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CL Fjell Feb 10
I still see your deep blue eyes
Behind the glaze
Yet when they gaze
I sit in full amaze
Emotionless you stare
As if without a care

Like glowing torches
Your eyes burn through me
Is it me you're looking at
Or the me I used to be

I still see your deep blue eyes
Behind the glaze.
The Napkin Poet Dec 2016
Moisture permeates the air, a wet haze.
Stillness with anticipation, or tension.
Fresh air containing an aroma.
Natural and earthly,
Like giving into original temptation.

Through the fog she awaits my consumption.
Her taste lovely, like if love had a flavor.
An oozing box of sweet glaze, stands within a wet haze.
carminayasmin Apr 2018
I listen to them as they mouth your name;
and I see
how deluded,
how hypnotic,
how enchanted and consumed
they talk of your ways and,
how the stars in their pupils beam with a radiance of such pure awe.
Your words hang loose off the tops of their tounges and their lips drool in your glaze.
Your lazy features,  your so electric but so infuriating charm -
sends them mindless, locks them in your illusion.


So it’s then

I try to burn every
sheet of paper which ink prints your presence,
inside these desperate  shelves which fold upon each heartstring.

My ears attempt to block it out.
Instead they replay every song
that has ever left your lips.
And my eyes deceive me as they scatter
a particle of you on every surface of life I encounter.

My mind echoes every laugh you created in my streams.

Then I paint every colour you ever erupted within me,
in thick black.

As they mouth your name,
every trace of you with anyone but me,
causes my hands to pull through my gut,
and hammer down any of these ******* deceptive daydreams
that you have me  trapped me in.

And then so easily, one by one,
debris of my heart crumble like rain
down your window,
down each vein.
1 March 17:03
look at them all
bekka walker May 2018
If I let my eyes glaze over just right, I get a nice film quality picture.
I hover out of my body- like a mad director, evaluating what we've got, I snip the film strips from my memory, franticaly re-piecing together the story.
I didn't get the shots I wanted.
I feel hollow and sick.
Playing and re-playing the scenes where it all went to the dregs.
Maybe if I were paying closer attention- I could have gotten it right.
I could've rearranged the shot list- so "major life accident" was at the end of the movie- not the beginning.  

Sorting through what we're left with,
I hear no mellow music scoring my mothers choked sobs.
No soft glow to hide the harsh lines of grief described on her face.
The bottles of liquor weren't props.
And when the sound of silence rendered her breathless-
no one was there to yell "CUT"!
I grit my teeth and hold back my seething anger at such a **** writer.

This is not a sci-fi film.
No alien plummets to earth eager to turn back the sands of time because there was a fluke in the configubobulator.

Not a romantic comedy,
where his smashed body miraculously recovers and my mother, him, and all the kids pursue their dreams as a family of comics on the road- The jackson 5 of stand up!

No inspiring action film where the government tests a bionic exoskeleton, connects it to his brains nervous system, and after wild success he dedicates his life to intergalactic vigilante work, as well as a remaining a reliable family man.

There's no sending it back for re-writes.

There is no 1 hero to lean on.
No villain to hate.
Only us.
I hope one day, it's enough.

I hope one day we have a film we can be proud of.
5 years ago my step father, my hero, suffered a severe traumatic brain injury at the hands of a motorcycle accident. Today, he's bed ridden- and can't even **** himself. Leaving my mother, and 6 kids.
ryn Aug 2014
Tired eyes awaken and be at the ready...
For today has come with all of yesterday's debris.
Tired eyes you try but can't successfully conceal.
What the beating heart is dying to reveal.

Tired eyes glaze like you can't take anymore.
Filled to the brim; these sullen windows to my core.
Tired eyes give tears like you do effortlessly.
You seem so lifeless save for the drops you carry.

Tired eyes you say so much but yet the words are unspoken.
I know you quietly wish for a miracle to happen.
Tired eyes you reach but your arms are broken.
I know you scream out silently; all that's been forgotten.

Tired eyes why are you wide open but still you do not see...
See the sun rising, revealing all your wants splendidly.
Tired eyes I know you are but only waiting.
For the picturesque view of your heart's secret painting.

Tired eyes it's time and it's the end of a work day.
Don't anticipate tomorrow's load; just rest as I lay.
Tired eyes I am aware of sweet solace that you truly seek.
Tired eyes rest now so that tomorrow you might speak...
Tommy Randell Nov 2014
Glaze

The mother dresses her child
To walk out into the day
For the day to be known
For its challenging ways.
Words spoken by the woman
Are heard by the father
And the child is believed safe
In its glaze.

The teacher praises the child
For its laughter and joy
For each perfect remark
And each general score.
Counting the days
As the days pass by
The child sees the world
From the glow of their eyes.

