Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Daniel Long Dec 2018
Frailly erected upon two twigs
within the hallowing walls of the dusking sun beam,
I’m encircled by the furious winds of a ******’s no-mans-land.

This land encompassing me
is one violated by its own submission
into vision-less ignorance.

I stand here,
the temptation to reach through;
exposing myself into the obscurities around me.

Is it within this light that I am being misguided?
Is it the world beyond holding the truth
from which has deceived me time and again?

There’s only one way to find my path,
be it dark and unkind, I must step out of my life
into the world that whirls in frightening speed around me.

I gaze through the purifying threshold
feeling the eyes of the nocturnal creatures
piercing from far beyond.

They know me;
they see me,
fearing what they don’t understand.

This world is too small,
I walk amongst the folks I coexist
within these cruel existences.

I gasp… my skin tightens…
I take one last look up into my dusking sun;
“I wonder how you shine in the world beyond!”
A poem about schizophrenia
Helen Aug 2012
busking to the outer hands
grasping for a taste of life
reaching for a soft thigh
breathing in the scent
upon a sigh

I sing the song of the outcast
the borderlands stand foreign
against all thought
and the ruling emotion
is
pure
emotion
a guttural cry is last
next to our swaying motion

darker than the twilight
throatier than a growl
to come apart in the moonlight
without running a foul
of crossing from the sunlight
to the darker plains of pain
the borderlands are not for the weak
or those starved of the rain

the dryness is oppressive
the darkness is aggressive
dusking in the borderland
leaves one crooning
to the old world muse
with a fragility
that is impressive

so they sit upon the crossroads
listening to the songs of desire
and watch the sun set
but left an empty shell
because they refused
to be consumed
by the fire
for those of us that have crossed the borderlands and survived to arise from the fire and became.... more ;-)
aster Jan 2019
With the dusking
the vast sky was blue,
bright, warm and lovely....


But as time ticked
it turned yellow-
dark, cold.
It woke the poet in me,
it got me untangled
from my daily sorrows
into an emotional mess
of never ending questions
and contemplations.


And then it turns orange,
like the amber,
there is passion,
there is rage,
and there is love-
it's strong...


but it gets darker,
colder.
And then turns red,
it turns evil,
full of vengeance in its heart,
it motivates me,
it makes me sick,
tired,
but still inspires to
keep pushing myself....


Now it's purple,
mysterious,
curious
and cold.


is this how life is?


I don’t know.


But then it's all black.

It's the same soul,
only it's physical embodiments
differ with time.


All those emotions lie with in you.
You are your
source of
joy,
sorrow,
anger,
vengeance,
despise,
love,
peace.


close your eyes.


ssh...
feel the silence
feel the coldness
feel the darkness
and open them,
it's bright blue again!!

That's how life is.
It's dusked.
life is colorful.
old willow Oct 2021
Trouble, good o’ friend;
Have you come to visit me once again?
I passed the streets, walking through paved stones;
Looking through stalls as people dance.
Like dusking eve, blown where life shown;
In solitude, in dismay, I am not at home.
For who have you come for, if not my lone heart?
The clouds downpour, life is like a dart.
People drift along like dripping blood;
I find blood easy to dry, yet a longevity of stain.
Smear myself in cold blood, my attire continues changing.
If only, if that, if then, good o’ friend;
Must you only live by if?
Valsa George May 2016
Far away, over the monstrous gray summits
As dusking shadows crept stealthily on,
When night had turned stygian
And glow worms had begun throwing flickers of light
Like sequins stitched onto a flowing velvet gown,

When night sky had thus turned
Into a rare configuration of light and shade
When in the west was burning a solitary star
And like a one man army, it valiantly blocked
The advance of infiltrating clouds,

When fledglings cuddled for warmth
Under their mother’s flayed wings
When cicadas were chanting their litany in shrill monotone,
When the breeze whispered sweet nothings in my ear
And autumn leaves in strong gale
Flew about and nosedived into their ebony bed,

When my conscious thoughts evaporated
And I was left to linger in a semi stupor,
I knew a familiar spirit visiting me unsought
With the passion of a lover eager to subdue;
Morpheus with the scent of poppy leaves all about him
      To lure my soul to bliss and chill the heat of weary toil
      By the indulgent grip of his masculine hands

He took me on his wings to uncharted oceans and fairy isles
And finally to his secret chamber for a date
Making me swoon in secreted ecstasy!
I sang a song at dusking time
Beneath the evening star,
And Terence left his latest rhyme
To answer from afar.

