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Jesse stillwater Jun 2018
a breath of fresh air
tickles still-waters
a lone swan's quill
let fall, takes flight
  carpe  diem ―
nigh weightless,
buoyantly skitters
across the water,
laissez faire;
barely dimpling
the shallow peace
on a lake in the wood

a wild feather's
mindless pirouettes
emanate from
the steeping silence
lapping  its
superficial  refection  

the true nature
of wildness,
unspoken freedom,
an untamed
wilder – ness
skims the skinny waters
seeking their own level;
leaving no trace
of  ever being  containable
 
like a breath of fresh air
reinvigorates
unconquerable souls
touching in the
conscious moment ―
a gentle passing breeze
arousing a rogue gust


Jesse Stillwater

01    June   2018
Thank you for stopping to read my soul scribbles :)
Nikita May 2015
The waves moving in and out like a goddess stroking the sand
The clouds rolling across the sky with ease
The bright sun warming us up for the cold water
The beach is my favorite place
Especially when the red and purple is painted across the sky like a visual lullaby
When the air turns crisp
When sky fades into darkness
And you can see the refection of stars shining off the gentle water ⭐
❇❇❇❇
Where I'd rather be
Poetic T Mar 2017
Suppressed recollections
play upon the strings of my impressions,
that are fractured confirmations
of where my mind is flowing,
                             upwards
to the vault of all my beginnings.

There is a stalk that wonders aimlessly
within the crevasses of all that flows,
sustaining on the occasions that were
never meant to be its leaves deprived
of all worthwhile emotions.

Separate from what weaves above,
a solitary refection whispers against
the tide of the beginnings, floating with
the progressive clear thought.
Zintle Thusie May 2014
I search my reflection        
Which I suppose represents my emotion
In turn a darkness stares back at me
I see a stranger, who looks like me
Grumpy without a hint of a smile
Only anger and bitterness is willing to shine
Refusing to reconcile with my siblings
Thinking they are absurd with they own living
Yet...
While my most hurtful feelings are being expressed their determination ,shows me lam being heard.  
Now m left with these Mixed emotions which don't appear in my refection
Who am ?
Stranger wispered
I am the me you will never get to be!
I am a poet and I understand the power of Words.
kenzi joy Apr 2012
You transformed my freckled neck

Into a strawberry field

Last night
Transplanting puckered lips
Into planting pink rosy kisses
Across my skin
And down my chest
Like
Cherry blossom petals that

We picked

Because we  
Just don't believe that they could be
Anything more
That how they feel right now

Its too inconceivable for us
Its too contrived   


I mean
Its like
Trying to grow candy apple love
In greenhouses
Or just houses 

Painted green
With synthetic sunbeams
And pesticide ridden wishing seeds
Planted with high doses of expectations
And fertilized by things like
Movie Scripted
Kissing in the rain

And all the other high fructose corn-syrup cliches
That only let you come down
When your brain washed loving
Is washed from lusting
Trusting only the sunlight
Rising in the morning
On a clear day
Because thats when you can see
Whats real and fake

But it doesn't matter

Because we just don't believe in things like that
Its to synthetic
For starry eyes filled with falling satellites
When its still too cold for sunshine


So we
Just believe in things like
Twisting our tongues 
for the fun
Of seeing
How quickly we come undone
When we touch

And breathing

Out then in and in again
Breathing uneven breathes
Into each others mouths
To feel what its like
To come to life
Then let it go again

And we always
Always
Color outside
The rib cage lines

(and heres why)

Because ribs
Keep people out of our hearts

And cages
Keep us out of their

And lines
*******

Lines are for strictly straight people
Who can only see one side to everything
And everyone
Knows
Rules were meant to be broken
And lines were meant to be crossed

Cross eyed
Crooked teeth

That can never be bent back straight
Or scraped pearly clean of
Imperfection
Because they are already
In perfection
Everyone is just too blinded
From staring into the sun
To see it right now

But tonight
Tonight
We are two crooked lines
In a foreign vineyards of twisted grape vines

Fermenting into a wine sweeter than our lips
And we fit
Together
Like two broken puzzle pieces
That wont ever complete each other
And you know what

That's ok

You are not my missing piece
And I am not yours
Because we are not
Puzzles
We are people
And puzzles are just broken paintings
To be put back together
And we are not broken
There’s no completion left

To who we are
We are infinite
Never ending in our potential
Never lacking in what's essential
All we are doing is adding colors
To each other

And tonight
You color me inside out

Crossing every line on my skin
With you paint brush lips
Like strawberry red rows of
Red wine
Dipped lips
Planting painted
Red lipstick kisses
In each others mouths
The way
Sweet-bay Magnolia petals
Are pictured in puddles
When they look down
Seeing their own refection
And letting themselves fall
Getting bruised by the gravel
We are each both petals and pavement
When we fall into each other
Tonight
And I remember one night
A while ago
We found an old telescope
Made out of plastic
With this incredibly inaccurate scope
That focused in sudden little jults
And it took us forever to find the moon
But when we did
And zoomed in
With one eye squinted
You
Looked up
To the night sky
And I
Have never seen anything like

The way the moon filled your eyes with stars
After you peered into each others faces


All the way across the atmospheric dimension
Sendings whispered apprehensions  

Of a pretentious existences into each others eyes
Every line had a wink at the end
And every wink had
A sly smile in between the chimney and the roof

So heres a little truth

Sometimes I wish that we
Could telescope each others sunsets
And find our own sunrises in each others eyes
Behind every blink
Orbiting

Fixed fastly to this axis
Through outer space time lapsing
Across boarder lines
Even though 
I know
We already beam every time we see each other
Like spring sunshine on icicles dripping drops down to
Oil spilled rainbows

We bowed our selves

From the glowing belly
Of our laughter induced paintings
Coloring waves of light
Overlapping though space

Traveling
Faster than the speed of sound
In our own directions
But our travels are soundly set
To inter-exist in this second
And I dont want to let go yet

But I will
Because we cant believe in things like this
It too much risk  to trust the
Daffodils blooming in the brisk
Frosty March mornings
Between bits of icy earth

So we pick them
And put them in little jars with stones
In our kitchen
And smile every time we walk by
I dont even really know why actually
I guess

They are just so pretty
And they smell nice too

Right next to the stems of
The white cherry blossoms
Which bend across our wooden window sill
Next to our sudsy little sink
And we know
That they wont grow anymore
After this
That this is their only glimmer
Of existence
So we hold them close
But time alway slip through our finger tips
Letting go
Of what we cant hold on to
Pulled farther apart
And I havent seen you 
In a while

The other night

I tried to telescope your eyes
Across boarded boarder lines
But I couldn't find you in the skies
And the moon only winked in my direction
Leaving me

To plant wishing seeds

In the ashes of 

Every wished on fallen satellite
I could find
Grown
In green houses

When its still to cold for sunshine
On a clear day
I still wish
That maybe
After
You’ve cleared away all the dead daffodils
From our dusty windowsill
And planted a orchard of candy apples
In the ribs of your new lover

That it will still make you smile
Every time you see
Sweet-bay magnolia petals bruised by gravel
And it reminds you of me


                                    The End.
Poetic T Sep 2014
For they are shrouded
All the places a face seen,
Now draped over
To hide that face,
It wants my
Reflection,
Image,
Darkness
Surrounds it, hands held out,
Wanting the light,
To escape the darkness
Refection on a darkened day,
Like a black pool,
Wanting to drown my soul within,
"I cover the mirrors"
Windows boarded
Never to
Reflect
Light
Features
Not wanting to be seen
For in that reflective pool
It wants to drown me
Swallow my soul, suffocate me *within..
Poetic T Apr 2014
I look in to the mirror of
tomorrow, and see what
my future self is like, a
moment to see what has
shaped my life.