For children to grow
There must be a cracking
A piercing disjointing
Not of flesh or of bones
But to be free of the fire
And out of the clay
To burst from the prison
Unbounded and brave

They must become
More of light than of stone
And not be that mirror
No-one else can hold.
For all men and women
Their childhood must be
That something seen into
Which helps keep things clear.
you are
            the daylight and the night

you are
            a blazing glaze
            also a soothing haze

you are
           more than whole
           you are certainly not a half

you are
         plenty
         and clearly not just a complementary

you are
         your best self
         tomorrow you will get even better.
you are enough
Debbie Lydon Jul 15
Glaze my mind's last bough with gold,
For it is waning like a face that has been carved by sorrow,
Reside, perched upon it like a robin in the cold,
Who's bold colour can't help but alight hope for tomorrow.

Though I wander, listlessly within this bleak time,
And a daily load upon my back has been thieving my vigour,
There is a guile still inside that is rightfully mine,
And an idea, born of strength, that is infinitely bigger.

I have been built upon a strong foundation,
Your attempt at erosion can do nothing or little,
A dignified and discerning heart beats within,
I will tell you in earnest, it is neither breaking nor brittle.

My sky does still have dark clouds to be cleared,
But such beauty they endow to a distant position,
Suffering has not marred those colours revered,
Tragedy and triumph are allied in this, life's war of attrition.
jonni inferno Jul 2018
i met her    
in a waking dream    
as i walked beside    
the sylvar stream    
whose chattering laughter    
shifted suddenly    
into a sylvar pool    
of enchanted silence    
a mirrored glaze    
in muted    
misty
dawning rays    
    
her cascading mane    
a crimson flare    
sea-green eyes    
alluring stare    
my heart stopped    
to see her there    
reposed    
'pon a verdant garden lee 
beside    
the misting sylvar mere    
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
dahlia lips    
whispering desire    
vermilion plunder splayed    
spellbound 
by her charms    
heart pounding    
thundering    
captured    
i stay    
an' wi' faire
lithesome beauty lay    
'pon a lush an' vibrant field    
beside    
the misting sylvar mere    
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
we lay there    
lost in time    
locked    
in the silence 
of kindred minds    
an' i knew her name    
tho she spoke it not    
sipped i then
the misty morning dew    
from precious lips
that from me drew    
all that i    
ever thought    
or felt    
or knew
'pon the grasses lush and green    
beside    
the softly glowing mere    
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
soft sings    
the whippoorwill    
the meadowlark    
an' mourning dove    
their voices weaving spells    
for lover's yearning hearts    
in the meadow    
by the way    
where my love an' i    
do lay    
entwined  
'pon the gleaming sylvan shore    
beside    
the shining crystal lake    
'neath
the weeping willow trees    
    
alas    
the dawning days    
were passing
when came malevolence    
within
a thund'ring tempest    
lightnings flashed
in ragged gashes
'cross the heaven's    
stygian passes
an' from those
gnawing caverns
spewed
a raging
howling
demon's brood
an' down flew they
by the sylvar stream
where my love
and i
entranced
did lay
beside
the mystic sylvar lake
'neath
the weeping willow trees
    
then from my arms    
vile creatures tore    
my lifesong    
my heart's blood    
my one    
and only love
her scintillating form    
they ripped    
her silent
piercing cries    
bleeding    
thru my soul
an' took her they  
far from this    
battered    
desert shore    
as her soundless    
painful    
chorus fades    
an' leaves me
here alone    
to lay    
'pon these shifting lifeless sands    
beside    
this sylvar lake of tears    
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
the meadowlark    
her spellsong sings    
thru ebon winter's    
weathering    
the silver stream    
her laughter froze    
this heart    
once fire    
a soulless stone    
    
so now this raven
winged    
doth fly
to scour the bruised    
an' shadowed skies    
to find my dove    
an' bring her home    
to lay
'pon these frozen brittle stones
beside
the darkened sylvar tarn
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
thru timeless age    
an' dangerous realms    
i followed    
her silent    
morbid    
ravenings    
as her grisly    
mewling pleas    
hollowed out my soul    
'til at last    
i found her    
chained an' bound    
lost    
deep within    
peculiar planes    
an' baneful realms    
far from    
the laughing sylvar stream    
far from    
the weeping willow trees    
    
her lament    
of bitter tears    
an' fear    
sliced    
thru my defenses    
a doomed    
pernicious heart    
she was    
wandering    
thru deepest depths    
where madness reigns    
all hope destroyed    
hell's minions    
reveled
unconstrained    
    
my dove    
called i    
my love    
'tis i    
once more    
thrice more  
time  
and time again    
till finally    
she hearkened    
to my voice    
    