Pierrot laid down his lute to weep,
And sighed, “She sings for me,”
But Colin slept a careless sleep
Beneath an apple tree.
Adriana Makenna Feb 2021
Wrought-wide eyes from catching clouds on the safety of our backs
Who's lifting who dried-up with the fossils, tucked away at Jack's
Can you capture the oily maze of Perla, Gary, Glen AND Dee?
We should cap the treasure trove. Just one shell. Alright... three.

Passenger mats drowned long ago in quartets of sandy shoes
They're coming around to dukkah, but beetroot's an ongoing feud.
We'll find our way back to purple-brown after art class in year nine
Until then just squeeze my hand when they see "****" every time.

Curse words stowed beneath our necks, cellared with the red wine.
Pull binoculars out in twenty years to seek parrots in sun spines.
Trick them into dusking walks, the promise of ice cream at Kateri
Squealing across Eileen's golden grain, I hope they pick Rasberry.

He swirls the sand beneath him and burrows his sweet brow.
She builds bridges for fairies and writes names in stick-crayon.
I'll say they're just like us, one day when they can stand it least
Until then their just like you dreamboat, floating down my east.
Four you.
I sat this evening
there beneath the swallowing trees
adjacent to the immortal stumps.
I sat
and thought.
Nothing new. Don't die.
Relax. Persevere *******!

And I happened to believe myself.
"He's wise sometimes," I said.
The passers passed me by,
averting their curious little beady eyes,
purposefully blindsiding the phantasmic figure
curled up pensively. They rush by.
I eat the dusking sky
and the squirrels and placid spiders
night down within the knowing trees.

Peaceingly, the twilight dawns anew.
Unsteady, I stride toward clumping moths with
wishful confidence. Meaning only words,
the gentle enfolding blacks behind
and the lighted moths bat my lashes
as I reach incandescent optimism.
"Well, we'll see," says he.
skyblueandblack Jan 2015
A girl once wandered along a field of flowers, feet bare
Carefree and unafraid of what she might encounter there

She knew the thorns she removed from her staunch heart
were the launching point, from the point of depart

With the promises that come with the freedom of wings
that portend magical Hope and other beautiful things.

She stopped in the midst of flowers abounding
held out her arms to soak in the sun’s rays astounding

Her head raised high, her eyes serenely closed
no more tranquil an image could have been posed.



Soon thereafter, a feather from the heavens fell
suddenly appearing, as if cast from a spell

It gently danced and glided, sought out her hand
as if searching for a place to land

A feather of the most vibrant hues
like the flowers; reds, yellows, greens and blues.

No sooner had the feather ended its flight
there followed a most ethereal sight .

It was the most exquisite bird,
and suddenly,
something within the girl’s staunch heart stirred.



On her outstretched hand, the bird gracefully landed,
peered into her soul, her attention it commanded.

Resplendent and fine, its feathers in all those dazzling hues
like the flowers; reds, yellows, greens and blues.

She could not help but caress those fine feathers,
as she stood amidst the irises and the heathers.

The bird sang a melody so sanguine and so sweet
only briefly it lingered in sorrow,
a song reminiscent of times long past,
and a subtle promise of tomorrow.



As the bird then moved to the palm of her hand
its beauty, a stunning mesmerization;
the awareness that it may soon fly away
was a sudden and terrifying realization.

She held it with care, grateful for each moment
treasuring each offering like a gift from a lover
Is your heart here to stay, she wanted to ask,
or does it belong to another?

