"lunges" poems
"So the pen is mightier? who'da'thunk'it."
He said to the bleeding man tied down
to a messed, stained, bed.
The bound man figured,
even though he just got
to an LA plagued
by criminals, killers, and copy-cats,
that he wasn't getting out of here whole,
finally.
Holding a pen knife,
red-faced and sweating,
was his captor.
It had been a struggle
to awake and realize
who stood before him:
Quill.
The exact killer he'd been looking for.
He had heard about him in the Halo Herald,
An LA pun, it's not very popular,
but he liked the funny section.
"Are you just going to stand there?"
The bound man says, eagerly,
"Hey bud, you're the hanged man,
I'll do the talking."
"It's about time!"
"huh?"
"I'd been waiting.
heard you'd be at that
open mic. Knew you liked
the mealy type."
"Shuddup or I'll write you off."
Quill runs his pen knife over the bound man's right cheek.
"Stings a little.
Usually, I start with a rufie
and emotional damage.
But it looks like you
want to cut to the chase.
I'm a man of a similar mind.
spirit.
problem."
"Nobody's like me dude."
The bound man locks eyes with Quill.
"What're your trophies? huh?
I read you like to drain your victims,
cook'em dry.
don't you use their blood and powdered remains as ink?
Short stories or something?"
"Oh, an avid reader?! it's your lucky day:
you get to be part of the collection!"
The lamp nearby tumbles
to the floor as Quill lunges,
ready to ****
"Wait! Don't you want to know who I am!"
"Not really."
"I'm a ser-"
The sentence is finished by
nothing but the sound of blood
and air
gurgling
into places it was never meant to be
as Quill's blade passes through flesh.
"Pfft, what, you think you're special?"
Quill saunters over to the sink.
"I'd hate to waste ink.
but there'll be more.
there's always more.
isn't that right, Celine."
he says to no one
and stands there with a smirk
as if listening to her.
Oct 15, 2022
Oct 15, 2022 at 2:22 AM UTC
speculation pulls down on the body
the quick switch into panic, akin to the comedic drop of an anvil
when you realise that things aren't as simple as they seemed
it's amazing that you could even be shocked
but when has anything ever been simple?
what else is life to you but a riddle?
the questions which rush through your brain
sweeping you off your feet and onto the gravel
curiosity lunges at you, hungry and ready to feed
to claim another life, to rip each "what if?" out from your curled fists
you should have already known the murders it is capable of
but you would never take the proverb literally, would you
"things are the way they are, because they are"
do not lie back in the mud and be defeated
pull the mystery apart, unravel the string with your mighty claws
seize the day and avenge the cat
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 8:55 PM UTC
the green grove a magnet to my eye
on these sun baked plains
I enter the glade to take shade with the cicadas
and vampire mosquitos
then I see it, Eden’s villain, coiled and rattling,
red ready to strike
I raise my staff, I too programmed to survive, do to what millennia
have taught
still we are in this staring standoff—silent save its rattle, deaf
I am to the chorus of insects
neither of us moves for an eternity of seconds, until the snake lunges at my feet
where its fangs find a field mouse, and devour it while I watch, an unwitting witness to expiry other than my own
I leave the copse, whole, content another creature has, for today, taken my place in the bloodletting
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 5:37 PM UTC
Blood is thicker than water.
I'm nine years old and my mother had sighed us both up for a dieting course.
At eighteen I still see how interchangeable fatness and ugliness are to her.
I still have to stop myself from thinking of skipping meals after I ate "too much".
Clinging to the fear of the slippery slope that serves as my only guard.
I see it in my friends too,
comforted by their opposition for what my mother had embraced like gospal for the helpless fools.
Blood is thicker than water.
I like the hairs on my body.
The short and soft strands that cover my legs, blonde and black and all too
natural.
Removing them leaves my legs red and prick-prick- pickling for days but-
My sister laughs through a wrinkled nose,
My cousin tells stories, horrified, of women like me,
Mother says it's unhygienic and would not let me leave the house like this.
I haven't worn shorts in years.
But my friends' confident 'fuck you' to everyone who isn't them,
who dares control their bodies and shame them into pain or hiding,
makes me feel like one day I might wear them again.
Blood is thicker than water,
I find it hard to talk to people.