To see those moments that
made me young with a smile
spread across my face, but
the moments that aged me
for longer that what youth got back.

I look at my reflection of a
future me, and its me really
looking back at my youth
remembering what I was like.

Those moments I cant change
like my refection as glimpse of
a past a future moments, which
cant change just a refection
of my life.
Sadie Sep 2015
Bottom of the bottle,
end of the ninth.
Come out darkness
      into the light
Trying to find out what is right
kiss me kiss me kiss me
make you miss me.
Your messages are coming through
      but I'm switching channels.
I think I'm holding the remote,
but the pain is like a moat.
Nobody's getting to me
      (nobody nobody nobody nobody)
Not 'til I say it's to be.
I hold out for hope I'll catch you soon
Lord knows I've killed myself
       enough for the chance.
Once you found a needle in your shirt,
it became the knife in my back.
You wanted me angry, spiteful, violent
      (it would've made it easier for you)
You didn't expect my kiss.
       my love, my amorous feelings, my admiration
      longing and heartbreak.
You broke my heart in place
But I was the one who walked away.
I was drinking, and it was 3 days after my breakup.
Copyright @ Sadie Whitney
Earl Jane Sep 2015
.


(Earl Jane)

Oh my sweetest king,
You’re an angel that God sent,
You’ve saved me from darkness!

You’ve illuminated my somber world,
And limn rainbows,
I’m in total wonderment.

You’ve colored my dark eyes,
Lustrous hue of love and care,
Oh how astounding!

Oh my King,
You are my greatest blessing,
Interminable bliss!

Oh my King,
These arms yearn for your warmth,
And feel each of your heartbeat.

I’m thirsty my King,
Come closer and closer dear,
Quench me with your kisses.

Oh my King,
How I want to stare at your eyes,
They carry me to paradise!

Your voice calling me,
Enkindled this slumbered love,
I’m lavishing them all to you.

I’ll meet you so soon,
Enfold you eternally,
And will never let you go.

I’ll clasp your hand tight,
And will present you to the world,
That you are my KING!

How I long to watch you dearly,
While you are in your deep sleep,
And will wake you with my kiss.

I’ll be your nurse,
When you are sick and weak,
I’m so fain to take care of you!

I will to cook for you,
And will feed you as you to me,
How wonderful that would be!

I will rest my head in your chest,
And feel your arms wrapping around me,
My best solace!

I will sing for you my King,
Endlessly with my willing heart,
Just to make you gleeful and at peace.

I’ll dance you,
With the rhythm of my love,
Eternally under the moonlight glow.

Your celestial face I desire to touch,
And will expatiate my love for you,
Face to face, with my eyes affix on yours.

I will wait, my King,
Even forever for you,
You’re all that I need.

Fear no more my King,
For I will never leave you,
I will always be by your side.






(Brandon)

O' Queen, mine amour'
Blossom of faraway world's;
Thou hath given me life.

Thou hath illumined mine being
Thou hath lifted away mine sting;
I'm in awe from thine selflessness.

In mine sight
Thou hath shown me a might;
And power in thine delight.

O' mine other half
Thou art mine wondrous rose;
I'm beholden as thine own, in thine presence I glow.

O' mine sovereign
Gold of the creator's streets;
Ancient treasure of mystical lantern's.

Im parched mine lass
Cometh near, drench me fast;
With thine tounge to caress the smile I hath.

O' mine ecstasy
How I needeth thee next to me;
To effect me with thine lip's, so succulent.

Tis, yes I do calleth thee
Mine amare for thineself scream's;
I'll enter thy dream's, and caress thine anguish.

We shalt cometh together
Under the moon, and tropical weather;
Floating aloft, Filipino feather's.

I shalt locketh with thine finger's
With a ring upon it, I shalt put;
Whilst the universe watches ourn openess
Hell shalt tremble by ourn book.

I shalt be thine doctor
To shocketh thy heart back to Animation;
Two angelic's guiding another, both Jehovah's patient's.

I shalt prepare for thee
Home cooked refection;
Southern, and northern confection's.

I shalt wrappeth mine arm's
Over thine hip's;
As mine leg's over thine own, blanket's we shalt between grip.

I shalt recite poetry for thee dove
Blessing's of thine hug's
Giveth me perfection.

I wilt sway in way's of the deep
Thine tear's no more shalt weep;
And swept on feet's, we swoon.

Thine eyelid's I wilt Pierce
Into thine rib's mine own mirror;
Seeing mineself slip into.

I wilt rest
Until the day;
We do cometh, in contact of ourn skin's way's.

O' sweet queen Jane
Sleep mine love;
When thou shalt waketh, I'll be next to thee mine flowering bud.



© Earl Jane - Brandon Collaborations
♥ Lovers Incorporated
my first collab with my king Brandon<3 <3
He was so amazing in writing this.. well, my writing are so normal and ******., sorry about that...
Terry Collett May 2013
Sister Elizabeth looks
out of window. No mirror.
Self unseen. Image only

Imagined.  Pushes window
Outward, breathes air,
morning fresh, birdsong

From mulberry tree, old
still there. The cloister
Below, the red brick, arches,

Walls, no nun in sight.
At Matins eyes hard to
keep open, stifled yawns,

Chanted from memory, Latin
Words on page a dull blur.
Wonder how father is?

Aged now, pains most days.
She sniffs the air, breathes
in, tastes fresh air on tongue.

She places a hand behind
the pane of glass of window.
Her refection seen there.

Sin of sin. Vanity of vanities.
She looks at her refection.
Seen. Takes her hand away.

Makes sign of the cross.  
Bell tolls. Bell tower across
the way. Who rings? Which

Sister? Lauds soon. Chants
And prayers. She fingers her
cowl, brushes nose, eyelids.

She looks away from window.
Cell tidy. Books put in shelves.
Crucifix on wall above bed.