You are not from this place, she thought to herself
You belong in paradise, your heavenly abode
Are you visiting, dear wanderer? Or lost, searching for home?
Still pursuing a path along your designated road?

How easy it would be to close that hand
hold the exquisite bird there forever..
It would sing to her every day,
A bond that would not sever.

But love is not of a forced possession
In her being, this she knew.
That vibrant light would surely dim
There would be no more vibrant hue



And so she wandered on in the field of flowers,
towards the blazing horizon of the dusking sky.
The majestic bird perched upon her open hand
as it sang the songs of days gone by.

Fear remains, along with many thoughts awoken
they set behind the fiery orange-crimson sun,
they hide behind fragile promises spoken,
and gold-gilded intentions begun.

Twilight descends, infused with the disquiet dark brings
accentuated by the stillness of night..
‘but the morning brings strength to her restless wings*’
and Hope, emerges with the Light.
“Behind the blood-stained curtains of Love,
there are fields of flowers where lovers wander...
To wander in the fields of flowers, pull the thorns from your heart.”
~ Rumi
http://skyblueandblack.com/2014/04/09/wanderers-in-a-field-of-flowers/
*Jackson Browne
Chris Chaffin Jan 2021
His whistling rises with the moon;
softened trills and murmurings
grow louder in the dusking sky,

drift across my ceiling, down
into my waiting ears.

A halo of satisfaction rings his face,
sweat drying on his chest
as he leans back upon my balcony.

I gather his things
and place them by the door.
I know this tune is not meant for me.

But I listen to it, still,
and dream of my hands
tangled in his soft feathers.

Who will sing me to sleep
when the nightingale is paired?
Janette Aug 2012
I inhaled your soul
Sealing it within my heart...




The deepest breath of dusking light
Casts jade upon sienna;
Somewhere..
Somewhere in the stillness,
Comes soft, the echo
Of empowered flight...



Waiting on a raft of cloud
She waits to breathe again...



Her lips retain the memory of a kiss;
Embrace, a warm ghost
Upon satin skin....
And time stands still,
For tender shadows paint
Pearls upon a necklace of hope...



Her wishes cast upon the gateway
A prayer mat where she kneels,
Beacons of an endless shore;
A portal in rippled time,
The bridge awaits.....forever...



She feels the dream as living flesh,
Crested in the stillness
Where the clock chimes rhythm
Against his velvet bed, her heart lies here
Balanced by his breath,
And distance tumbles over wet colours,
Like mauve kisses
Along the soles of an eventual sunrise...



In the harbour of my soul you have always been there
Afloat in the silent breezes of my dreams.......
A soul mate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks. When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be loved for who we are and not for whom we’re pretending to be. Each unveils the best part of the other. No matter what else goes wrong around us, with that one person we’re safe in our own paradise. Our soul mate is someone who shares our deepest longings, our sense of direction. When we’re two balloons, and together our direction is up, chances are we’ve found the right person. Our soul mate is the one who makes life come to life....Richard Bach ~
Shilpa Harilal Aug 2020
A black dot at a distance, going up and down with the waves
appearing and disappearing, in the dancing rays;

I lie at the seashore, with my darkly tinted glasses on;
shaded by the brightly coloured umbrella above

Basking in the cool shade, and loving the fresh air
I see the black dot; such tininess, against the blue backdrop

Huge ships and jet boats, swoosh the waters;
creating white rush; glamorous, in the mid-afternoon spell

Time ticked off its way to dusk; growing the dot;
giving it body and life; and before I knew more,

Men with galloping energy, stood there at the shore;
Their muscle flexed and zeal pulsated through the air

I searched for the disappearing dot through my tinted eyes;
emptiness of the sea, stared back, from the dusking sky

As the crowd swallowed me to follow the thrilled voices,
of the rugged men of the sea, standing tall, on their fishing boat

I stood there; a disappearing dot in the crowd;
discerning more than my tinted eyes could see.
'Everybody is genius, but if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid' - Albert Einstein
Ryan P Kinney Jan 2016
by Ryan P. Kinney and Dawn Richardson

