"pegasi" poems
Lavender rainbows in teal green skies
Where all clouds are lined silver
Glittered lakes in powder pink
Feed pastel unicorns with pearlesque horns
Twisted in iridescent beauty
In a land of pretty pegasi
Dreams become reality become dreams
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
I miss your *****
Almost as much as i miss your *******
I want you more than i can comprehend
These perverted thoughts i dont even pretend
Theyre not all i think about all day
Also i can honestly say
I ********** to her
At a massive rate
It blows my mind
How one of a kind
This georgious ******* girl is
Please oh please will ya be my miss
I swear ill be better to you
Than anybody ever you never knew
If you swear down youll be mine
Ill bring you flowers on valentines
Black roses that remind us of death and ****
Ill make sure you are aways well lit
High as a kite you know what i mean?
And dispite of how crazy it seems,
When i do finally greet death,
Hopfully overdosed on some neat ****
I will be embraced by satan himself,
BUT WHAT NO! WHATS THAT BEHIND THE SHELF?!
Out flys a glorious Anni
Chariot pulled by badass pegasi
She pulls out her mighty scabard
Slices and dices the decaying *******
wait wait went off track a bit
That last part...didnt quite fit
But im just obsessing
Seriously not messing
I want you so bad
It makes me so mad
I want you and all of you
Im not queit sure what to do
From there
But i dont care.
My one and only demand
I just want to hold your hand
Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 2:57 PM UTC
A certain innocence fled my soul when you entered it,
Only a few can say what kind.
Little did I know the night you tied me up, it would bound me for life.
The light in your eye flickers unsteadily,
Along with your kindness and chivalry.
If life gave me a clock to do with the hands what I please,
I couldn’t be certain which way I would go.
Questions rise to the surface, breaking the still seas.
And you’re standing on the edge, looking down at someplace you don’t want to be.
With each distant moment,
Each unspoken word;
You get one step closer.
I stood here beside you on this journey.
From the frigid, bleak valleys,
To the sun kissed peaks.
We sailed through red skies on the backs of Pegasi,
Fought demons with double edged blades;
Seemingly to only hurt ourselves...
So I’ll put on a velvet dress and put on a smile,
And you take your pen and your paper and wrong our rights.
But, like an ink stain on velvet, I will never be the same.
But in the end, really, who’s to blame?
Sep 10, 2012
Sep 10, 2012 at 3:03 PM UTC
I dream of a time when I was small
A time where my memories no longer reach
When Memerre was still here
And Jean too
When the weight of the world was light
And snow fell livid in my soul
I dream of the hazy beach sun and those road trips to Kitty hawk
I dream of the colourful array of pegasi
I dream of spring
A time where Rolo ran beside me in the thick grass
I dream of the house on hollywood with it's two stories and pealing paint
There are flickers in my dreams of Matt who was strong and of the Jeep that kept mommy safe
I dream of a time where I didn't know the meaning of the curses that flew in that house
And a time when they weren't directed at me
And I miss it
I miss it all
I miss not knowing which bottle was filled with beer or understanding why mommy acted funny
I miss not knowing what a **** was or how to make one
I miss when Grandad was around
I miss when Caroline was my baby sitter
I miss Cindy and that pool she took us to
I miss my childhood and I hate that it was taken from me
I hate that the curtain was lifted
I hate that I didn't do anything
I hate what happened to me
I hate what happened to us
I hate what I've become
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 7:13 PM UTC
She does not ask for much;
a piece of paper,
a few markers,
time, and a mind at peace.
Her patience is maddening.
Dot by dot,
fantasies form,
sprung from her forehead
fully grown and armed
with the colors she imagines.
Her gray eyes clouded
with concentration,
for every jab of her hand
must strike true,
a felt-tip Seurat.
Her life a study in pointillism, too;
each day filling in
an outline, dark and light
commingled, colored by
those who come and go,
the users and losers,
the bruisers and the healers.
Self-portraits abound;
the smiling face and glowing eyes
she will show the world
painted over the pain
she has known
from loss of blood
and faithless friends.
A word to the wise:
Though her unicorns and pegasi
are strikingly beautiful,
her demons can be quite real.
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC
Agnes:
Wine, for the Greeks, brought more than
burgundy to the screen, instead
illuminant pinks and purples and yellows
swirl and wirl and twirl in orchestrated
dances of Spring.
Cherubim soar, teasingly mocking these gods,
drunk with passion and their grape wine while
pegasi rest, swoop and land like swans to a water’s surface.
Joy and ***** happiness, lovely and sound,
they prance.
In a swirl, in a wirl and in a twirl,
you bring me back to my favorite scene,
when Fantasia was my insight on art
when my mother would sit and watch with me,
instead of busying herself with others.
I had not thought of that in years,
I had not remembered the jolt to my system,
to the system of a little girl, who, often alone
had to create her own art, often had to
imagine her own melodies.
Agnes, you’ve brought the next jolt,
I’m once again flying with the black Pegasus, swooping back
to the dark living room, followed by a stampede of centaurs
cherubim lulling me to sleep,
swirling and wirling and twirling my own colors,
carrying me back to her music.
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 4:20 PM UTC
I drink the fire, let its
Freezing burn slide down
My throat, feel it sting
My open wounds and
Cloud the pathways to
My heart, feel its ineffable
Rage sizzle against the
Backdrop of unsaid woes and
Unwarranted apologies.
I drink the fire
To sacrifice my maddening
Remembrances, to
Focus on the pain in
My throat instead of the
Smoldering in my chest,
To sterilize the *****
Palms of God that can't
Pacify the raging tides
Above my cheeks, to
Cauterize the raw
Wounds that bleed tears
Onto the blackened
Soil of uncertainty.
I drink the fire
To feel sensation, to
Feel something other
Than the colossal
Void, to feel something
Other than the dull
Pangs of your broken
Words, to feel something
That washes away the
Fragile memories I keep, to
Feel the flames ***** at
My skin and blow black
Smoke out of my eyes,
To feel something other
Than the reluctance of
Dragging weeping Pegasi
Across the ground like
Caged birds begging
To be freed.
I drink the fire,
Hoping that you'll
Remember me while
I forget you, hoping
That you'll touch my
Scalded face and
Bleeding lips,
Hoping that you'll
Twist your hands in a
Knot to restrain your
Uneasy urges,
Hoping that you'll
Remember my countenance
As I turn to dusty ash
That twirls like a
Tornado barreling into
The darkened past.
I drink the fire
To forget why I
Fell so hard, sip it
To forget why I
Tumbled like a fool
Over your shattered
Promises, gulp it
To forget that you're
Forever stuck in my
Heaving breath,
Down it to forget
The unbearable fact
That I still love you,
And that I adore
The pain even more.
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 10:08 AM UTC