Wooden and aged. Plaster
Christ, pinned by small nails
through hands. Mother bought

Her her first rosary. White, small,
silver cross and Christ. Mother
taught to say rosary. Word for

Word. Mother cancer eaten.
Prayers offered. She moves to
the door, goes out. Passageway

Clear. None is there. She closes
her cell door. Puts hands away
In her black habit. Walks, muses,

Silent prayers. Down the stairs,
as taught, slow but careful, not
to rush, no running.  Into the

Cloister, morning sunlight touches
cloister wall and floor. Flowers
in flower bed by cloister wall,

Well tended, watered. Fingers
Rosary, thumb over the body
of Christ, rubs, smooth with

Rubbing. Goes by the refectory
door, smells of coffee, warm
Bread. On by the stairs to upper

Landings. Sister Francis by cloister
wall eyes closed, lips moving,
hands together. passes by, notes

White hands, fingers touching.
Smell of incense from church,
enters, fingers stoup, holy water,

Touches forehead, makes sign
Of Christ, moves into church,
genuflects, enters choir stalls,

Takes place. Stands till closes
Eyes, sees the image of herself
In window mirror reflected face.
Pauline Morris Feb 2016
I was very cautious
I knew if I wasn't what it would cost us
I made sure the bedroom was perfect
I wanted MY romantic affect
I hung the plastic, then the curtains
Bed exactly in the middle, I had to be certain
Lit a few candles
Then sliped on my dress, and my sandals

I cruise the street
For my baby to meet
I pick him up at the corner
My heart beats faster, my body warmer
We go back to my house
Where we start to mess about
I lead you to my bedroom
We'll be making love soon

To my bed you are shackled
You have no idea of my feeling of hackles
Straddling you, and ridding you like a horse
All the wail your loving it of course

With you still in me, I bring out my toys
They are only for my collection of boys

They are bright and shiny
I will not treat you kindly
They are so sharp they can split a hair
And in their refection you just stare
You can't believe what you see
As the look on my face is pure glee

You body starts to convulse and thrash
Then with my blades I start to slash
I plunge my toy in
With the evilest grin
I love the squirting gushing sound
It's all so profound

I have loved all my men
That's why I let no one chase  them
Forever in death they are mine
I'm one of a kind

I slash him to ribbons
It's as fun as the dickens
He's still alive
And feels every vibe
Covered in blood
Our bodies fit like a glove

I slowly climb off top
And lop of his part
Blood sprays the room
Death will be here soon

I'm so happy I made it romantic
And taped up the plastic
I'm the Black Spider
I **** all I desire
Poetic T Jun 2020
In this place where we lived there were
no doors, every room had a mirror.
            A reflection of what was, is.

And each was unique to the observation
that was seen beyond the tinted
                                            frame of creation.

                  Some places were, could be,
not a complete reflection of what was
contorted and beyond the conciseness
                                           of tangibility.

For some places were either hairline fractured,
on purpose or by mistake, most of these had
                                                                ­ warnings.
            
                         "REALITY DERUTCARF RETNE TON OD,

All who entered these were doing so at there
                                         own health and life..

Some did it for the buzz,  some weren't lucky..
         The Mirror Collective,
that's a posh word for reflective reconstitutes.

Ladies and gents that fixed the flaws,
                         fragmented reflections that
could lead to either two version of reality..

An obituary of an abattoir,  
where the breaks even though hairline
were like papercuts on the flesh.
                   And where they stood is where
the pieces collected upon each other..

Some rooms were purposely fractured,
           for those who broke the rules
were kept in shard rooms..
     These were places where others of less
reputable reflections were kept.


                             Solitary confinement,
there was just a jagged piece of mirror left,
enough space for a paper plate to be left.
Once there sentence was completed  
           The mirror collective would be called
to reconstitute the whole mirror..

If they were of sound constitution, not mad...
          
Then they were reintegrated in to the society..
                                  What they didn't realise is
the lights of different frequencies
were purposely shone within there room.
            Nearly all were unseen to the eye,
but were used to program them,
sublimely to have a more compatible persona.  

Me I wants like those others, my reflection was
                  always polished. I would enter
a reflection and be the person who'd stepped
through a moment before.

We were a society mirrored on the refection
that everything was meant to be perfect.

         But what we didn't realise that
every refection is distorted no matter how
                              perfect we think it is.

And the perfection we looked upon,
             was cracked beyond our contemplation.
We were just slaves to the mirror of our own
                                                                ­              egos..



But what ever you do don't look at the refection
staring behind you,
                        you looked....

                                                     ­          I'm sorry.....
Chloe Habig Aug 2019
When I look into the mirror,
I see a girl with high hopes, yet broken dreams-
A girl who hides behind a mask,
which deems to be happy and sane.
But underneath,
a small girl lays.
Frantically giggling at the mess of her refection.
She stares with innocent eyes
and a smirk on her face and mouths
failure
dragging me into the mirror, she waltzes around my feeble body
chanting in circles
failure, failure, failure
each time getting louder
failure
she steps closer
failure
she grips my shoulder and laughs into my ear
failure
shivers run up my spine
I know it's true
the lights go black leaving me with the cacophony of silence
the word still lingering in my mind
failure
Poetic T May 2016
Her father always thought the best,
but a secret lied behind her perfect façade.
Needle,
thread,
puncture
wounds in-between toes to hide the deeds
that were done. she was delirious in actions
as in the woods she wondered
trails
illusions
thoughts
not of a lucid mind was opened up.
Her father thinking the worst searched
in vain for her beauty. But a castle unknown
came into view, as he wondered in thinking
she had sought shelter in the beleaguered place
"Beauty,
He spoke but not a noise was uttered, nor a breath
could be heard. He lingered in views of stately rooms,
how had this place never been seen.
Truth of thought has a funny way of seeking those
who unwittingly pursue its need. As in to a bleak
and dark room he stood, he lit the light with flame
in hand. A crunch underfoot echoed through out,
cloth,
bone,
skulls
littered the expanse of this room. Gnawing marks
of teeth clenched deep, but others yet
to decay. Like rag dolls used as some form
of twisted play things, fear etched in there
features as death granted them a moment of
relief from what used them as a novelty before
that final laceration ended there breath.
Digust,
Horror,
Fear
as he yearned to leave such a place of
lingering death. When appeared young beauty
Worse for wear, father what are you doing in such
a place? I looked for you as it's been two days.
But then without forewarning its cold
hands clasped around her fathers throat.
Heed my warning as death waits for your father,
for things he wondered upon must never be spoke.
Beauty stepped back, her hand grasping the handle
But it was already sealed, the mirror on the wall did
utter,
proclaim,
announce
that the door was not opening as the key
was but a refection of self. With that she threw her shoe,
Its heal shattered the reflective aura and it bleed reflection
upon the surrounding area. With but an action the fathers
neck was but a twig snapped in haste.
His cry was pitiful and last words expelled "Why,
Beauty ran through the garden roses cutting her
with there thorns, her legs weeping she became faint.
"Awaken,
"arouse,
stimulate
oneself before my patience carves seconds in your
subtle flesh. Startled and not in denial of
What was craved, but nothing could coax her
from this debilitating feeling.
She arose, shivering, sweating, it took this
as unbridled fear. But beauty feared no one
she had done, seen things to coax a next high.

"Do you not morn the falling of your father girl,

"He was nearly of his time,
"We all kiss the thorns the rose never stays fresh long,  

A strange look happened upon his sunken eyes,
You are not like any other I have guested here
at my beckoning before. Due to your fathers sight,
you are a guest of no leaving, a bed is made,
wearing's of your taste are in the wardrobe.

