"litten" poems
In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace—
Radiant palace—reared its head.
In the monarch Thought’s dominion—
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow,
(This—all this—was in the olden
Time long ago),
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A winged odor went away.
Wanderers in that happy valley,
Through two luminous windows, saw
Spirits moving musically,
To a lute’s well-tuned law,
Bound about a throne where, sitting
(Porphyrogene!)
In state his glory well befitting,
The ruler of the realm was seen.
And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.
But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch’s high estate.
(Ah, let us mourn!—for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him desolate !)
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
And travellers, now, within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms, that move fantastically
To a discordant melody,
While, like a ghastly rapid river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever
And laugh—but smile no more.
5k
Highly explosive,
Thus, a term to explain the thoughts rushing to the iron maiden's head as she fires away a salvo of pure affection, passion and warmth,
The heat is unbearable, the impact, such as the afterglow, surpass the rising sun, with a noble, golden light spread across the painful wound
Melting away in the sweet embrace of her devotion, this is surely fate.
Through the veins of this girl, lust for the one she adores is building up, racing within her blood, all she wants is for her feelings to be returned, but alike the sun when it shines with such beauty, it cannot happen, the closer one gets to her the more he will be burnt .
But surely, serenety relies within lonesome thoughts, moments and the time, in which her wish has been ceased to be ever fulfilled.
Yet, as a single dandelion, which is raised with attention and care can turn a whole, lethal dessert into an allure, lively and gentle garden;
She too can find someone, who will withstand her passion, burn up in it and shine with her without vanishing, carried away by time.
After all, the light of love is for all to be litten.
~ Umi
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 1:42 PM UTC
Days pass quickly,
But I burn lowly..
Time passes swiftly,
But I melt slowly..
Days end with nights,
But I,
never end with night...
And will,
remain as light;
From night to light...
From dark to hope....
From failure to success...
I love to enlighten;
like a candle..
I love to brighten;
each shadow..
I love to burn;
as I burn to melt...
I love to melt;
as I melt to brighten...
I love to brighten,
as I brighten to enlighten...
I love to enlighten,
as I belong to candle..
and am full of wax;
which is made to litten...
May 4, 2021
May 4, 2021 at 6:55 AM UTC
A bittersweet smile touches my lips softly
As I run my fingers through the scars on my pale skin
My heart plays drum and bass
As I turn the pages of my favorite book and they stick together because someone spilled coke on them
All the drunk nights creating a liquid rush
As I sip cold whisky-coke
My senses getting high
When I smell a just litten up joint
Feeling alive while being able to remember
Shaking, thinking about the day I won't
Jun 19, 2017
Jun 19, 2017 at 6:00 PM UTC
I don't want a swing over the pond,
Or unicorns in my garden.
Just give me some light,
To find my way home.
Some air to breathe,
Some room to live.
Give me some hope,
Give me some love.
Give me the laughter of the childhood games,
Give me the warmth of my grandma's lap.
Give me the love of my lover's part,
Give me the protection of my brother's arm.
I don't want any candies or cakes,
I don't want the beauties of the world.
All I want is the joy of a little one,
Litten to peace. To innocence and to bliss.
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 10:41 AM UTC
The air is tense
Something is wrong
I'm the intruder
I've jumped the fence
Their backs all turned
Their faces hidden
The place is cloudy with noise
But some how well litten
Why do I feel out of place
What is the difference here
Searching and feeling
I'm stuffed with fear
Mysterious faces
No that's not it
My breath shortens to my paces
As I realize what it is
I'm not different in color or race
Just something worth while
Because everyone except me
Has on a smile
Dec 7, 2011
Dec 7, 2011 at 7:32 PM UTC
Scratching
Screeching
Scheming
Hellish boys trimming their blades
Sliced by nights eyes
Callous carefulness
Calamity in the Mystics eyes intricitley cutting silver pences
Crying their breach
Rubble toes and hardened minds
The kind one can't contain
Blaring the shrieks of a litten mouse
Holding up high
Flying high
Can not find stable ground
Hellish girls grinding their teeth
Strapping their ties
High and tight
Grading their hearts
They both want to
To be carelessly bad, free and rash
Terribly so,
So much so - without a cause
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 11:22 PM UTC
The breeziness of gentle winds, leafs rustle as trees sway
Sunlight rays a partial light, that shine across the bay
Summers warmth an evening sky, are setting on the day
Dusk approaches through the trees, as the daylight goes away
Flowered tracks along the gorge, a gentle mountain breeze
Dusty valleys lead the way, past the old oak trees
Down to flowing waterfalls, the beauty that one sees
Flowered tracks floating beside, are following with ease
Deep inside the canyon walls, the water hits the stream
Shimmers from the waters edge, upon a golden gleam
The beauty of a secret place, waters merged with a sun beam
Is this a true reality, or flowered tracks last dream
Between the hills on golden ponds, lies colours of tracks flowers
Where the rocky crescent forms, and where the sunlight cowers
Moon light shadows visible, only after sunlight hours
The beauty of a litten dusk, the light the moon devours
A wolf howls above the rocks, high upon the glade
One heart beat I can hear, I am feeling so afraid
Full moons light upon my soul, the wolfs cursed life is paid
Wolf's blood bite on flowered tracks, a glistened moonlight trade
Wolfs eyes glare standing alone, no hunters and no packs
Were wolfs fangs on shadows moon, blood seeping through the cracks
A man once stood is now transformed, his humanity life lacks
The werewolf curse is fulfilled, complete on flowered tracks
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 6:27 PM UTC
nothing good happens after 2 am.