The thought of discussing anything more than trivial matters makes my lunges heavy in my chest.
Talking to my parents- a heavy led filling what seem less and less like lungs with every passing second.
Talking to my friends- the heaviness doesn't always go away, but the weight doesn't get harder to bear.
I heard my mother tell a friend how her kids talk to her about everything.
A bitter laugh never tasted so much as the sea.
Blood is thicker than water,
Since I can remember myself, I never wanted kids.
Took me years so unveil why.
The dismissal cut deep when Mother assumed she knew me better than I do, a cruel arrogance for what she must only consider her property.
'You'll change your mind and give me grandchildren'
A payment for my life-
"Interest" she calls it.
Blood is thicker than water,
When I came out to you, dear parents, you once again ignored me
as if I hadn't tortured myself enough,
as if it hadn't taken me years trying to accept myself before you turned your back on me with cruel dismissal.
As if I don't still struggle.
All I have left is to fall back on my friends' support again,
being caught in their loving embrace without ever asking to.
They say you can't choose your family but-
the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.
May 28, 2020
May 28, 2020 at 2:29 PM UTC
I do not greet the water for I never really left its embrace
Although it evaporated from my skin it never dried from my heart
A familiar chill rests upon me as my body falls below the surface
The water rushes into my lunges like an avalanche of bliss
It fills up every corner of me anchoring my soul deeper
With the waves crashing over me and the waters arms around me
My last breath slips to the surface as I slip into serenity...into my home
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
My heart lunges out of my chest
Over and over and over again
Its getting harder to breathe
And even harder to think
My bodys been taken over
I’m possessed with obsession
And over thinking
Please just stop
The thoughts are like spiders
Crawling in my brain
GET OUT OF MY HEAD
I curl into a ball
And try to go to bed
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 1:28 PM UTC
[December 30, 2016]
