the winds blew to soothe
her swollen eyes, in her blues
he stayed.
While she broke down binds
each thunder, the winds
blew through
Her hair as her tears dried
up and sunshine gleamed through
her smile.
He gleamed.
Raven Feels Jun 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, in the middle the summer:]

one day
the twentieth of June knows no shame
comes back every year to call your name
breathes winds repressed in lungs forever
spits storms and yes in the middle the summer

seasons gloom
ashes are doomed
tears are pooled
in silence to float me the fool
dreams to a mercury's foot crumble
to awaken dark on a frowning stumble

a symphonious long
when hands twirl a touch
not you and me
in the song
ever alone crimed
that thing I called a one time
a sixth when parted lines

                                                         ­                                 -------ravenfeels
Ayesha Apr 2021
There is no blade brighter than the wind
No euphony as lucid
as entranced she sways—
No mercy weaved in her delirious wings
nor any dead lands
caked beneath the lambent scales
In serenity she loves, in serenity prays
In turbulence— plays

There is no blood prettier
—still, I sense his finger stir
Yearning for cords
as he climbs up
the old, darkened minaret

I hear them warriors are on their way
Lured to stillness by
an injured dragon they cannot slay
and the rain
beneath her guard
trembles, trembles—

I relish the cold devour of her excited breaths
swirling about like a Koel’s last song
up, up the boy does stumble
up, up the tallest minaret
Which has long ceased to kneel
for the Imam’s groggy knees

The masjid slumbers in arms of the tired town
and warriors appear—
Swords like withering moons,
shields, extinguished suns

And prayer mats are folded
by her vivid claws
As blossoms smile out the yellowed tiles
A lion yells, his deer screams
and one upon another,
the swordsmen fall

But I sense a stirring in him
He plucks the stubborn of his tendons
his fingers— a strange dance
And notes around him
tremble, tremble—
Too young to have learned the words
His lips tear open to birth a laugh
an Adhan of his own

There is no sacrifice like one of the wind
She paints a trench across her
wavering being
and trembles, trembles—

Through the shuddering lips pulled tight
she, into him, flows
like water, like a storm frenzied, she
into him, flows—
There is a stirring in him
As tunes give themselves to the vessels
and vessels, unwilling,
are pulled

I hear it all them
The dragon lured to stillness
by an injured boy she cannot slay
—hear this, too
His being, like baked bread, relaxed
And arrows, his vessels
and tunes— tunes soar about
As the old, proud minaret
is bled to a viscous death

I watch the tunes, they
tremble, tremble—
I wonder where they will go
Perhaps down a Koel’s scratchy throat
or sway by the town’s unmarked grave

Then the folks rise up
and cleanse themselves,
Water up their faces, down the elbows
Coating their necks, and glistening in the hair
A prayer upon prayer
hatching on their tongues
—dried blooms
crusty beneath their feet
and rain, a coward— away

A boy is lost, they say
‘As if vanished,’ they say
but is soon let lost
among the rows of funerals
passing through the town’s dusty days
Mourners, and mourners
— dead upon the shoulders of dying
Death, restless, still
Warriors, warriors no more
and the boy

still sings over that forgotten tower
A dragon whirling within
mimicking our moon-struck Dervishes
—I swear the boy still sings
as he gushes, gushes melodies
with every tremble

an Adhan of his own—
Adhan: Muslims' call to prayer.

(Kind of has the same vibe as Silent rebellion, now that I come to think of it. Well... *shrugs*)
Ellie Taps Mar 2021
Your beauty within wasn’t at all what I expected
The winds blow so freshly cool as the season change once more
The air smells as though the world is anew but within is thunder and rain
Thunder and rain I named the tulips in my room
Darkness a stepping stone into the unknown
Certainty lies in the wind
Hope lies on the floor
The wind blows and hope flies
The motions of life takes on
Beauty within beauty without
Payton Feb 2021
My dear, you sway with the nervous passion of a thousand

Tell my why you are so anxious, when you carry their wishes on
your eyelashes?
This is a pretty thought or a piece of pretty prose rather than poetry. It was written in 2016.
Daisy Ashcroft Feb 2021
I am drifting
A very lonely course.
Winds ever shifting,
My voice continues hoarse.
With the words
I will never say
And the herds
I shepherd every day.
It's time to awaken
But here I lay
Because those winds -
All they do is shift away.
I don't like saying lay instead of lie but it's what rhymes so oh well :)
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