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R J Kapadia Jan 2014
Passion possess my heart,
And uses it as a medium to express talent vicariously through my art
Tell me that went through your head and not over it.
Irritation stems from addressing what should be common wit,
In plain sight is the most cryptic
Screaming messages of promises
For jewels and shiny trinkets resonates empty echoes.
Placing a visual trance,
To distract us from deciphering the obvious.
The sinister behavior make me question the speaker...
Spitting rehearsed speeches,
A trickster preaches change without executing procedures.
This compels me to categorize leaders as day dreamers,
Because dreams only come to sleepers,
In a state of conscious slumber...
I guess we're all the same, difference is I'm quite aware.
Heavy eyeslids and the ceiling have the loneliest affair,
When you are the chosen seeker searching for teachers;
With the wisdom to instill some character in these creatures.
midnight prague Nov 2010
Dust travels in soft tones through your eyeslids
a face of remarkable joy
hidden in between my fragile fingers
lingering waiting for you to hold
come by those old feilds
where the rumors use to grow
and breathe with me
to help me forget everything I now know
in places where we smile
places I never go
I hide it all undreathe conversation
its good conversation though
kristi robertson Sep 2012
Just because you've drifted away in a different way than I doesn't mean there's any difference in our reasons why. So narrow on the straight away,  the normal ones point and say,  "Look at them. How sad. What a waste. Hope they get their lives together one day." So when I saw your too thin frame, eyeslids hung and movements lame, comatose to your own name, I thought "look at her. How sad. How could someone blur so much of their life. What a waste." My face should sting and my ears ring from a slap after a remark like that. Up, fast, and going, not drifting but rowing, still veers as far off straight arrows as down, gone, and not knowing, drifting and still slowing. And would I not be just as got as she if only availability limits were showing. I silence my judgements.I know if it were I, no factor to go and stop me before I die, I'd go down straight up and goodbye. So next time when I look at me in a mirror that reflects what people see I need not think it unlikely if they wonder who rightly they see. Me or she?
susan Apr 2015
a bellows is used to fan the flames
and my eyes follow the sparks
as they circle into the night

the small girl is staring at me
and i give her a wink
but she turns away

a stray dog is sniffing the ground
hoping for any leftover meat
that may have fallen

i turn my head towards laughter
coming from one of the tents
followed by drunken singing

looking back towards the flames
i realize i am alone

the breeze sighing through the trees
makes my eyeslids heavy
and i allow myself to be embraced by sleep

a happy camper.
A W Apr 2018
Falling asleep,
            more like a leep in faith and all that is good.
            A jump into your conscious, praying
             you don't see another monster.
             Another fear behind your closed eyeslids.
             A full, peaceful rest before the haze.
             Dreaming of spirits and emotions holds me awake these past few nights.
             Along with the dread of my real fears like heights, that follow.
              If I wished upon a star, I'm afriad in my sleep the devil will call.
              There is no telling what I will dream of tonight;

Prediction

Fear

Insecurities

Loving memories

Or self hate and destruction.
I couldn't sleep well these past few night.
Moomin Oct 2020
If it were not for darkness
We could not know light
I see tiny flames
Languishing
Like flickering lanterns in little homes
Far away
Nestled on a dark hillside
Until one by one
They go out
And no-one knows where the flame has gone
But the Devil has found time for me
And he tries desperately to break my spirit
With the world at his command
For this world has cold fire
That burns like the ice of Pluto
A Trillion cameras monitor my every flinch
My every tear
Yet they cannot see
And a myriad of microphones listen to my thoughts
But they cannot hear
But you
You can hear me
Draw close to me
Touch my lips
Let me breathe strength into your soul
And I will warm your heart with my hope
And this hope does not lead to disappointment
For I am steadfast
Unmoveable
Like a crag on the mountain
I am on fire
I have seen forever
And touched the day of joy
In the new world to come
It sits carved behind my eyeslids
And safely secured in the synapses of my mind
And in the cold air
In the darkness of despair that surrounds us all
None shall smother me
I am on fire
And my flame will never go out
Satsih Verma May 2017
Standing in the centre of a circle,
trying to reach the periphery.
Was it a mistake―
to exhume the entombed
injury?

The ****** withdrawl
takes you back to brown
earth from the red sea.
How would you receive,
that you don't receive?

Your eyeslids flutter.
Sun will ask you for
shutting the eyes. The
glass breaks in your
globes.

Fibrosis cracks. You are
moving faster now in black rain.
Mark Oct 2019
Let he, whom in my kingdom, read here smart:
Your eyeslids best be closed when near my love;
That she is near, is not for gazer's art;
Except for mine that gaze her there above!
But if believe your love has mine outdone
You've narrowed small our friendship's wary lease
And let the rose between the earth and sun
To where your mateship's worth is worth to cease,
Yet if your cause is merely jealous eyed
How can of man be blamed if acts the brand?
For beauty, tho' is taken, yet have shy'd
Then friend that eye have best in you remand!

Make this exception to our friendship's writ:
I side with beauty, yours has yet been lit!

— The End —