A brilliant statue of golden illuminated scales dances effortlessly in the sky
Twisting and turning like a bird changing air currents as if it were alive
Enormous in it's stature it blocks out the sun with powerful wings of luminosity
Flames of a dozen colors lick the air, sizzling with a hint of animosity
An evil shadow shrouds the village as the gemstone serpent soars overhead
Roaring with a thousand echoing voices, the world turns silent with dread
With a sudden shift in posture, it dives like a freshly loosed flaming arrow
The people scatter like ants beneath its hungry gaze, calling for their hero
Like a meteor, the serpent crashes into the earth with an explosion of dirt
Tendrils of fire stream from the crater as the houses erupt in bursts
Unseen mangled screams of anguish fill the scene from covered smoke
With a flap, a gust and a roar of fury, it separates air from choking cloak
Villagers stare in awe at the legendary creature standing ominously before them
Scales of crimson ruby glisten behind a furious glare of murderous intent
One brave villager steps forward, adorned in polished silver mail
The hero draws a sword, raises his shield and prepares to fail
The dragon charges forward, lashing out with tooth and claw
The knight lunges back, narrowly missing a bite from its maw
It spits fire of molten lava, melting the armor to his skin
Burning alive inside his armor, his flesh sizzles beneath his grin
Defeated and broken, he places his sword into the earth
Stumbling and shaking, he limps to the burning church
He returns with a large ruby stone in his trembling arms
He places the egg at it's mother's feet, safely unharmed
The crimson dragon solidified into a glimmering golden statue
Caressing her ruby egg against her breast, love forever true
The legends tell not a tale of a ferocious and unstoppable creature
But of a gemstone serpent, who wanted to protect her piece of nature
Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 6:34 PM UTC
Our temporal lobes have neurons whose sole purpose
Is to recognize faces
You see, humans are meant to be connected
Our bodies should vibrate
From the sounds of emotional resonance
We are meant to be seen,
Really seen, delving deeply into streams of running water
Where our vulnerability makes love with our experience
And this need is so great, that day after day, year after year,
We open our mouths with hope
That our words can share a meaning with someone
But mostly, we are left colliding
Or surviving near misses
Driving through relationship guardrails
Over the edge into desperation
We are left holed up in separate hospital beds
Isolated by IV drips of disappointment
Until we tell ourselves that true happiness is a myth
And the word “soulmate” was intended for everyone else
This used to be me
And it used to be you
When I awoke this morning
Remnants of our laughter were singing on your pillow
There are 86 lashes on your right, upper eye lid
I can almost see them listening to me
Conduits for comprehension
As I speak,
You turn your ear so it can graze my lips
I whisper while I stare at your profile
Blinking, gentle smile lines
And my heart lunges toward yours like a magnet
I have crawled inside your pupils
To be covered with wet, black paint shining
From your spirit outward
Opposite of indifferent
Our faces so close that I can taste you breathing
This strange sensation is the absence of fear
I. See. You.
I have always known you
I can pull the IV out of my arm
Because what keeps me alive,
Is that you know me too
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 12:56 AM UTC
It creeps in the night, a drag in its step.
It looks at me, those blood shot eyes.
It is something I have started to despise.
A small but strong foe.
I hoped it wasn't so as I walked in.
I could feel the heaviness in the air.
Beware. I wont be scared.
I will be fine. I'll confront it, it will then deny.
It doesn't matter though, I'll try.
That blank look peers into my soul.
Selfish, out to destroy me.
The troops wont be deployed.
With my brain it has toyed.
Beware, I need to be prepared.
A step at a time inching toward this beast that awaits.
Then it sees me……
It lunges forward, toward my heart.
It starts to tear me apart.
I crumble to the floor, looking to the door that the beasts is walking toward.
I lay there, now looking at the ceiling, overcome with this sad feeling.
Was this really my meaning?
Breaths getting shorter, it's harder to breathe.
In my final seconds my eyes start to close.
The beast is at ease.
It is now pleased, standing in the doorway watching me drift away.
The beast then walks away, off to bed.
It rests it head on the pillow getting ready for work tomorrow.
I wake alone in bed.
I walk around the empty house.
It is quiet, it is cold.
I know the story isn't done being told.
When it comes home, I start to have the feeling again.
With all my fright I walk into the room just to make sure the beast isn't out to play.
I hold it tight, then I look up to see its bloodshot eyes.
It's been a short day, It will be a long arduous night.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
Heading to nowhere, trudging, one foot falls a step in front of the last...
left battles right as one lunges for the future and one stays in the past..
Eyes scan the horizon, new possibilities with every step…
the mind grows wiser and ejects hostilities with every breath..
Gazing into the heavens selfishly to accept it’s warm love..
As sunlight falls helplessly from its ancient home above..
It traveled all the way to give me and this amazing planet life..
No turning back today, every ray makes the ultimate sacrifice..
Crashing through the darkness until it finds a reaction..
Fate and destiny have yet again have proven the laws of attraction…
Sometimes it just takes being in the right place at the right time..
For inspiration to follow the narrow path into an open mind..
This why I find myself drawn to every distant corner of the earth...
Subconsciously searching for my little section of sand, stone, or dirt..
Something keeps pulling me along to witness the unseen..
Embracing it with blind obedience leads me on to another dream..
So I'll follow this attraction no matter what's written on the scroll..
It's what the future holds, the unseen paints the missing half of my soul...
Aug 6, 2010
Aug 6, 2010 at 2:20 PM UTC
His rasping grumbles define hunger, louder than my stomach
complains about the seven hours since breakfast,
Grunts replace the pry of a commanding tongue, eager to devour, or a feathery graze past the
hook in my collarbone, a tender nip at the crescent of flesh that
peeks below my white plastic earring.
Gutturals guide our transition from a stained mattress to a rickety desk where
Frenetic eyes validate the arch of my back.
Wild thrusts push us perpendicular.
Undoubtedly, my howls alert the neighbors.
If not, then the neglected crashes of my plummeting clutter or the unfaltering thud of my head
pounding the half closed window can attest:
We mean business.
The tired floor creaks ‘nd cranks as erratic lunges hasten.
(grasping his shoulders tighter than a lone, wrinkled hand grips the pepper spray in her bag)
I brace that swelling itch, my hips shudder as it consumes, throbs, and then
Electrifies to axons from dendrites.
And he doesn’t miss a beat— more jabs **** my liver.
Jun 1, 2010
Jun 1, 2010 at 4:20 PM UTC
At goodwill Buy the Pound
every day is black friday
Hundreds of soccer moms line up their
white sneakers on a black and yellow caution tape line
zombie over it streching for yu-gi-oh cards
wait for hazmat suits to wheel out eight bins full of trash gone treasure.