and yet here we are —
a rather curious pair of star-litten messed ups;
they say that liquid mercury and bare skin
are never a good combination
but kiss me nonetheless;
hold me nonetheless,
burn me nonetheless —
after all,
temples get burned down for the idols they host.
nothing good happens after 2 am,
but then again,
this is no place for sunsets and poems and sunday dates;
this is the apocalypse —
trapped for centuries inside our skin.
so go on,
break me — crack me open and lick the wounds,
and then maybe we'll know why persephone keeps going back to the underworld.
and then maybe we can call it love.
so go on,
kiss me until running breathless
becomes our way of breathing;
this may not be something we survive.
after all,
the daylight is an estranged lover and we are this house's walls trying to forget.
nothing good happens after 2 am,
but you will be the reason for every word, darling.
you will be the nightfall-colored eyes,
the nails all painted black
from when you dug for the dirt in my chest.
you will be the forgotten histories,
the impenetrable groves,
the coffee shop clichés,
the storms that never pass,
the nights that never last,
the secret places and warzones
and cotton dresses and fallen peonies,
and a threefold heartbreak
personified —
after all,
heartbreaks feel better when they come from you.
nothing good happens after 2 am
but t h i s already is a cautionary tale, anyway,
even without the 2 am
and tonight will be us,
crying wolf and coming undone.
tonight will be us,
tiptoeing through a minefield of mistakes,
mistakes,
and mistakes.
tell me, what's the harm in another one?
tonight will be our mayhem
and our foreboding
and our free-fall —
fatal. irreversible. majestic.
tonight will be us —
foreign lands mapping each other,
baptizing each other, darling.
and tomorrow will be ours to regret.
Dec 18, 2019
Dec 18, 2019 at 4:06 AM UTC
She Just left..
My Heart Aches.
The Pain Sickens.
Memories Hurt
Loving Her Hurts
Her Absence Weakens.
She Just Left...
Just Said Goodbye..
Zero Remorse.
I want To Cry.
I Need Her Back
Where She Belongs.
She Just Left...
Her Smile Was Wide.
Her Eyes Were Litten.
I Just watched Her Leave,
Leave Me Behind
Lost And Beaten..
She Just Left..
And I Just Stood there
Confused and frozen.
Couldnt bear the tought
Couldnt really believe
That Once Again
My Heart Was Broken.
She Just Left...
-)(
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
When I look back on my past
All I see are strangers
Unfamiliar faces
Cloud my memories
Portraits all around
Hung about my walls
The faces I remember
But the names I can’t recall
Its such an odd phenomena
every man convinces himself the world cares about his yada ya
To think the universe gives a single thought
to the cost of our lost friends
a departure we taught ourselves to
fight
the light
is no longer litten
we watched it quaver and waver as our destiny was written
we saw the disappearing.
sounding throughout our hearing,
and told ourselves what would be done
But soon the notes of our heart had been restrung
we waited, heartstrings faded
out of tune, out of motive, melodies flat
The rhyme scheme of life ended like- this.
When I look back on my past
All I see are strangers
All the familiar faces
of past friends I’ve failed
Portraits all around
Hung about my walls
Force me to remember
The names I wish I could recall
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 8:03 PM UTC