"monochromic" poems
Forgive me when I say we are like a candlestick
Frozen in a tapestry of waxen wars
Tilted diagonal on lilted syntax of fears
But we are
Aren't we?
Born with skin of bullets
Metal guns stained with blood
In our little innocent hands
Rumor of war is it?
There is no rumor
For the war already begun in our hearts
Shall we walk the red bloodied carpet of this government
World leaders wearing human bones as a crown
We are walking it
Heads held high and heads in our hands
We will walk it with no shame
No regrets
We have none
For our beliefs is the deceitful armor we wear
We gladly wear it for all to see
No, not the clothes we wear that covers our faces
Letting only our blacken eyes see
No
Not those
Its the deceit I mentioned
We are at war my fr-- nemesis
We are
But I'm not
I don't want to be
I'm trapped you see
Trapped like this candlestick
Stuck in the pain of my tears
I am only a child but they gave me no hope
They killed my family
Replacing love with a metal machine in my hands
I have something to live for now
I am doing what I need to do
Though I feel a tug at night
When all is dark
When it’s my thoughts and I
Memories of real love
Hope
Joy
Peace
But it is dried now
Dried up in this desert sand
Where my boots stained with blood
Leave prints of death
My favorite color is no longer red
Its black
The monochromic war of life stole all beauty from my eyes
So be thankful for your life
Be thankful please
For my heart are pieces of shells from my bullets
Hello I'm six years old
I've lived through more experiences
Then you have in twenty years
What can I say ?
Life IS
What it IS
It just IS, ISn't it?
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 3:30 AM UTC
To live in a place both bright and warm,
On which the art of the heart is reflected in form
But the heart contains shades of the twisted and absane,
From experiences of visceral desire and pain
Casting shadows betraying the walls of this bright place,
Misshapen against the radiant-true worlds face
Opening eyes of men towards their worldward sprawl,
Thus above there lies the heavens in monochromic fall,
Such colourful devastation, to open the hearts of all.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 7:24 AM UTC
here, maybe
they are black
on white
just an outline
of what may be
but stars
are not silhouettes
not here,
not to me
they become 3 dimensional
with every breath
I take
tripping through
the Universe
not every Star will make
me want to breathe
another breath
tip toeing amongst
Poppy fields
I rest
breathing toxic waste
but wait..
the beauty of
your written words
makes me wait
I sit in a field
of unfettered pleasure
getting high
on monochromic doom
Until
you storm the room
and make me see
Shooting stars
treasured art
a part of the Galaxy
*blessed you be
from the start*
shooting across
my night sky
its all I ask
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 6:31 AM UTC
technicolor psychedelic lost realities
kissing cats then and now stupid fantasties
hallucinating white and black invisible fairies
inspiration perspiration a little mushroom tea
falling listening monochromic shades or hues
mind bending red green jaded poets and ingenues
Mar 7, 2022
Mar 7, 2022 at 10:53 PM UTC
Young and nothing to lose,
she is a monochromic innocence
fragmented muse
and delicate to show her inner self.
Blooms and garden of thorns
for you, i am a mirage in storm
the reflections you see through mirror
the silver light glowing through your face.
I am a bright side
with impecabilities
the light you have ever seen
after an infinite darkness.
*I am a song you heard
in your dream*
for you, i am a perfect distraction
in state of clarity.
For you, she could go worse
like an angel at her fall
hunted by fearless shadow
for you, she could be your muse.
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 3:16 AM UTC
March 14, 2016
You wake up,
Every morning a repetition of the one before.
You get out of bed,
Every morning a repetition of the one before.
Every second,
Every minute,
Every hour,
Every day,
Every year,
It's all the same.
It's all one thing after another.
A monochromic picture-book of your life–
each photo looking the same.
That chemical imbalance killing all of the flowers in the vast garden that fills you.
What am I becoming?!
You are whittling into nothing..
Slowly,
Every second,
Every minute,
Every hour,
Every day,
Every year,
It's all falling apart.
You will be nothing soon.
You have convinced yourself that the demolition of one existence can be the cause of a new one.
You are ready to finally let go.
But, what you don't know is that your foundation is much stronger than a thought.
Oh yes, it is.
You will realize soon, though.
Someone,
Something,
Some place,
Will come along.
It will come along and plant a seed in your garden.
It will grow.
It will grow in your brain,
It will grow in in your heart,
It will grow all throughout your body,
It will spread all throughout you until you are a beautiful garden once again.
You will wake up each morning.
You will wake up filled with roses and lilys and tulips,
Your garden expanding each day.
Flowers of all different shapes.
And Sizes.
And Smells.
You are hopeful
and
You are thankful.
You are thankful for the sun,
You are thankful for the water,
You are thankful for the bees
Who gave you a chance.
If it wasn't for them, you wouldn't be the garden you are today.
Thank you for helping me grow.
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 5:36 PM UTC
She saw her world under her feet, crumbling
she allow anything to turn into dust,
she saw her lucky stars, crashing and falling,
her dreams are just daydreams
as her masquerade disintegrating.
She make her flowers bloom,
in a room with gloom,
she saw herself monochromic
on white wall
like a rorschach into her skin.
When her day is plain,
she feels so strange,
as if the tides subside,
it's not beautiful
without the sun's treacherous
shadow that carries the light of moon.
Her mind is a four-trick wheel
like a kaleidoscope spinning in her different shades.
She is the gift of catastrophe,
her secret keeps her real.
You wrap your hands around her,
this injustice won't be seen
but she'll appear as a morning star
if you stare.
You'll see at the end,
the sunlight penetrating her whole
and twilight gnawing the sky.
You'll see at the end,
she's another paradise and burning embers,
she's another midnight and another stranger.
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 5:24 AM UTC