true love    
recall us    
you and i    
dancing    
thru ageless realms    
consider us    
twirling    
under heaven's wings    
she
spinning
at my fingertips

an' i  
drew her then    
breathless    
into my arms    
ambrosia lips    
her sweet alms    
from her dark pain    
i did drink    
of her    
malignant sorrow    
i did partake  
my questing    
thirsting hunger    
willingly  
did i sate  
gathering all    
her shattered pieces    
from those altered    
blighted    
reaches
    
chains    
now broken    
i carried her
'pon wings    
of true love's    
sylvar light    
far from    
these darksworn legions    
into    
the dawning night's    
farthest regions    
    
an' there    
close by    
the laughing    
whispering    
sylvar stream    
lay her gently    
'pon the verdant flowing shore    
beside
our gleaming slyvar mere    
'neath    
our weeping willow trees    
    
under glimmering    
starlit heavens    
sing    
the whippoorwill    
the meadowlark    
an' mourning dove    
whose soulful songs    
compose    
for yearning lovers    
charms of hope    
where pools    
the laughing    
sylvar stream    
whose mirrored gaze    
draws us deep within    
celestial    
starlit    
wanderings    
  
as the wind    
whispering
sighs    
thru our hearts  
as we lay entwined    
'pon a verdant garden lee    
beside  
our misting sylvar mere    
'neath  
our silent    
weeping  
willow trees    
      
p j upchurch
melancholy eyes glaze over
the old honeycomb wallpaper pattern
and the mottled ceiling, paint peeling
noting every crevice in your new apartment
my consciousness dips in and out
of every nook and cranny, catching
fragments of the conversation.
you should always be the centre of attention.
i'd tried to entertain the notion, you'd noticed
my eyes in the ceiling and ushered me back
to the boring evening tea room with a gentle
fingertip or two pressed to my wrist.
do you wish you were somewhere else?
would you read my tea leaves and tell me,
what does the future hold for us?
Corthonyax May 2017
Neither here nor there I was
when you blossomed amid autumn.
The well, I heard, had been emptied.
Saddened, I sat on the porch and
watched the orange sky glaze by
like we used to. Come twilight
I reminisced the old days.
You said it would be fine if
reaching out was not an option.
So, neither here nor there I was,
but deep inside I always knew
the dog wouldn't hunt.
Babylyn Berina Feb 2016
Hers was the heart
of glamour and glaze
armoured by its petals
in every corners and ways

Hers was the heart
with kindness as her blood
a home for the lost--
abandoned the most

And I am a crossbreed
of hate and anger
with my own thorns
I put myself in danger
I am a bottle at sea
afloat I go miserably

But I'd rather be like this
I'd rather have it this way

For her heart is a home
but not a place for me to stay
Penne Feb 19
A dictionary of words
Thousands---infinites!
Little marks to describe a vast world
Lest not care of lacking logic
Aroused by imagination is my magic
Lemon zests the cornucopia of citrus
Are not they a splash of kalopsa?
Charisma, karma, euphoria?
Not allowed to bleed in blanc
Wail in rosy franc
Puddles of messed reflection
Fictions wonder reaction
Wander in the wildest wilderness
Describe the autumn, fall
Moist, solitary
Fawn on the lawn
Reality is the contrary
Refuge in the creamed sugar
Like a cup of iced kiss
Deep burrowed in the mapled hiss
Wait for its marmalade bliss
Head exploding in fireworks
Magnificent, what about nightfall?
Showers and streaks befall
Stars shoot smoke of ball
Cry tears of meteorites
Sprinkle the blinking sprites
Flow streams of sparkling silence
Swim the chasing glares
Enchant me in your chemise, evangelic skin
Leitmotif of mimes' maim, mean?
Speculate the pixelled fairies
Hide in the fruits of Alice
Spark at the dance of hands
Paint the faint trees
Baskets of floating sheep
Bounce in the enigmatic realm
Drooling in
As they transgress the egress
In chiffon blush flushed
Bittersweet caress
Bare grasslands with strangers
Wet the glory shine
Morning then hoots for sleep
Shush, weeping willows
Flowers of your scent hover the grove
Voices sweetly surrender
Linger for tender
Gloam or roam
River of innocence soul
Reaping the afterglow
Aglow my fountained lockes
Blur for it to be clearer
Illusions of ambiguity
As its lips meet the prism
Of brilliant optimism
Breathtaking fauvism
Breathless onism
Succumb in the limitless reverie
Rare of not having aneurysm
Persephone's persepolis
Blood of perenelia
Where Opheus court Eurydice
Winter solace holies
Lakes of beating lights
Bloom irregularly
As the sesquipedalian crawl out from its vine
In the Brobdingnagian it creeps
Line between sublime and wine
Harmony weave in palette
Rhythm rose from my red
Fresh breeze hush the roulette
Leaves blade the crafted well-made
Dusk, dawn to diiferentiate
Eclipse the hysteria and the impeccable
Love waltz
Glide the glistened clarity
Perfume lilies
Stares of lavenders
Rain the clouds of keys
Crystallizing and fractalizing
Mesmerize, astonish, aghast!
Rise your mile
Fragile my rile
Bridge this moonlit immeasurable, fantasia distance
Repertoire of piano choir
Luxury in the polychrome noir
Royal in the loyal wintermelon
Poppies color the spring
Butterflies fly in the effervescence
My painting sings a summer fling
Jump in the pantones
Rest your all
Stones amble swish scone
Wishes twinkle then hone
Will-o-wisps chill your bone
Lend me a wing
Let not be done in a ding
What I fear, free from the fringes of meek
My, this lexicon is not enough!
How to occupy the million, jillion, eternal galaxies
Shout in the rave
Echoing in the waves
Marvel at the bejewelled revel
Image my imagery
Oh, dive away child!
Let us drive in the garden of glaze
Careful not to be too amazed in the maze
In the hummed woodglade
As the critters flutter and flute
No way to chain me out of this loop
Pool of pretty astonishments
Diamonds of nature
Endure, not inure
Words alone are insufficient
These are just mere fantasies
Some are unexplainable
Some needs to be felt
Some needs to be seen
Not just read
Not just dreamt
I may sound dubious
But this is incredulous
Just a random collection of pretty words º-º
Jack Jun 2018
She was a darker shade of crimson
A blood red in a white canopy
A glaze of hate within her core
Fermented in her bones was a black heart
A venamous kind of blood streaming through her veins
A healing soul
A darker shade
The sweet feeling of release
As we poured more lighter fluid.  
The more it would glaze into the thick air of spring.
We are young.
We are helpless to feeling powerful,
As the fire
Homunculus Jan 20
We are but a fleeting plume of dust,
We are but a withered patch of rust,
We are but an aimless wind, whose gust
Is drifting, through the dreary twilight's must,