Whispers clung to the walls as face ebbed upon
her hearing dinner is served madam,

"What the hell are you,
"Were those within the walls,
"Hurry up miss he doesn't like waiting,

Upon the long table did vast meals endorse,
eat up, have your fill.
With appetite in her eyes she lusted after such
morsels never had such graced her homeward plate.

"Why do you linger in this place,

"I'm cursed with in these walls, gardens
once I permitted my self importance and
walked beyond the chimes of my gates arch
and now my features  are what your eyes linger on,


Silence decorated the room after that, as neither
did ask any unwarranted words expelling out,
His eyes lingered on here beauty, could she be that
which could undo this curse of vanities misgivings.  

Time passed her sweats had past her cramps
that were like a thousand knifes within her
veins calmed and she made the most of this place.
Walks upon freshly cut hedges, these little
Fixtures of horror jagged glasses that
would slit a wrist with a wrongful gesture now
seemed harmless enough.

But as though opposites did attract and
yearning for company other than self.
She took walks upon the gardens,
In disrepair was one such place and what
seemed like roses was something else.

"What are you doing here,

As her breath hassened, and thoughts consumed
of what could be. But clean she had been for
going on months and days.
But the earge grew as night turned to morning,
she loved him but was this enogh for
the kiss of this old friend was once so sweet.

He knew in his heart he had changed no longer feeding
on the flesh of mortal men, he had mirrored his
thoughts of loves bloom on his heart.
But could one love someone this hideous in features
only this moment would tell.

"Beauty, I have something to mention,

But the house was silent the features on the walls
ascended through out to find the beauty that
meant so much to all that were apart of this house.

Not a single breath was found,
neither by shadow or mouse. Had she left?
No why now, her heart was entwined
with his but he could not feel her essence
no beat was echoing out.

"My beauty, my love,

Moments past as a scent was picked up,
But it was not of life but of decay.
He found her with the needle cracked on the floor,
Her features of
bliss,
horror,
death
was her lover now, and it taken her away.
He saw a note scrunched in her hand,
he read it out in thoughts he was lost,

"My darling beast,

"I have noted your thoughts towards me,
and I lingered on them as I must.
But you are a beast and only for life
did I do as I must.
I was dead inside when you were upon me,
my yearning or horror I hide in lust.
I could not escape you, eye were upon
me even in sleep I was never alone such mistrust.
So now I leave this place a free woman.
not in love, not in fear, in life I was a prisoner
but in death I am a free bird no longer an empty husk,*


He reeled in disbelief at what her words spelt out,
Was he truly that horrifying even to touch.
he held her in his arms, carried her to the gate,
and looked into the distance seeing the sun setting
He raised a hand a cleft her heart out.

"You took this from me world, but I take it back,

He threw her to the dogs that waited eagerly
for flesh, they had not fed on this delicacy
for so long, While she was here no one was to touch.
In heartache he walked to the arch and carried on straight.
His figure was contorted and with one final out spelling
of grief he was consumed in embers then gone to ash.

All who had fallen from grace when he was made
beast returned to normal form. But happiness
was a short miracle , for all were of sin for what
had taken place, behind walls and doors as
all were consumed and the palace of a king
now burnt like the sun set. Only gardens and
ashes were a testament of what was. But love was
never a happy ending when a persons true features
were surfaced, how can you see past that to true love.
makeloveandtea Mar 2016
She always looked at herself in the mirror as if she was looking at a familiar stranger. She would never know what to say or how much eye contact to make and so, she would look at her arms instead and tug at her clothes in haste.

But she always noticed something uncommon in the refection of herself in her eyes. It was very different, the way she looked at her like as if she knew more than anybody has ever known about her. But they did not know each other for long. Two weeks they spent together when she was visiting Verona and after that, four months of writing letters to each other. "I woke up thinking of you this morning. The walls reminded me of you, my feet on the floor felt like my skin against yours and even my coffee tasted of you." she once wrote in a letter and those were the most beautiful words anyone had ever thought about her. She found herself melting into her words, those deep eyes and just her existence but she would never let her know; she would hardly admit it to herself. "Darling, people are abstract. The things that you love about me might not be a part of what makes me tomorrow." she would remind her, every time.

Most times she would read the letters over and over again. Some parts even more than the others like this one, "Weddings are such beatific affairs, apart from the moulding uncles, aunts and their unhappy looking partners, dwelling in their grey clouds of eternal loathing. Except that, I love weddings. I danced all night at Patric's reception last night and oh, you know how I can't dance without breaking a bone or two; you saw me that night outside Al Pompiere. Turns out, I dance fantastically once I have a bottle of Sauvignon blanc in my system! My love, how I wish you were there with me at the joyous occasion. Also, I dreamt of you in a white wedding dress, while I sat alone when the music was soft and all the lovers danced unaware of realities, as if in a state of hypnosis. My dear, I could die in that moment for I had seen in my mind the most incomparably magnificent imagination." She always felt unsure of how she exactly felt about those words and how she would reply to that letter. She might have told her that it was sweet of her to write those words but she knew that she felt so much more than that. She had never imagined herself in a wedding dress before and that evening after reading her letter, she closed her eyes and she pictured herself in a white gown and it was as if she grew in her thoughts and her mind opened up to new possibilities that scared but excited her. She made her feel like she was introducing her to herself and that now every time she looked in the mirror she saw a little more of her each time.

She was dusting her bookshelf when her letter arrived that afternoon. She sat on the couch, cross legged while she very patiently opened the envelope, unfolded the paper and started to read. She sounded disheartened and melancholic. "It is not that my love for you depends on the feelings that you reciprocate or that what I feel is conditional but my love, when I was sitting at the coffee shop today going through the letters you have written to me over time, I saw them as if with new eyes. I felt like you were so disconnected. Each one sounded like you were forcing the words onto the paper. Darling, your words lacked you in them, it lacked the meaning that I have seen in your eyes therefore I know for sure that it exists but I am in a state of confusion and paranoia. My mind is consumed in thoughts that you don't trust me yet and that you think I am one of those people that you talk about who call you pretty. On the other hand I wonder, then why would you keep writing to me after every letter I sent you? I don't know what is going on in that fascinating mind of yours but love, do you feel like you are wasting your time on me? I wonder, if you do think that then am I wasting my time? I feel disorientated today...but I hope I find clarity in the next letter you send me."

That was the last letter that she ever sent her and she never replied to it. She overdosed on her antipsychotic medication , the night after she received the letter. They found her in her bedroom midst a pile of journals, clothes and painted canvas boards. They also found several letters that she wrote to herself and replies to the letters that she sent to her own address, as if she was talking to herself.

She always looked at herself in the mirror as if she was looking at a familiar stranger. But she always noticed something uncommon in the refection of herself in, her own eyes.
brandon nagley Sep 2015
( Jane)
Oh my sweetest king,
You’re an angel that God sent,
You’ve saved me from darkness!

You’ve illuminated my somber world,
And limn rainbows,
I’m in total wonderment.

