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Lying there lifeless

pretending...

Pretending to be asleep
the gray ceiling drips onto my face
with each passing second the
room gets smaller and
hotter

Smothered by restlessness
suffocated by longing
I sigh a heavy sigh
expelling another moment from my muddled life
debating on whether I should get up or not:

     The effort of pulling off the iron covers
     the indecision, the fear
     afraid of being caught


Sneaking out to do naughty things?
                  I think not.
Something I shouldn't be doing?
                     Hardly.


Taking slow strides across the room
my eyes adjust
just enough
to bring forth indistinguishable shapes
I rely only on the silent energy
that the darkness emits
my ears pivot to pick up the blackness' ululating drone
I tune into its mystic frequency
abandoning all mixed signals that came about today

The slits of oceanic blue light
slather the window's opposing wall
an illuminescence too scarce to peg the door's frame

I twist the cold brass **** until I hear the click of metal

Tip - toe - ing . . .
through the never-ending runway-hallway that seems to  

S T    R       E          C            H        o  n   f    o     r        M  I       L           E                  S 

strafing crucified
agaist the wall
still hitting every
creak I had been aiming to miss

Descending down
the steps
I reach the
Flat 
one more step down and my excitement rises

I glide across wooden floors
stirring up invisible dust...
I am the lazy particles that float in the air
minus the fanned out beams of sunlight
shining through cracked blinds
to scream out my presence
and fuel my pestiness

Finally I am close
close enough to breathe steam on the storm door
remove the stick

push up the lock

pull. slide. open.

Ahhhh
The cold air knocks the wind into me

My first barefoot step is into a pool of icewater
turning to close the door I enter hypothermia
my body crystalizes, cracks, shatters, and re-crystalizes again
sitting down on the step I become inorganic

I tilt my empty heavy head up to the heavanly sky,
howling my thoughts to our silver satellite

I try to find comfort from afar - comfort my bed alone could not supply
my insides evaporate from my
frozen skin and
disperse into the air
my particles grow incandescent wings
the kind that effortlessly ***** and flutters

My molecules are ****** up towards the sky
they leave me behind to join the stars
I welcome their departure and wave goodbye
I hope when they return they bring back good tidings

Now that my insides are gone, my particles adrift,
My frozen-solid body is hollow
and so, a weight is lifted
(even if only temporarily,
the numbness is temporary)

Still gazing at the infinite clusters of stars like
woven celestial patchwork
littered across infinite black plains
I feel content admiring the lone stars
adventurous and brave as they come

    Feeling like those lone stars,
    trying to find my place
    I snuck out to my backyard

All I needed was some space
Winter Jan 2021
At the top of the world
my inferno swells
consuming
the masquerade
of my blood heart
once, founded upon red mountain
I lost myself
in billows of black,
my sordid hands
slipped
through the sands of time-
a pyramid of translucent rage
within
my whimsical mind
pathed an oblivion
spiraling
down
to the depths of the sea.

There my soul awaits
slain,
encapsulated by
ice and a curse-
forever, he writhes trapped
in shards
of tormented black
glass
they cut
cut
cut
his frosted wings dead
eaten alive
by
living sea bed
yet
the shadow of his touch
still
crystalizes
my fear.

Then alone
we atone

so emboldened
his & my
****** & pulse
wrapped in rebirth
we rise
to blinding lights
longing
to taste
world's end-
before our
blank
utopia
begins
with song
in C-minor.


Jennifer Alé
spoken word poetry
Brycical Jan 2012
some view storms
as clichéd expressions
related to the overwhelming
events of each individual droplet
shattering the serenity of our perception
& flooding our thoughts-
almost drowning our minds
in tumultuous anxiety.

i prefer to see storms
as a cleansing experience-
washing away those thoughts
& events no longer needed
within our subconscience
into a swirling, roaring
whirling and bubbling
muddy puddle...
down an infinite drain,
where the caked dirt dries--
crystalizes
into a lesson in humility,
& letting go....
F White Dec 2010
Jag
there's a
storm out
there inside
here too.
but mine
doesn't melt
on my cheeks
when they are
warm.
it crystalizes
in my chest cavity
poking up
painfully when
I'm scared and
trying to breathe in.
and when I turn
out the lights
and try and pull
my security around
my body
the wind howls
reminding me
that even if I
shut the windows
I can still feel
the burn
of air coming in
on the tiny rips
in the sides
of my shield.
Copyright FHW, 2010
There is a tempest
In the Temple of tonight