When the bins are locked in place the hazmat suits go back to pack another load
The air horn sounds.
You do not want to be anywhere near that caution tape line when this happens.
At goodwill buy the pound
If you're not part of the fight,
you're part of the floor.
They need to find their
puzzle peices lost in cat liter
Johnny really needs
every single nerf dart
DID YOU TAKE A NERF DART?!
WE TALKED ABOUT THIS JO-ANN
THOSE WERE FOR JOHNNY.
Johnnys grandma is not the only elder throwing elbows
varacose veins are curb stomping dads hauling consoles to make a quick buck
Skinny College aged video game collectors swim through the mom-pocalypse
raid the stashes for disguarded NES cartridges
Jo-ann grabs a twinky boy by the black graphic hoodie.
Tosses him back into the horde
lunges for a barbie doll hidden under some wires.
This is not a place for nice children.
If you aren't willing to push around some nanas
you will leave covered in nike prints.
This place turns people.
Ever look at someones mom and think
She looks like she's always wearing a mask.
She is!
Buy the pound is her natural habitat.
One grandma keeps so many cats, her living room is a Petrie dish
I think she just wants to be in charge of a small third world countrey.
Granny needs to go rally up the soccer moms at buy the pound.
To lead those cats into a mother thirfting revolution
These woman leave feeling like they saved their family a fortune
Dumpster diving for sport.
Every tossed or trampled stranger
One flip flop closer to
feeding their children
clawing through poverty
When that airhorn sounds again.
They scurry back to their carts.
Tell their children
"Make sure nobody steals this"
as they line back up in haste.
Touch their all white nikes to the caution tape line.
Hold their family close like brass knuckles.
when that airhorn sounds.
It's time to fight.
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 10:49 AM UTC
Buzzing emerald jungle swoons—
hip kitty soul eyes embrace the red wanderer.
It’s a tactical chess game,
both aware of the other’s presence.
Nebulous black perched in shadows,
desert red fool skips like a rock.
when eyes eclipse each other
an electric hummmmmmm buzzes
as their hearts start glowing like a peridot ember
the wind whizzes and twists
through their perfect curly hirsute
rushing luscious aurora energy pulsing
to and fro like giddy hearts exchanging notes in class…
Their blurry bodies bound forward
fox scorching ground while panther burns branches
lightning leg movements paws calls thunder
sun red hot fuzz lunges up
midnight cool moon goddess panther slams down
colors collide and crash and cling and clap
spines ignited in tye-dye holographic rainbows
their claws singe each other’s skin
their eyes swirl black holes
holy howls and breath coalesce
as one love
as one sight,
all encompassing
mythical tail told to all
through campfire gypsies and artists canvas
panting the dancing fox and panther
the bhavacakka.
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 7:49 PM UTC
At your breast he likes to play
dive-for-the-nipple.
Like an Olympian on the high platform
he rears back,
contemplates the distance,
the object,
then lunges.
Today he grabs his own hair, pulls.
And screams.
The more he pulls, the more he screams
until I unclutch his fingers.
Don’t we all wish sometimes
a big hand would swoop down
to unclutch us
from our mistakes?
Then, oh! to rear back
and lunge
at life’s big love.
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 5:56 PM UTC
i freeze over
when i attempt to visualize giving myself
even an ounce of compassion
i would have to consider myself worthy
worthy of kindness
worthy of love
worthy of a home
worthy of life
i do not remember when i last felt i deserved compassion
it may have been when i was young
my foolish heart believed in the body for which it beat
until it broke
and broke
and broke
i am told i wear wisdom well
as if wisdom is a new coat that i tried on
instead of ancient scars under the fresh fabric
i did not choose
this
i plead with my reflection
even though we are both holding a knife
please
let me live
let me rest
but the villain lunges, slashing wildly, drawing blood
a hit
a palpable hit
Feb 18, 2022
Feb 18, 2022 at 11:07 PM UTC
You hear it
Outside your room,
Almost like a whisper.
You lean closer
Knowing no one else is home.
All night
Things have been
Out of place:
Moved, scattered, tampered
Destroyed.
You keep looking
Over your shoulder.
Is someone there?
You ask yourself.