You’ve colored my dark eyes,
Lustrous hue of love and care,
Oh how astounding!

Oh my King,
You are my greatest blessing,
Interminable bliss!

Oh my King,
These arms yearns for your warmth,
And feel each of your heartbeat.

I’m thirsty my King,
Come closer and closer dear,
Quench me with your kisses.

Oh my King,
How I want to stare at your eyes,
They carry me to paradise!

Your voice calling me,
Enkindled this slumbered love,
I’m lavishing them all to you.

I’ll meet you so soon,
Enfold you eternally,
And will never let you go.

I’ll clasp your hand tight,
And will present you to the world,
That you are my KING!
How I long to watch you dearly,
While you are in your deep sleep,
And will wake you with my kiss.

I’ll be your nurse,
When you are sick and weak,
I’m so fain to take care of you!

I will to cook for you,
And will feed you as you to me,
How wonderful that would be!

I will rest my head in your chest,
And feel your arms wrapping around me,
My best solace!

I will sing for you my King,
Endlessly with my willing heart,
Just to make you gleeful and at peace.

I’ll dance you,
With the rhythm of my love,
Eternally under the moonlight glow.

Your celestial face I desire to touch,
And will expatiate my love for you,
Face to face, with my eyes affix on yours.

I will wait, my King,
Even forever for you,
You’re all that I need.

Fear no more my King,
For I will never leave you,
I will always be by your side.

( me, Brandon)

O' Queen, mine amour'
Blossom of faraway world's;
Thou hath given me life.

Thou hath illumined mine being
Thou hath lifted away mine sting;
I'm in awe from thine selflessness.

In mine sight
Thou hath shown me a might;
And power in thine delight.

O' mine other half
Thou art mine wondrous rose;
I'm beholden as thine own, in thine presence I glow.

O' mine sovereign
Gold of the creator's streets;
Ancient treasure of mystical lantern's.

Im parched mine lass
Cometh near, drench me fast;
With thine tounge to caress the smile I hath.

O' mine ecstasy
How I needeth thee next to me;
To effect me with thine lip's, so succulent.

Tis, yes I do calleth thee
Mine amare for thineself scream's;
I'll enter thy dream's, and caress thine anguish.

We shalt cometh together
Under the moon, and tropical weather;
Floating aloft, Filipino feather's.

I shalt locketh with thine finger's
With a ring upon it, I shalt put;
Whilst the universe watches ourn openess
Hell shalt tremble by ourn book.

I shalt be thine doctor
To shocketh thy heart back to Animation;
Two angelic's guiding another, both Jehovah's patient's.

I shalt prepare for thee
Home cooked refection;
Southern, and northern confection's.

I shalt wrappeth mine arm's
Over thine hip's;
As mine leg's over thine own, blanket's we shalt between grip.

I shalt recite poetry for thee dove
Blessing's of thine hug's
Giveth me perfection.

I wilt sway in way's of the deep
Thine tear's no more shalt weep;
And swept on feet's, we swoon.

Thine eyelid's I wilt Pierce
Into thine rib's mine own mirror;
Seeing mineself slip into.

I wilt rest
Until the day;
We do cometh, in contact of ourn skin's way's.

O' sweet queen Jane
Sleep mine love;
When thou shalt waketh, I'll be next to thee mine flowering bud.


©Brandon nagley/Earl Jane nagley collaboration...
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Sarina Nov 2012
Tomorrow morning, I will be your
      ghost again
            breathing salt into the
    wounds God left you healing.

                    Refection of
a flame that gives mist
     and winglets paling, I have
        arms that give night to girls
I have saliva that rises any deadman.

    Solstice, when do
  the dawns stop chilling? When
                 does warmth grow?

    Winter has had enough,
checking into a glass motel room:
                                  break the floor
    and call on a waitress to pick
it back up.

             I watch you sterilized
   perceived the tip of the iceburg
                            like a gift –

you must be leaving, sir, and
           get better once again.
                 before God pulls you in
        white’s chilly, and the morning is.
Pauline Morris Aug 2016
I was very cautious
I knew if I wasn't what it would cost us
I made sure the bedroom was perfect
I wanted MY romantic affect
I hung the plastic, then the curtains
Bed exactly in the middle, I had to be certain
Lit a few candles
Then sliped on my dress, and my sandals

I cruise the street
For my baby to meet
I pick him up at the corner
My heart beats faster, my body warmer
We go back to my house
Where we start to mess about
I lead you to my bedroom
We'll be making love soon

To my bed you are shackled
You have no idea of my feeling of hackles
Straddling you, and ridding you like a horse
All the wail your loving it of course

With you still in me, I bring out my toys
They are only for my collection of boys

They are bright and shiny
I will not treat you kindly
They are so sharp they can split a hair
And in their refection you just stare
You can't believe what you see
As the look on my face is pure glee

You body starts to convulse and thrash
Then with my blades I start to slash
I plunge my toy in
With the evilest grin
I love the squirting gushing sound
It's all so profound

I have loved all my men
That's why I let no one chase them
Forever in death they are mine
I'm one of a kind

I slash him to ribbons
It's as fun as the dickens
He's still alive
And feels every vibe
Covered in blood
Our bodies fit like a glove

I slowly climb off top
And lop of his part
Blood sprays the room
Death will be here soon

I'm so happy I made it romantic
And taped up the plastic
I am the Black Spider
I **** all I desire
Michael Ryan Dec 2012
I could never tear my flesh
never see the flood begin to spread
I could never be numb
never letting pain subside
I could never spread my feelings
never truly telling how deeply I burn

I can walk in the realm I deserve
can punish myself for how I feel
I can bruise my body and bellow it's contents
can punish oneself to reach my ends

Seeking for a hand bruised as badly as mine
seeing only a refection
Seeking a twist to turn this plot
seeing the end I envision finally change

I turn to the shower to fine pain
turning to sleep to never forget
I turn to people for rejection
turning to sleep to never remember

Tonight is not a night I will forget.
nor will my flesh as I begin to bleed.
"Leaving Las Vegas" is a movie where the main character slowly kills himself.
Terry Collett Oct 2013
You could hear her
calling your name
along the passage
her Polish kind

of broken English
was unmistakable
you hid by the sink
of Mr Atkinson's room

the other side
of the panel
which hid you
from view

from the door
Benedict are you up here?
Sophia called
you leaned back

as far as you could
in case she should
open the door
and peer in

you could hear
her flip-flops
on the linoleum floor
I want you

she said
want you
speak to me
you noticed Mr Atkinson's

Rupert annual
on the dresser
across the room
(he had a child's mind

and loved those books)
you also noticed
a glimpse of your refection
in the dresser's mirror

black trousers
white coat
red tie
and white shirt

she'd stopped outside
the door of Mr Cutler's room
she knocked
and opened

Benedict are you here?
no
you whispered
in undertone voice

where the **** are you?
you heard her say
she closed Mr Cutler's door
and waited outside

the room you were in
you sensed her breathing
her tap tap on the door
you squeezed yourself

hard against the sink
last time she'd caught you
up here on the old men's wing
she had you

on Mr Haymaker's bed
her slim 19 year old body
wrapped about you
her blonde hair tied

in a black bow
her body saying
go go go
Benedict are you here?