Created from prompts by J.M. Romig, Dawn Richardson, and Ryan P. Kinney

She loves him like a fire,
Enveloping, holding, and caressing the wood,
While slowly consuming every part of him

Shaking off clothes like the leaves in autumn
Their bodies exposed,
Changing from a wan pallor
To a flushed crimson hue

Their bodies burn,
Breathe drifts like smoke into the skyline
The mountains **** their horizons

The dragon flies and dragonflies in the dusking night
The snow blanketed world deadens the sound of his beating heart
Her tide slowly recedes into him
The delicate wax of his heart melts under her fury
She swallows his cries

Babies sleep soundly


Created at the Winter Writing Workshop (Dec. 27, 2015),
HEYMAN! Productions
Smit Nov 2015
Nature's Princess

Sleeping Behind The Roaring Redwood
Seeing The White Hare Sparkling In Its Naturehood

Laughing With The Solitude Wind That Howls By;
Starring At Dancing Butterfly Who Never Get Shy

See  The Creeps Are Smiling
By Seeing The Deer Crying

Are'nt You Getting Bored Dear Squirrel? But Don't Worry; The Nature's Dusk Is Quite Far From Funeral

Hey Look! The Earthworm Is Pootling Near My Feet
But Oh Poor! Baby Tortoise Is Already Behind It

Thankyou Little Cuckoo! For Melodies So Sweet!
And The Dusking Fireflies Letting The Earth Lit

With Such A Wonderful Heaven!
Counting Happiness On Fingers At More Than Eleven!
It's Me Who Lives Better Life Than You
The Nature's Princess! You'll Get Few!
six pm Mar 2021
⊹    
  * ·      · ˚ ✷.
                                ⁕                             ­ ­                                                               ­  ­                    *                               ⊹
 
· ⊹                                               * ·      · ˚
  ✧
⁕                                                              ­  ­                                                              ­   ­        ⁞

for you i am a tequila sunrise;
for you i am heartbeat panging
through the pages
of schoolgirl crush notebook.
kissing crux of neck bone crest collar,
soft and warm as morning bread.
                                                      .   ­                              •
                            .
                                 ­                 ⁕
you are at least 6′ tall.
i blink.
     .                    *          i am sure.                                    ⊹

   .     ⨀              i say: starlight you are sunshine    ✧                .
   and i love you like buttercups.
i write you sonnets and give you heartbeat
✧             gift wrapped in its parchment.            
            .                             ­        .                        
                               ­    ⋆
                                                              
­you grow 10′ taller.
you are menace and
i am mouse.

i tell you i am falling from your eyelash.
*     you grow larger. 20′ tall now.      
.        •·            13 miles you crest everest.           ⋱        .
i go to hold your hand
but i’m a lonely golden pebble.
                   you ask the clouds a favor;                
to blow their wind and push you away.
                                   .                     º            
                                                              ­
­                             ⊹
you are leaving.
i will stay.
i tell you i need you.
  i feel nothing.  ·•
⁖   •․    i am in the stratosphere; floating        *   .
i am a helium balloon
and you are shrinking.
                               º
                                                            
⋆ ­             you are dusking sunset             .
.    through bleary eye slits      .
and it is getting cold here.
⋰        star sparkle my vision sun sinking            .
º        backlit dropping…      
⊹                  .                             ­                                   ­
  ◐  •             you are              · ˚ ✷.

… my lover?    ⊹

· ˚ ⊹.      you are           ·  º

˚ ⁕      …my height now.       ·•      

no.
you are smaller.
  ✧                 you are sprawling pacific ocean.                   *
whole life ahead of you.

             ∶
⊹    
  * ·      · ˚ ✷.              .
                                               ­      º
i am drifting alone.
         i still love you.     
·    .             you are orange melodrama, ⊹            .    ·
you are marmalade paintings
on still-life ocean surface.
you are the west
⊹    
  * ·      ·                              ˚ ✷.
                                          ✧                                  ∗
•                                  
                          ­                                             ​.
                                                          · •                .