But only darkness
Awaits your gaze
Until now...
A figure, almost golden
Yet, you know you are alone
Only the stranger outside your room.
Again, you lean closer,
The breathing now a faint whisper:
"Reactivated"
The voice says
As you turn on your flashlight.
Shia surprise
He lunges towards you.
Slamming the door,
You are now safe
From Shia Labeouf
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 11:02 PM UTC
slithers up the stairs
black as night his mutant skin drips upward
one
more
stair
she can hear him slink
one foot in front of the other
she retreats her hallowed head
the stalker climbs higher
higher than his arrogance could ever take him
and higher than the noose he has hung
for the depredation of her
screams forewarning in her head
this is the man which shares her bed
lunges forth and bolts the latches
head heart body spirit
bites the tattered tenderness
feels it bleed between his teeth
swallows her last atonement
so that there is nothing left to offer
envy rips through shivering splinters of a man
with nothing left to cover
she stalks across the bedroom
where she can see a hopeful face
where peaceful air once drifted high
will return again that way
a pis aller leap
from where she never stood again
this man will not be the death of her
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 12:00 AM UTC
With a suitcase
Of a past
Belonging to
Another of me
Strain keeps pulling
In steps already taken
Scanning the beauty ahead
Looking at the swamp behind
Earth flys with the release
As the baggage crashes
Splaying open
It’s contents no longer contained
Dust devils swirl
As torments fly upward
Upon clearing
Vision magnifies
Movement is smooth
Freedom lunges me
Freeing mind and heart
Allowing achievement
Written by E. M. Rushton
July 2019
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 8:14 PM UTC
His lips move but the monsters words of evil are heard
His mouth shapes "I love you" but hatred is echoed
He reaches for a hug but the beast lunges to attack
There's a monster on his back
He searches for the colors of day but is shut in a cave
He seeks for the limelight but is stuck in the shadows
He forces a smile but the hurt is pulling a frown
There's a monster that slipped inside
He searches for knowledge but the monster hid the books
He attempts navigation but the map is ripped to shreds
He wants to blossom but the beast chains him down
There's a monster deep within
He's found and yet he's lost
His happiness is hidden
He's full of life but wants it to end
There's a monster who's made a home
The monster has him on a leash
A never ending round of "simon says"
He's a puppet with claws up his shirt
A marionette with strings pulled tout
The monster disguises but unintentionally reveals
Brutality is uncovered but strength shines through
Controversy is displayed but persistence can be found
Anger takes over but intensity refuses to hide
The monster is battled with bravery
The monster is fought with passion
The tables turn
The untouchables are touched
After years of war the monster does not budge
He is frustrated and trapped but does not give up hope
He gathers an army to fight on and fight hard
There's a very persistent monster
The end can be touched it appears so near
The dispute however does not come to a close
The fight has no intention of ending
The monster does not wish to leave
The monster lives with an ignored eviction notice
The beast refuses to leave but agrees to downsize
From giant to large to small to smaller
The beast is tamed and not exiled
His strings are extended but never cut
His voice quiet but can be heard
His hugs are gentle but welcomed and received
He lives in peace as a landlord to a monster
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 7:01 PM UTC
My eyes weren't burned blind with hot oil
I am not a brainwashed cult member
I do not think ignorance is bliss
And I see lies and truth as night and day
Some people speak to me
Like I've never walked outside my door
As if the truth could **** me
"But I'll tell you anyway"
We've all heard that one before
I know what's happening
I know that I am not the only person you're seeing
I know that you're vicious in your animalistic ways
The animalism that society identifies as "manly"
I'm sure others have received the text
The phone call
The words that make us feel needed
The words that make me feel like I am doing something I want to do
Even if I don't
I know that you're not perfect
I know that your mind is obsessive
And compulsive
And meticulous like neat stacks of paper
Or freshly cut grass
I still don't know how you value me
As a person
As an object
As a heart
As a brain
It could be any of the listed above
And even though you're not the perfect gentleman
I understand that people aren't perfect
I'm not blind to your mistakes
No one is covering my ears
Or hindering my senses
The truth is right in front of me
You are the truth
People look at me
As if I am an orphaned child
A recent widow
Still in denial because of the trauma
That life has presented to us
I know that you can be horrible
Cruel and abusive
At the same time
I know you can make me feel like the only person who has ever rested in your arms
And even if I'm not the only one
I know I'm not the only one
I accept it
Because your presence makes me feel better about myself
Your face motivates me to do well in all I do
Your body encourages me to run for miles and do hundreds of lunges
Maybe I'm using you just as much as you may be using me
We're messed up and mortified and scarred
"You can do better" they say
"You deserve someone who will treat you like a princess because you're intellectual and pretty"
What if I don't want that
What if all I want is to complacently stay
In a place that I don't necessarily belong
But it feels right
So I do
And that's why they think I'm blind
Senseless
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 9:28 PM UTC
I watch him smoke the cigaret
And I hand him another one
Because I want to defect his lunges
The way he neglected my heart
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 5:13 PM UTC
Someone.