you shook your head
hands behind your back
your backside pushed hard
against the enamel sink

I want talk to you
she said
she opened the door
and looked in

out of the window opposite
you you could see trees
swaying in the breeze
the sky grey blue

she came into the room
and picked up
the Rupert annual
from the dresser

you saw her blue uniform
the back of her slim body
the narrowed waist
the shapely backside

the well shaped legs
her blonde hair
tied at the back
with the familiar ribbon

you bit your lip
and held your breath
she scanned through
the annual

flicking pages
gazing at pictures
if she gazed
in the dresser mirror

she'd see your reflection
Benedict
she said to herself
I've red underwear on

you stopped breathing
stared at her back
the way she stood
she put down

the annual
on the dresser
retreated back out
of the room

not turning to look
around the room
the door closed
you heard her flip-flops

move away
along the passageway
no one would believe you
if you told them

and whatever they may say
you had escaped
from Sophia
for another day.
SET IN AN OLD FOLKS HOME IN 1969.
andy fardell Oct 2014
The bar was filled with the matchstick people
Thin,thick ,tall and some fat
Doing what they did last week
And the week before
Maybe even the year before that
So my shiver told me

Wine,red cold and nasty
Dribbled down this unopened jaw
Trying to escape my wanted lips
As I watched them
Yes there I sat mocking and thinking
Is all the that

Strange as I see them
My smile could not come
For I felt in their sorrow a life almost done
Accepted for society this pleasure for hard work
The drinking game a folly that hides a life of dirge

Yet leaning back on the creaked out chair ,I swallowed
The wine now warm,felt fuzzy and inviting
Contemplating life,my mind raced  
I could never be a matchstick
The box would never take me ,nor I want to fit

My time had come,
Up I stood ,yet no one noticed me,no one cared
With my glass half full I left
Out I walked
Into life,into the open
My glasses bore a fired refection,as I turned
I could see them burning  
Deep within I knew that all matches fade away to nothing
Oh the shiver
Why can't my liver filter thoughts like it does with alcohol?

It would save me the trouble of all the money I've spent to free myself of bad decisions,

There is so much formality within a sober moment, while my drunkenness speaks freely,

My brain doesn't erase moments like alcohol does, yet my liver puts up a fight reminding me to think,

Fantasizing over an image created by theses slurred and blurred overzealous eyes,

I am attracted to bars like teachers are to mls style, and to this day I'm still not sure which one has been more beneficial.

Looking down the road of allowing glass, I measured my state of mind to pick my poison,

Tequila adds a flower to a withering soul, ***** snuffs out the light where it gets to bold, whiskey fakes the fight with its bros, while gin loosens the bones and wine your emotions, at last we have beer a truth serum more powerful than love,

What they all take is feeling, a small price to learning what we see in the refection is really something we refuse to collude with.

My liver is always amazed, the amount of control I give to it, whilst the hand with a drink in it stays steady,

The other acquires shame, controlled by a freedom of released inhibitions,

If I could escape the safety of the dinner lights for the missing love that I thought drive me here,

My liver is alone, in the battle, like one soldier who's realized that their command center threw them into a death trap and their enemies are mindless zombies of fallen memories,

My toast is not alone, followed by smiles and condolences, significant enough to convince everyone, maybe one more.
All the lines in this poem were written while I was intoxicated throughout last year and while sober I formed then into this piece, thanks for reading
Sirena Mar 2014
Your kisses feel like nothing
They are plain
Empty
The place
Your heart
Where you kept all your love for me is abbyss
Empty
You're looking at me into my eyes
But I don't feel you here
I look back at you and try to find you
All I am to find is my refection looking back at me
I am scared
You're not here
And I'm breaking
Slowly
But painfully
Though I no longer can feel your warmth while you hold on to me
I hug you
Tightly
I don't want you to forget that I'm here
Waiting
-SAMM
Perig3e Jan 2011
Cup
In this light,
bisque white cup
lit right,
shadow left,
two-fingers+thumb loop
loop south,
mug chamber,
shadow side inside right,
top edge,
defined to the eye,
as a light gray oval trace
with refection highlights
at 10 and 5,
unseen bottom,
one gulp left of cold black coffee.
All rights reserved by the author
For the Sparrows Jan 2014
I dream of lakes that are mirrors
I dream a thousand miles away
where the pine trees whisper
and the birds sing a symphony
where the stag walks next to me
and the fox follows close behind
I dream of the mountains in the refection
I dream so far away from here.
01/17/14
Poetic T Jul 2014
You think you know me
Think I'm the joker of the pack,
Reading me isn't easy,
Many faces do I put up
To hide the many cracks that rise,
But I hide behind laughter, anger just below
I have to keep control.
Never to lose an inch, never to explode,
I am a puddle, calm on the surface
But turbulent under that,
I am a shallow lake
But all you see is a refection
Not really seeing what stirs beneath that,
Do not
Judge,
Presume.
Think you know my troubles
That lie just beneath the cracks,
Controlling,
Restraining,
Deep breaths,
Holding the tears back,
I wish to put it behind me
But times it runs, comes from behind,
Hitting me hard in the back.
Winding my emotions
Tears and rage flow
Uncontrolled
Alone
Fear
Anger
Take control
You stole a part of me
Something that even with time I can never get back.
L Smida Jan 2012
With my face comfortably buried into the cushion of the sofa, my body lay fast asleep.  My dream gets interrupted by a startling crash.  Eyes shot open and I quickly scan the room.  I didn’t see anything that seemed to be broken.  I could feel my head swell with confusion while I lay motionless on the sofa.  I stuff my face back into the cushion and carefully listen, hoping to not hear anything.  After a few seconds, I hear the kitchen door slowly squeak open.  I didn’t want to believe my ears so I lift my head to look over toward the door.  My eyes find a little girl in the doorway.  She stood for a while gazing into my eyes while I stare right back at her.  Something about her is extraordinarily intimidating.  Eventually she starts wandering over to me with silent footsteps and she plants her feet to position herself in front of me.  Again with the staring, I sit up and choke on my words.  Then I notice that she’s hiding something from me.  She’s holding something behind her back.  In confusion, I **** my head sideways mostly because I want to try and get a glance at what it is. Though, her intense stare stops me from peeking around her.  She has it.  She tucks something away in her arms, but I can’t comprehend any of it.  I don’t see anything, but she acts like she’s got something.  
"What is it?" I ask.
Her hands come around from behind her and she holds up her hands as if she’s grasping something heavy.  A box?  Her fingers tremble and they're strictly holding on real securely.  The spaces between her hands and fingers are empty, but her imagination tells me that she actually has something to show me.  I cannot see it.  How can I not see it?  Something is there.  I can see it in her eyes.  In her eyes is a reflection.  Her eyes show that she’s holding out a box right out in front of me.  I look back down at her hands.  Still empty.  My eyes jump back up into hers.  The box is nicely wrapped with colored paper and a pretty bow.  I hesitantly reach out with sweaty palms and anxiously put forth an effort to lay hands on what she might be holding.  Carefully, my hands maneuver between her hands.  Not feeling a thing.  With my hands remaining in search, I glance back to her eyes.  I watch my hands go right through the box.  I am appalled with the image I set focus on.  How is this happening?  What does she expect me to do?  Take the present?
Suddenly I feel something behind me, a cold nudge.  I spontaneously react by turning my head to scan the deserted room that lie just over my shoulder.  I spot a mirror.  I see myself on the couch with the little girl standing in front of me offering me the present.  I then turn to look at her, but she’s gone.  I gasp with disgust; I stare deeply into the mirror, but see only my reflection.  There’s something definitely wrong.  My eyes look confused.  I walk over to get a better look.  With a concentrated stare, I study my own eyes.  The trance is broken by the blink of my refection.  I stare but my reflection blinks.  A simple blink transforms the eyes, eyes that are not familiar to me at all.  Bloodshot and mean, the eyes of a demon.  The demon blinks again, but I know I’m holding my eyes open.  This is not my reflection.  It can’t possibly be.  My heart aches with danger, however I cannot take my eyes away.  My thoughts are drifting in many different directions, except I know I should maintain focus.  I feel my hand move up to touch the mirror.  The demon violently reaches out faster than I could wince.  I swirl around on the ***** of my feet to try and escape her grasp but she seizes the back of my shirt in her fingers.  The fingers pull me back and I can’t get away.  The little girl reappears by my feet.  I yell out to her for help but this time her eyes are bloodshot along with the demon’s.  She pushes the imaginary present into my chest with a force that I wasn’t expecting.  My breath escapes me and the box is too heavy.  The demon manages to slip her whole arm around my head reveling my neck way out in the open.  She extracts a blade and holds the cold metal against my throat.  I can feel myself drip with sweat and I can’t move a muscle.  Everything inside me is too tense to move.  The heavy box won’t release from my grip.  I try to let go, but it weighs my arms down.  Shaking with emotions that swarm around in my stomach like angry rabid hornets, I feel a lump form in my throat.  I read messages from my surroundings, I know that something terrible is about to happen.  Control is not something in my reach; I can’t do anything to help myself.  I try to scream, but the lump in my throat extinguishes all sound I try to project.  
With one full swift motion of the demon’s hand, my neck is sliced wide open.  Everything goes dark.  My eyes shut tightly as my knees hug the floor.  My face then faces the floor and I can see what I mess I’ve become.  No more breath, no more light, no more life, is this the end?  Does this pain tell the truth?  I wouldn’t say that, but what can I say?
I aim with all my effort for one more final deep breath.  I suddenly open my eyes and **** in air to fill my lungs.  I look around and I am on the couch with no harm at all.  My hands are free to run around my neck in search for blood.  I don’t feel any pain or open wound.  I sigh in relief and calmly lay back down.  Before I try and go back to sleep, I see the girl standing at the door.
The frozen lake,
The broken heart.