       *
⁕                                                              ­­     .

               ✧           and i am gone.                         
                           ­                                    ​

•                      ­ ­           
                                                   ­            ­         ​.
∗                                       ­             ­                               ⁕⊹      * ·      · ˚.
  ✧ ∗
•                                  
                          ­                                             ​.

∗              ­ ­                      ⊹    
  * ·      · ˚ ✷.
  ✧                                          ⁕
                    ­­     .                                            

every constellation becomes a new map evolving
and i am only marrow
you can see right through me.
i am an open book and you are diary entry.
∗                            .                            ­        ⊹

                         ­  ⁕

           .                                            •
star­tling the starlings with my stories.
∗i regale earth’s ******* mud, her jewel weeds,

dandelion wish clouds,
and the way you kept together everything.
∗                            .                       ­             ⊹

                         ­  ⁕

           .                                            •
fu­r­loughed like an arrow.
you sentenced me to no-thing.
bone marrow bow flung me
with the bow crafted of my own heart strings.
sorry. i couldn’t make it to the moon by morning.
i hope the darkness wasn’t so bad.
i hope you missed me.  

–six pm | *furloughed
  
   ⁕                                                                ­­                .

                     *

                                                            ∗
­­
                                                               ­ ­               •

        *
⁕                                                   ­­                .

                                             ­­                                                ​



•                                  

                      ­                                         ­         ​.

∗         ­                                          ­                      ­          ⁕⊹      * ·      · ˚.
  ✧ ∗

•                                  
                          ­­                                              ​.

∗             ­ ­                       ⊹    
  * ·      · ˚ ✷.
  ✧                                          ⁕
                    ­­.

∗                                                            ­ ­             

                                                ­  ­             ⁕
A style I've been perfecting since 2016. I love to blend visual art with my poetry.

www.by6pm.art
Caroline Shank May 2021
Long days.  Night slithers through
the door and I reach for you.
I believe in the wisp of
twilight, the smell of dope
and your arm around my
shoulder. The cross we bear.

The map of night is written
and I must go.  Never, the
tears.  I stare at your mouth.
We kiss the chalice of each
others love.  The mass of
yesterday sanctified a long
litany of love unanswered.

I hate the sound of the bells.  
I am brought to my knees. An old woman genuflects, A tear falls.
I confess my sins but never
you.  

You, you belong to the
dusking dreams.  

Caroline Shank
kfaye Mar 2018
glowbird knows ∆ he can make it, but
the sun drips warnings in front of
our reticle eyes   ø
           in the dusking smile
           you throw
it                                                   feels
Matthew Oct 2020
two a.m. on a temperature chilling October morn
sitting in a Lovecraft silence of
beastly creatures
sleeping in the earth
under bed and basement
the earworms dig in
with Steven King ambitions
as my lids slit to stay awake
the draping Wes Craven curtains
part to my next dream sequence
falling into hell's revenge
the Clive Barker pains of
pinhead punishments
feel believingly real
though I'm dead to the world
in a Jordan Peele trance
stiff with only mental movements
at the wheel of a Detroit demon
flaming down the to slow
to get away pedestrians
who's evil doings have done me wrong
I'm alive in the thrill of the ****
to **** without remorse
with Anne Rice stirring arousal
seated shotgun
queening the dammed
the fallen the unbathedsouls
getting bathed in the endless
bloodbath of her draining rein
to empty their cold dying hearts
hopelessly trapped
in her dark minded chronicles
I found was the ending road
with no uturn from the limboed
feasting humanoids
in a Abraham "Bram" Stoker scenario
thirsty to **** the lifeliquid
from limbs and neck-vines
shockingly terrifying me
from my zombie like state
eyes wide open and breathing
in a pandemic like panic
darkened with the next dusking day.
[48] 42.7 "as we both were in paradise, inseparable from one another
[48] 42.8 do not separate us in our death, but place me where you have placed him"