All of my values , morals
Are shaking cold from fright

There is a reason now
For all of my due fear

When red is the color
It has turned from water clear

There is red blood from the innocent
Caking on my fingers from their souls

They have been taken in their silence
Their blood has been dried by the cold

In the darkest of the winter
My seed willingly spills

Sickening sweet the cost
Of such a cheapening thrill

It crystalizes screaming
Without making a sound

Upon the snow white flakes
Of the frozen ground

You shuddered when caked
And cold ****** fingers

Stopped to caress your silken breast
Where upon they linger

I briefly touch with the back of my hand
Your perfect cheek that flowers this land

I turn to see a nor by norwestern star
It's my place , my home so far

Then into the blackness
where none of the living dare goes

Love takes a walk with me
Until it's suddlenly froze
Dedicated to Eridamus , the river conttellation .
Home of my star Cursa
Ken Pepiton Jan 27
Too much for hello poetry, but,
you know, they said that about
telegraphy when it was dots and dashes,

as far as
mindshare traded for money,

we, as essentially merest of things,
we, mere words, made of logos,
logic demands we feel
well balanced before
we for get we knew
once, this whole
truth, certainly enough,
that we'd dare to swear,
to tell as much as we have
being behaviours preset to reset…

this ties to the morphic resonant
evidence of radio spectrum light

sensitivity that may corelate with peanut
allergies, gees, that serious as Enheduanna
wanting credit for instituting memorium rocks
- instant reco-knowing
see, that rock, from here,
me with these keys that stutter, amusingly,
we all made fun of Alfalfa, then he became,

Bill Gates, or
Elon Musk, then Babe Ruth and Orson Welles
morph into Donald Trump,
so we call the peacemakers,
the way fires call beetles to LA,

we all be kinda dazed California Dreamin'
neighbor lady baked me brownies,
I drove her kid to school.

Then got the call to think a difference
a corpus colostrum substance, hold back
inhibit random willful interpretations, holy

situations, serious gnoshit glossalial evincing
convincing evidence of interference,
signal sent cannot be left true,
confidential fidelity calls it
true faith, and we can't
believe that, no choice.

Eh, archeons,

all the therapists

involved
in solving this puzzle
of us needing
to feel involved, touching something realizable,

other than this one life,
in this one mind, ready
reading we write our own stories, readers ready,

granted wishes, wishing we had mutual mind sieves,
to sort first intention
from popular mention contention,

as we may have stretched our point, as we recombine,
mine and thine, as reasons resonating vibes changing,
even
at the end
of the chip based assisting intelligence,
- as soon as one child could
- they all could, time and again

at least five years
after Tinker Toys could model
at least one archetype self bit
of DNA,
in true faith

that this could be that bending
in realification, when all is
in as if it could be so mode.

And we form the double mind
at the basest point,
whence we spin
a storied yarn
on a rainy day, long after
we had electricity, we still loved

to tell this one
old old story, that can take us back
to Adam,
on Cain's line,
through a half dozen
of his sisters's lines.

What are Mormons for, if not good Archeology?
Ancestry.com can share enough evidence
to belie the size
of battles, but not deny
there were trying spirits, bending rules

tools adapted
to a use, an easy way, done once,
with a twist, snap, think a finger noise, oh, yeah,

that's the spot.

Ought we stop, we may, we have all day, it's snowing.

But maybe HelloPoetry.communicate, any way.
A little bit of possible is all we gotta pay.
Just an incidence during my recent novelization...
Brooke Davis Sep 2017
Just how did she know that you were back in town?

and how did she know to call you when she was down?

Why were you with her, when you should have been with me?

•••••

Its cold when your lying alone in bed at 10 pm
wishing he were there.

And even chillier when you find out

later

that he was with his ex the same night.

•••••

There are ice shards stabbing my fingertips,
when I touch his side of the bed.

I just roll over,
release a shiver

and pull the covers
to my chin,

as my eyelids freeze shut
and my breath crystalizes
as I settle into
our empty nest.
James M Vines Jul 2017
Patients and time with caring and understanding, slowly the thing crystalizes. Taking form under pressure and anticipation, it grows . Some Gems form quicker than others, but the rarest ones may take a lifetime. A Jewel called love is a precious stone indeed and is not easily found and once obtained is fiercely guarded against any who might want to steal it away.
Courtney O Dec 2018
Everything crystalizes
on me
It leaves a sour taste
after all I've lived

And little questions, little feels
that really meant nothing
Crystalize like you hadn't seen any of it
You keep analyzing - as you always do
But the chills he sent you
those were real, those were good

— The End —