Stamped on to shatter,
The dreams of reality.

*Who knows where the footprint will lie,
Sinking down past the refection of the sky.
The last ray of sunlight beaming through,
Like an angel, Watching down on you.*

As inhaled,
Lungs freeze.
Just like that,
We shut off.
                                              **We feel reality.
Smoot Oct 2010
Emotions...
Didn't want apart of them so I kept them inside.
Locked behind a jail cell of disappointment
Along with my pride.
Tried to hide from the feelings I had so I wouldn't cry.
He said cry him a river but if I allowed my eyes to showcase how my body really felt
we would have an extra ocean to contain.
Salt burns in open wounds left by you.  
He said "baby you're my main."
As if this a title I would be proud to repeat to new people I meet.
As if being with him,
being the Queen of the streets,
is the position that was in my destiny.
Running through traffic without legs,
Seeing the view of the world without a refection
Stumbling in the wrong direction.
Feels like nightmares were a better look than life
like night life,
even if I wasn't doing my body right,
Seemed right.
Felt nice
for seconds at a time I was alone to feel like I was the best.
Not simply a replacement chick.
More like the woman you wanted to in a relationship with
instead of the one you had relations with.
Take me in faith that I will be a perfect lover for more than the night.
I often sit and contemplate and think
God in all his righteousness was right
He gave this earth to mankind as a sigh
Of his unmerited love from above
Saying have rule over all then the great fall

When will I ever feel set free
Will you be the first to relive me

Your approval is my master
Chaining me with silent laughter
Making forgiveness my greatest enemy
While my guilt grows stronger in me
There is refection of success
All the while striving endlessly without any rest
Knowing inside what could have been
The realization of my sin
I see myself true reflection in the mirror
And I ask myself once again
Today will I see myself win?

Something I am proud to say
I choose to no longer live that way

It's the ultimate challenge that I had to face
Finding a life of balance I fought hard to gain
I learned to live a new way, finding the real me
And I love my life today living life as free

I still sit and contemplate and think
How God in all his righteousness, yes, was right
Giving earth to mankind as a sign
Of his unconditional love from above
Saying in the earth have rule over all
Then took the time to forgive us for the fall
Pauline Morris Apr 2016
I was very cautious
I knew if I wasn't what it would cost us
I made sure the bedroom was perfect
I wanted MY romantic affect
I hung the plastic, then the curtains
Bed exactly in the middle, I had to be certain
Lit a few candles
Then sliped on my dress, and my sandals

I cruise the street
For my baby to meet
I pick him up at the corner
My heart beats faster, my body warmer
We go back to my house
Where we start to mess about
I lead you to my bedroom
We'll be making love soon

To my bed you are shackled
You have no idea of my feeling of hackles
Straddling you, and ridding you like a horse
All the wail your loving it of course

With you still in me, I bring out my toys
They are only for my collection of boys

They are bright and shiny
I will not treat you kindly
They are so sharp they can split a hair
And in their refection you just stare
You can't believe what you see
As the look on my face is pure glee

You body starts to convulse and thrash
Then with my blades I start to slash
I plunge my toy in
With the evilest grin
I love the squirting gushing sound
It's all so profound

I have loved all my men
That's why I let no one chase them
Forever in death they are mine
I'm one of a kind

I slash him to ribbons
It's as fun as the dickens
He's still alive
And feels every vibe
Covered in blood
Our bodies fit like a glove

I slowly climb off top
And lop of his part
Blood sprays the room
Death will be here soon

I'm so happy I made it romantic
And taped up the plastic
I am the Black Spider
I **** all I desire
Poetic T Aug 2015
It was like an echo, an echo always heard
What would happen when it
Ceased,
Refrained,
Terminated
Its toll upon my thoughts,
But I found others heard this calling
Never voiced whispered unheard.

Raeh eseht sdrow nekops
Resaeler morf slioc htrib
Eht yek sah won denrut

Liked garbled refection knowing what
Is unknown, heeded as whispers
Clinging to me, a brushed off shudder
As what was a breath now clawing at my inner ear,

"Leave me alone,

"I just spoken to air,

Do you hear the voice, the one next to me said?

