#idunno
What was that about ironic?
(sonnet #MMMMDCXLII)
They swore I should be published when my frail
Attempts proved that my alphabet was thence
Down pat, a couple verbs and nouns from whence
I made a twisted bit of nonsense, pale
And certain notes that I owned more than bail
For their now wasted cries of sheer pretense,
Nor would they quiet down 'til their defense
Was trounced when I could speak and **** the tale.
Yes. Now that I trip off much less obscure
Lines, even sentences which march straight to
The point, I've lost my following as twere.
Come, did they like the early babble? Few
Can make it past the toddling stage, whence fer
The grand achievement, I'm alone. Boohoo.
(sonnet #MMMMDCXLIII)
Please don't say either that I was from hence
Givn this quite fair, though transient gift's detail
To hone its more exquisite sense in pale
Excuse for being alone, nor that twas thence
Deemed fit cuz twould be yet destroyed (whose sense
Of worth was fragile in sheer truth's betrayl),
But grant me something more, as if for bail,
And say that love will pay for my intents.
Walk through the library amassed as twere;
Yea, listen as my spirit filters through
The tapestry of lines, until in poor
Reply its voice half alters subtly too.
Did I leave innocence behind? Twas your
Fault who taught me what life is: loving you.
06Mar15e,f
Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 9:14 PM UTC
sigh a day later, when Saturday's mad pile of work was a memory, it literally tasted like water. Now, how did that happen?
(sonnet #MMMMDCXLIV)
Mists waft with curious fragrance' odd detail
Upon the creamy surface of those scents'
Brown claim of coffee in my mug, to fence
Thin hope with old chagrin as morning's pale
Light watches from its cloudy vantage' scale
Of truth, where ghostly layers shift oer pretense
And grey asks white to call it blue from thence,
My breakfast: ***** dishes 'hind th'exhale.
It's nat'nal cereal day, so in a poor
Excuse I added Malt-O-Meal to do
The favours with our wonted pancakes, fer
A whopping stack of edibles. Yes, two
Eggs, bacon, and a touch of fruit. If you're
Still hungry, there's no coffee. I love you.
07Mar15a
Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 9:10 PM UTC
He said I'm a good kisser. ducks head
(sonnet #MMMMMMDI)
His. O, I wanted Joe to call me his, in pale
Excuse, and yes, to call him MINE. What hence?
But lo, I am. He's like a dream come true, a sense
Of all a girl wants in his sweetness, frail
As fancies ever were. Why, in betrayl?
To top it off, yes...what? but kissing thence
Is nat'ral, being in his arms like ah, whence?
Two puzzle pieces fitting in detail.
If I said "he is home to me as twere,"
Would all I've tasted then dissolve unto
Some naked shore the waves crash into fer
An endless washing of all that we knew?
He sez that love (in all caps) is too poor.
My legs and lips are what he wants. What's new?
16Jul17a
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 9:50 PM UTC
Watching anime again lately, the teeny-boppers eagerly asking each other for "contact info" I now think to want that, but it'd do no good since I never call guys.
(sonnet #MMMMMMCCCCXVI)
Not gloaming, but a fragile note that sense
Culls as the maples' silent leaves shift, pale
Light on the waning, and blue's soft detail
Is clouds 'non painted to effect that hence.
Lo, green by dint of shadows deepens, whence
This calm that tiptoes 'cross the moor t'avail
Knows aye, the hollows are alive to scale,
Nor frogs asleep now nightfall beckons thence.
I wonder if Joe thinks of me as twere,
Or whether dreams are mine alone tae stew
Oer, who 'non miss those eyes sunglasses' poor
Blind's kept me from enjoying two weeks now too
Erm, many. I'll just wait, and pray. Assure
Me nothing. He is moving fast thinks who?!
16Jun17b
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 12:08 PM UTC
When the butterfly has flown the lily graced flower
That has been the family home for generations upon generations,
Whose petals have protected against mites for decades;
When she has left with no intention of looking back over one jaded ruby wing
To reminisce upon all she's leaving behind
Between the silken walls of her childhood home;
That's when the community begins to judge her.
Scarlet wings gallantly breezing through the air with nary an effort, she glides above the rest, destination unknown.
Laughs, sneers, jeers, and scorn rise from the ground below her gravitating form like smoke from a house fire.
~She's afraid of her past.
~Her family must have disowned her.
~It's her own fault, anyways.
High above them, she still hears everything, but pretends not to. After all, life will soon be her oyster, far away from this place.
Far away from the crowds of rude sociality that insist upon knowing every last detail about her life and pursuits, morphing her most sacred details into gossip fit for the common lunch table at the Meadowlands Cafe.
Far away from the friends who helped her grow until she realized her wings were too large and beautiful to hide or fit within the confines of this dulling, lifeless community.
And far, far, far away from the smoldering smoke that emanated from the last tulip at the Far East side of the community, the burning of leaf and petal that had prompted her leaving once and for all.
Scarlet like her wings, her past has gone up in flames. Soon, the butterfly is past the scorning and pointing of fingers and into the wild unknown. Only here does she bite her lip and look back, against her better judgement. And then she smiles.
All that's left of her past is a cloud of bad memories mixed with the haze of gossip and the smoke from a home that never felt like it was her own.
So she pushed on. Scarlet flutters through turquoise until she disappears, a red blob on the hazy horizon.
She has overcome. And she is free.
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 7:21 AM UTC
I'm the friction between your silk sheets
and the picture you hang on your eyelids
I'm the breath that fogs up your bathroom mirror
and the life that you left behind
I'm all the wonders that you bury
beneath you bed to rust along with
the tired Narnian lions
and Middle Earth'bound hobbits
All your fairy tales are over
and as you descend over her
for the final time
and are close- so close-
You realize
Your fairytale
is coming
to an end
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 8:17 AM UTC
If you loved the thought of me as much as you love the air you breathe
with the passion of a hundred lights of night fire
with the greenness of a parlor fireplace
If you waited for what is clearly yours within the skin that traps me
with the tenacity of a tigerlily
and the brutality of a butterfly
If you wanted what lies beneath the cold hard marbles beneath my eyelids
with shyness befitting a lion
and coldness that wisps from deep within the earth
If you did
why are you
so far
away
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 8:28 AM UTC
~Friends are like a family
So don't tell me to take our problems ever so lightly ~
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 10:00 AM UTC
~ You're the living breathing soul of my every word ~ ♡
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 9:20 AM UTC
I guess some people
has to put up a front
that is hard to smash
but is known to a few
They are those
who has experience on the stage
and can manipulate
you into thinking
of what he wants you to think
but never the truth
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 3:07 AM UTC
It's hard to breathe
And weird to touch
I was acting so normal
And I was thinking too much
Trying hard
To figure out
Moving onward
Engulfed in doubt
Don't look back
Too much pain
And in fact
Nothing to gain
Filled with knots
Wasted time
I got a penny for my thoughts
When I deserved a dime
Who's to say what's true
I never said I was right
Guess I never knew
It's not worth the fight
Thinking about before
Don't know who I was
Could have closed the door
And never been an "us"
Said you would stay
Promised you could
Chose to walk away
I knew you would
Everything was fine
Said we'd never part
Knew it was a line
But gave you my heart
I'll take the blame
I've always known
I played your game
You lost alone
I know you know
There's more to give
You were a stepping stone
I have a life to live
Hard to love
Weird to trust
Acting typical
Think it was lust
You told me to be strong,
Then you left
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 10:32 AM UTC