And death shall not separate us.
In shivering youth bowed our hungry love
Enclasped our praying hands through the cold nights;
These pulsing memories far bygone, yet
If sundered, if you lost to one a myriad of stars in the universe,
Across all fateful turbulations and tribulations I'll sail and toil my hankering hands,
To collect your stardust, to bring you back
Then I'll embrace you in great haste; to unhouse thy shroud I raced
To deck thy tombstone unturned
And death shall not separate us

And death shall not separate us
Flowers wave within the giant skeletons embracing one another
A sword into the earth, his armor kneeling, and recitations of verses
By the campfire; under the comets; on the high seas, the man stays silent
The broken knight carries his tired soul and his gothic wings;
Battle never ends, so does his love poetic-prophetic
And death shall not separate us

And death shall not separate us
(O, I am a sufferable rebel, a dying romantist)
Natality mine sinful and bandaged for thy fright
My unchanted dirge for the bohemian innocence and long deployment;
Yet I proclaim nevertheless and claim thy name nonetheless, for
I am a lover of absurdity, a prince of resistance
A phase I need to face with high magnificent disdain;
Between solitude and solicitude, my bilious rage contained
If engulfs thy way a dusking vale of Time
Break branches and hear my echoes of love through and through, my lime
And death shall not separate us

And death shall not separate us
That a timber hitch roped around the mooring stump by the shore
Flares me heavy thy flair philosophy declare on frontière, your fair solitaire
Times foretold the cascades in the cave loud, bold, n' manifold
So, princes of the world! Test my decree: love never fails
Like Adam and Eve
Oceans of Dantesque hands pulling us apart,
but we must beat our oars forward
because death shall not separate us
Dedicated to my love, Jueun Suh
Aryan Srivastava Nov 2020
It's more like the anger,
The sun holds towards the oceans,
******* them dry,
Then slowly giving in.

Flickers of faceting fire,
Burning black the winter snow,
A crimson smelling attire,
Turning blemishes to bluish holes.
Just as the bullet replaced,
The thing beating in the cage,
Just as the blood replaced,
The thing breathing in the dust of age.

It's more like the greed,
A painting holds towards the notes,
What will it not give,
To be heard and written.

Bubbles of darkness at dawn,
Hunting gnats from freezing pyre,
An arrow head in the swarm,
A hum released to inquire,
Then the wind went by,
Snatching courage of bent knees away,
Then the wind went by,
Bursting dawn, dusking the song of prey.

It's more like the sleep
Seconds of seasons grew out of,
Under a canopy of camouflage,
Until it rained for a million years.
Ahmed Hashish Oct 2018
As I refresh up my memory
To remember days in my history
some days arouse my happiness
another some.....fill me with sadness
but while remembering....there is always
a smile…..!!

I remember that day when I was struggling
in this hard cruel world without tiring
Thus...I used to the way of success
just used to it...till it became meaningless
I got almost everything I wished
but still one thing that I missed
till I met her…..!!

Her eyes...her smile...her laughter those I couldn't ignore
when I met her...I never ever felt like that before
she was the one...I had been for so long searching for
finally!!...love & success...never wished for anything more
it seemed like the cheerful world had opened up its door
but not that wide open….!!

She strayed & turned away from my love                    
she said I'm not the man she was dreaming of
she left my heart in a way of fears
she let my eyes in a lake of tears
she burnt my heart with a searing fire
the fire .....of my innocent desire
and tragedy continued….!!

Then the beginning of the worst of the nightmare
Failing...the thing that I never expect or even care
cause it was the last **** thing that I would ware
I was safe on a mountain.... then the sudden fall
absolutely a disaster... the greatest one of all
at that time of my life.... I lost every single goal
that's how life changes….!!

I now believe in an idiom though it seems too blue
that the happy moments in our lives are extremely few
just a few ones....like an early morning leaflet dew
But at least I have one thing left to do
to remember that another dream has gone
Gone away...... like a dusking sun.

— The End —