Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Words
"lucios" poems
There sits a man With a wooden leg and a thousand wrinkles Smoke around his blue sailors cap Smoke shrouding all but his eyes in a mysterious sense of pain The smoke fades from a gentle grey to a dark midnight black Now there are only the eyes The purple eyes sticking out of a shroud of black smoke as if they were the beacon to heaven The eyes stare into the distance Suddenly a part of the black smoke curls into itself and explodes in a rush of air and stale old smoke Now there are two dots of lucios purple smoke They float towards me and stay there With a strange glint in them they look towards the black smoke I say look for that is what they were doing The blavk smoke starts moving inwards As if there were a great source of power summoning theme The speed increases and I feel extreme fear and power I blink And right there sits the man With a wooden leg and a thousand wrinkles With a blue sailors cap But now his wrinkles are different They are black Like the smoke that moments ago was around him That smoke was now in him His skin was normal Soft as a baby but his wrinkles were black The two purples eyes that float before me seem to beckon towards the wrinkle in the mans brow I walk forward and I look into the wrinkle The eyes float behind my head now Suddenly a force pushes me into the wrinkle I fall in the vast abyss that is this wrinkle And I feel it all Pain Fear Love Death Hatred Apprehension Lust Sadism Masochism But above all guilt The horrible darkness pushes the guilt into my soul and crushes me What did this man do that is hidden by his wrinkle did he.... There sits a man With a wooden leg and a thousand wrinkles And a blue sailors cap
0
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 3:45 PM UTC
Tdaaries
Wrinkles
There sits a man With a wooden leg and a thousand wrinkles Smoke around his blue sailors cap Smoke shrouding all but his eyes in a mysterious sense of pain The smoke fades from a gentle grey to a dark midnight black Now there are only the eyes The purple eyes sticking out of a shroud of black smoke as if they were the beacon to heaven The eyes stare into the distance Suddenly a part of the black smoke curls into itself and explodes in a rush of air and stale old smoke Now there are two dots of lucios purple smoke They float towards me and stay there With a strange glint in them they look towards the black smoke I say look for that is what they were doing The blavk smoke starts moving inwards As if there were a great source of power summoning theme The speed increases and I feel extreme fear and power I blink And right there sits the man With a wooden leg and a thousand wrinkles With a blue sailors cap But now his wrinkles are different They are black Like the smoke that moments ago was around him That smoke was now in him His skin was normal Soft as a baby but his wrinkles were black The two purples eyes that float before me seem to beckon towards the wrinkle in the mans brow I walk forward and I look into the wrinkle The eyes float behind my head now Suddenly a force pushes me into the wrinkle I fall in the vast abyss that is this wrinkle And I feel it all Pain Fear Love Death Hatred Apprehension Lust Sadism Masochism But above all guilt The horrible darkness pushes the guilt into my soul and crushes me What did this man do that is hidden by his wrinkle did he.... There sits a man With a wooden leg and a thousand wrinkles And a blue sailors cap
Continue reading...
47
Liliana, ¿está mal que esté celoso del vaso que toca tus labios lucios? o el sol de la mañana que acaricia tu suave piel? ¿es incorrecto que soy celoso del viento de la tarde que suavemente mueve su pelo sedoso? Y la música que penitrates tu alma? Es malo que estoy celoso del espejo que ve y refleja tus ojos como la luz de la luna sobre un mar en calma? ¿está mal que esté celoso de la ropa que abraza tu cuerpo como me gusta hacer? O la música que llena tu alma con pasión? ¿es incorrecto que soy celoso del gatito que le hace sonreír? ¿y la almohada que acuna suavemente tu cabeza mientras sueñas? ¿está mal que estoy celoso de aquellos que pueden escuchar la música encantadora que es su voz? ¿o aquellos que pueden ver la forma en que camina con elegancia como una princesa en una película? ¿es incorrecto que en su ausencia parezco a un barco sin un timón? ¿o que te echo tanto de menos es como un dolor físico? Si todos estos sentimientos están equivocados nunca voy a ser correcto, porque las palabras en este poema nunca puede ser suficiente para decirte cuánto te amo.
0
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 4:17 PM UTC
Evenson123
To my wife Liliana
Liliana, ¿está mal que esté celoso del vaso que toca tus labios lucios? o el sol de la mañana que acaricia tu suave piel? ¿es incorrecto que soy celoso del viento de la tarde que suavemente mueve su pelo sedoso? Y la música que penitrates tu alma? Es malo que estoy celoso del espejo que ve y refleja tus ojos como la luz de la luna sobre un mar en calma? ¿está mal que esté celoso de la ropa que abraza tu cuerpo como me gusta hacer? O la música que llena tu alma con pasión? ¿es incorrecto que soy celoso del gatito que le hace sonreír? ¿y la almohada que acuna suavemente tu cabeza mientras sueñas? ¿está mal que estoy celoso de aquellos que pueden escuchar la música encantadora que es su voz? ¿o aquellos que pueden ver la forma en que camina con elegancia como una princesa en una película? ¿es incorrecto que en su ausencia parezco a un barco sin un timón? ¿o que te echo tanto de menos es como un dolor físico? Si todos estos sentimientos están equivocados nunca voy a ser correcto, porque las palabras en este poema nunca puede ser suficiente para decirte cuánto te amo.
Continue reading...
10