Awaiting, the new rising of the dawn,
Awaiting, the dewdrops which glaze the lawn
Awaiting, the quick prancing of the faun,
Whose dancing through the fields might lead us on

Through streams and forests, far from where we've strayed
Through pastures, where the lilies rock and sway
Through clearings, where the sunbeams pierce the gray
Of the foreboding clouds, to light the day.

Yet, here we wait, with eagerness and zeal,
Yet, here we lick these wounds, which never heal,
Yet, here we churn the spinning water wheel,
Which drips a fatal poison in our meal.
Mark Feb 18
I know of beauty in the need of praise
For her own view of self does view defect
And cannot dream that eyes adore her glaze,
That needn't the sun nor light to gift effect.
The social sites appear to worsen her;
Perfection shown does taunt the blemished seen
Her radiance a - glow then turns to blur,
Until that youth becomes what has then been.
Tho' shyness plagues me, ink from mine can't shy
If she this sonnet read, rewrites her eyes,
Then she to her own beauty can't deny,
And I, her sonneteer maintain disguise.

Tho' if nearby she reads from this aloud
Then may just may, she'll glance me out a cloud.
AmeriMav Jan 3
Dripping
Cold and gray skies
Icy glaze of morning
Reflects the deaf frozen state of
My heart
Awakened suddenly your voice
Burst of sunshine on me
Melts my cold world
Shining
A butterfly cinquain
mariamme May 2018
it arises in the early hours
the sun's eyes not yet opened
by the quiet noises of dawn

| the breath in my lungs took a walk last night and hasn't made it's drunken way homeward

the lost hours between 1:17 am and 4:32, when my lids drew heavy under my brows despite the caffeine and racing thoughts

| why do you occupy all the rooms in my soul? you are so casual with my currency, it seems as though you wish me bankrupt on your love's doorstep

i'm too proud to look to the future; i glaze over my calendars with records of past deeds, hoping to emulate the glory years of golden sunsets and scant sorrows; we both know my heart is beating less and less as the minutes quicken to the final gate

| and i forgive the pain you've caused, mucking about where you don't belong and shredding my drapes. they enclose the cache of locked-away traumas and you couldn't have known, so i must forgive and suffer with compassion in my eyes yet

in the morning hours
when the sun has not yet woken
the air is thick with waiting
i am caught in the fire of desire
turbulence at ground level
I need an acid wash and a raku fire
Roll me in leaves and set me on fire
Glaze me brilliant pink, gold-silver metallics
Turquoise tones...
I looked into the eyes of a lizard today
Saw evolution pass before me in a flash
I dreamed of you last night it was of lust not love
For I do not know you...Just a dream
Is this for love or lust?
I gotta know
Wanna be in love and have it feel like lust
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