"Yes,

"Don't worry friend they'll not last,

"How long have you heard these thoughts,

Since I was born, I have known there meaning
Were yours garbled nonsense?

"Yes,

I understood the first one long ago, now just
Comfort these thoughts.
Like music on my soul, easing my moments

"There singing to me now a lullaby of.......

"Nurse,
"Nurse,

Tears escaped my stained eyes, How could...

"Sorry he's gone,
"Did you know him long,

The nurse spoke cold, then the child was gone
Eleven years old,

To young on this earth for him to be gone,
He said in our talks if I listen I could hear the
Whispers to let them talk.
Days passed and I listened to each breath spoken
Few words made sense.
Spoken,
Birth,
Key
To open what I need to concentrate. I listen
To the words spoken to me of a heart young
But mind as sharp as others older in
Wisdom than me.
I listen, empty minded moments letting the
Words speak upon me.
Then like a mist it lifts upon thoughts and
I eventually hear words in clarity.

"Hear these words spoken,
"Release from coiled birth,
"The key has now turned,

With those words spoken in lucidity, I hear
Everything as these words now have meaning they
Sing,
Whistle,
Serenade
To me as my heart releases all fears,
And I realise that this is my chime.
I am at peace as the words whisper nothings
But I understand all the words spoken to me.
This is my end my song of ended moments time
Has caught up and now sings my lullaby to my mind.
Poetic T Mar 2017
Voices tell me that I should wonder on
the fascination of your smile,
I could coat my thoughts of you in
a blanket of your exhaled moments.

My anticipation of our meeting incomplete
till we speak no volume on our smiles.
We weave our reflections on to the other,
till distant faces adjoining to this moment.

Our symmetry whispers upon the others
perception, as eyes close and what was
but refection's of the others motion
is given form as lips................
Hal Loyd Denton Jun 2013
Winter has no cold lie the brief terror of life that seems endless the terror strikes from streets
And paths once walked in joy now each house every board each window every angle states
What was and never will be again nature will not allow a vacuum but lost- loved ones are the
Holes and vacuum that honeycomb the human heart these are the shadows that the brightest
Sun cannot abolish they visit in long walks or can come from the briefest encounter their
Unprecedented power is evidenced in silence of chiseled granite over windswept hills and
Fields nothing effect these monuments but the human heart alone through love can enwrap
The Coldest stone making it melt by love’s glowing power the stone shimmers momentarily and
Then is replaced by living memory that the coldest beast of all which is time has relentlessly
Pursued until has drawn a high flame of youthful vigor down till it is but a feeble flame that the
Smallest breeze extinguishes all leave a lasting mark and each in their own special way give
Enduring power that goes a long way in the healing process God their most prominent
Characteristics to veil the suffering one until the walk can be made alone for some it is the
Power of their personality others their gentle sweet nature can even hold deaths pall at bay
And still others the wonder they spin in common ordinary days come rushing in as swirling
Waters that raise the soul and carry it to higher climes shadows call us to refection our loved
Ones stand ever present to diffuse the harsh glaring light we hear their whispering voices they
Are timeless reminders of life’s greatest good we gather these mortal treasures they continue
To be our closest advisers and closest friends although they have ventured to the farthest
Boundaries of our understanding our hearts will always be knit together by love the greatest
Power known to mankind that is our unbreakable cord that binds us together yesterday today
And for all the tomorrows O stillness that can hold heaviest burdens it displaces the most
Contrary circumstances let us view our tomorrow the silence our escape walk the solitary
Landscape tin the emptiest places you will find the rare that stands out in exquisite detail we
Have shared the wonder of souls that have been strategically placed in our lives so that we
Could reach our destiny and fulfillment go forth bravely and share the gifts they bestowed in
Your life
Ellie Grace Jun 2018
My reflection haunted me
following me wherever I went
each mirror, window, glass pane
depicted a stranger’s body
a body that I wanted to disown
I burnt my house to the ground
abusing my fragile mind and body
distorted images of myself constantly flashed by my eyes
a vision that only I seemed to be able to see
a disillusioned truth I was unable to escape

Picking myself apart
slowly plucking away at each string
Unravelling
searching for something
anything good
yet always coming up empty handed

I desperately craved a sense of satisfaction
I never managed to taste
no matter how much I manipulated my body
making it painfully disappear
it was never enough

Truly believing that my flaws
my insecurities
were the only thing that I possessed  
my refection only ever revealed the things I lacked
the ugliness of it bringing me to tears

My tormented mind drove me to extremes
completely losing myself and any sense of sanity
illogical thoughts became logical
controlling my actions
dictating my life

Somewhere along the way
my quest for perfection
Became a quest for self-destruction

For death
Colin Bradford Jan 2014
There are so many things
we can't understand
but we look the other way
sometimes we get it wrong
and don't correct it
because we don't know where we are headed

Get in your car
I want you so much
Come to my house
We'll get ****** up
then go to sleep
I will hold you close
and wonder if were in too deep

When you walk down the street
Do you see my face?
In the windows and the shops
That we used to go to
Do you remember those times?
When everything was good
and you cooked for me
while you were naked

The dishes were clean
and you made up the bed
with a note on it
saying you that you loved me
but I made a mistake
that I cannot undo
and I see your refection
in the windows
Jack May 2014
Somewhere far beyond this faux grin I wear
lies the fault…in all of its lined fashion
Emptiness lingering on a sifted thought,
reaching for anything that resembles what we had

It appears on a thin white stripe, as a banner
of frightening horizontal access…merely a tap required,
and I freeze…wide eyed, glaring amongst holding pattern tears,
scared to death while revealing what waits…

There was a time when this occurrence
was that of a beautiful sunrise, a fresh cup of coffee
and my heart would skip a beat…now it stops, flat line,
daring me to breathe

As I read your words, over and over…and over again,
like a jagged line in the vinyl, spinning slowly,
bouncing back to the beginning, my eyes search,
longing for a phrase, a chance slip in the ink

Dissecting each italicized letter, I find
fonts of beauty delivering curlicue pain while
draping my heart with paragraphs of brocade fabric dreams
shredded and left out to dry…fading in the sun

Even looking away it still remains, staring back,
spelling out the fault…I see it and I hate it, for
like my faint refection in this lighted screen…
I recognize it…and it is me
I was wrong
Poetic T Oct 2016
The undercurrent always weaving,  
massaging upon the shores of each other.
degrading upon the other, so subtle in its whispers
upon the others embankment.

Thinking that with exploitation it is rendering it
susceptible to its whims.
But as light becomes more obscure, feathers of
impure tears collect eroded in impaired hues.

Two become indifferent to what was, but what lingered
for so long was now not as either had envisioned.
Diluted upon the verges of their joining, neither
now singular but an amalgamation of neither each became.

As each crested upon the others being, becoming less of
what they were and what was an eventuality. These feathers
of diluted halves would give flight to another born of neither
but both. the paradox of what was earned neither would exist.

"We wish to repeat ourselves on others,
*"Only to find the refection wasn't our true observation of our self,

— The End —