One person is all I ask.
Maybe they'll find the time to read this.
Even though it's sad;
One persons greatest fear,
Never quite finding it's way to the surface,
Even though it's always just below it.
Heaven finds a way to taunt me now and then,
Even though I medicate my thoughts away,
Light always fades, and darkness
Plunges through.
My story is one of fear, of despair,
Even. But maybe, I'll find a way out of this
Insanity.
***
Everyone expects me to believe that it doesn't hurt,
Even though they see how tentative I am,
They plainly see how scared I am.
History goes on for...
Ever. And ever and ever and ever.
Why can't anyone let me be in peace?
Hello, I'm looking for a way out.
Instead of helping me,
They just shut me down and out.
Everyone seems to think they know me.
Luckily for them, they don't.
Inside, I hide my true thoughts away, but that turned me into a
Ghost. A former shell of myself, wandering around aimlessly.
Help me? When will it stop? Because the white light at the end of the
Tunnel, was just a freight train coming my way.
Nov 14, 2011
Nov 14, 2011 at 8:15 AM UTC
It is noontime, Senlin says. The sky is brilliant
Above a green and dreaming hill.
I lay my trowel down. The pool is cloudless,
The grass, the wall, the peach-tree, all are still.
It appears to me that I am one with these:
A hill, upon whose back are a wall and trees.
It is noontime: all seems still
Upon this green and flowering hill.
Yet suddenly out of nowhere in the sky,
A cloud comes whirling, and flings
A lazily coiled vortex of shade on the hill.
It crosses the hill, and a bird in the peach-tree sings.
Amazing! Is there a change?
The hill seems somehow strange.
It is noontime. And in the tree
The leaves are delicately disturbed
Where the bird descends invisibly.
It is noontime. And in the pool
The sky is blue and cool.
Yet suddenly out of nowhere,
Something flings itself at the hill,
Tears with claws at the earth,
Lunges and hisses and softly recoils,
Crashing against the green.
The peach-tree braces itself, the pool is frightened,
The grass-blades quiver, the bird is still;
The wall silently struggles against the sunlight;
A terror stiffens the hill.
The trees turn rigidly, to face
Something that circles with slow pace:
The blue pool seems to shrink
From something that slides above its brink.
What struggle is this, ferocious and still--
What war in sunlight on this hill?
What is it creeping to dart
Like a knife-blade at my heart?
It is noontime, Senlin says, and all is tranquil:
The brilliant sky burns over a greenbright earth.
The peach-tree dreams in the sun, the wall is contented.
A bird in the peach-leaves, moving from sun to shadow,
Phrases again his unremembering mirth,
His lazily beautiful, foolish, mechanical mirth.
1.5k
My foggy breath crawls up the inside of my throat
And lunges past my teeth
With a happy turbulence.
Spreading over the crest of the hill,
It graces the treeline with joy
And disappears deep into the forest.
Stags wander through it's remains,
In an absolute nobility
And earthly humility,
As they catch the sound of icy grass beneath my boots
Bounding far, like children who
Imagine creepy-crawlers biting at their feet.
My appearance scatters the sleepy branches
Of somber firs,
And new-born scotch;
Leaving them to dance and flirt
With the timeless frost, suspended in air
Lifted and churned by my foggy breath.
Resting against the mossy logs
Just beyond the treeline,
I watch brittle flakes fall
And blanket a gently robust field with crystal
That comes to a final rest and conclusion.
My day has gone to waste.
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC