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Jack R Fehlmann Dec 2013
crooked steps
just a seconds glimpse behind
perfect trail before me, each step a gift
Then in the distance I  caught sight
of something
I saw you kiss the lips of the sinking Sun
locked embrace
and O' how completely I struggled
that entire night
and O' how the next and the next
and then the  next I tasted
betrayal O' how vivid I
I relived the scene in visions,
questioning my eyes,
wondering your motives
I focused, I tried more and more
O' I dug deep, i closed the miles,,
then much closer I witnessed
then, you whispering to the sky
then you reached up your hands
upon the full moon's face
Pulling her down from heaven,
 to your promises as you smiled
to deny us, O' I obsessed
You....
Kissing the sun, Promising the moon,
As I watched O' I glared
O' as did I wilt
I withdraw to obscurity
Beneath cover of your growing shadow

a silouhette to follow
making chase of the impossible
I can't give up
all i do is follow,
and look , and press on ,
just to get close enough
To tell you
You are still my sun,
Though you have another
and you are my setting moon,
my unobtainable,...
and my reasoning for every step,
every mile...  
Now besought by the breadth
The severity of those betrayals
I hope you knew,
i followed and still do
coming to apprehend
my little tease,
my treasure, my liar
I give chase,
to how completely
how very far I would go
just to prove once and for all
I love you.
I shall, one day...
If and when the stars let me
they decide...
Even they see plainly my envy
As I have no mask
One motive,
Several unknown labels.
I contrast the brilliant
Silk strewn beauty once mine
Falling once, am I choosing
Leg by foot, by will and love
Outshine the sun and by this
Luna will turn it's attention
Perhaps this test of time
Practiced, lonesome patience
May one day return the gaze
Embrace in arms my desire
The only one I want and follow
My world.
UNFINISHED... but closer
Meka Boyle Feb 2013
Trust has lost its potency.
Words clumsily bump up against meaning,
Groping for reason the darkness of good intentions.
Clinging to the old wives tales of sincerity,
We hold a hollow pedastool above
Or weary, aching backs,
Hoping for someone to come and relieve us
Of our empty obligations.
Atlas has long left his perch,
The world slowly tumbled off his sinewy frame,
Shattering upon the cold hard face
Of reality.
Language has lost its clarity,
Muddled with distorted alliances
And miscommunication,
It's flails hopelessly, gasping for air
Before plummeting back down
Into the deep water of tragedy
And modern day relationships.
There's no room anywhere
For carefully constructed prose,
Or spontaneous laments of passion.
They've all been pushed out
To make room for something intangible.
Something not there enough to grasp it,
But real enough to trace its
Shadowy silouhette against
The cold hard walls that encompass
Innocence lost.
Christian Jan 2011
We were dining on the rat trap, pulled back ready to snap.
A fresh cedar frame, the print was red (the outlines) and blue (the silouhette of a rat). Its imperfection was off centered, the copper painted iron spring held the candle with smooth hands. Our dinner flickered with the shadows.
Stuffed in a darker corner under a table which held the masters tools. I said hi to my friends who only scurried faster with the sounds of my throat. That night I forgot how to talk.
Peanut butter under a wedge of white cheese, a fly made his last moves on that goo like a butter knife poorly spreading butter, we were eating fine this evening.
I was busy avoiding your gaze which haunted me the first day you wouldnt look at me.
Now it was all I could see, at least imagine.
I took a small chunck with a small dip and a small leg. They say hungers the best seasoning, I wasnt very hungry.
You got tired of my abscence, as you stood I finally wasnt busy anymore.
I told you not to move. I forgot I forgot I couldnt talk.
You took one step.

The master wont be cleaning up rats tonight.
I let my brain wander
Hannah Zedaker Oct 2017
It's been a while since my heart first fluttered for you.
and
although (I hope) you'll never see these literary lines laid out for sake of my youthful embarrassment being whisked away
I'm here with motives of sincere resolving.
Boxes lined:
|   | beautiful
|   | forgiving
|   | purest heart of red
I assume as usual that my reaches are always non-existent just as any romance thrown my way,
but re-evaluation
and stipulation
are turning my blanks to realizations
of
                life
liberty
        and the pursuit of happiness
your eyes still shine with golden flecks
but the soul embroidered in the lining of your silouhette
shines brighter than most.....
so please stay permanent
and don't let my impulsive writing scare you
Blonde Haired Boy i do adore you.
with open arms of friendship
check-boxes
|x| all of the above
signed sincerely,
lots of love
yeah, it's weird. I honestly don't know what this is besides some of my thoughts thrown at a page. Peace.
Harmony Sapphire Jan 2015
What rhymes with forgiveness?
Death's kiss....torment of hell's eternal bliss.
She walks beside me, my darker side.
A duel person a shadow divides.
Traveling in the same direction with a parallel flow.
My shadow like a carbon copy of my spirit.
But less transparent & hollow.
Quietly it follows.
We are a team an essence through light.
Like fog or steam the silouhette doesn't gleam.
Passing cars change it's angle.
The image abscurred & mangled.
Darkness entangles.
Creepiness chokes & strangles.
My consicous mind out of my body.
Hovers above my bed like astro projection.
In a life after your dead.
You can't escape death.
Live your life until your last breath.
Children are sacred should never die.
My daughter is precious I would give my life for her.
It doesn't matter how much you have in cash.
You can't buy back your life in dollars or cents.
Your whole life you work to pay rent.
Death is sudden, life is gone in a flash.
© Harmony Sapphire . All rights reserved
Will Moore Jul 2015
As I pray this even time
sparkling risen boughs of silver maple
wave and nod in the gusty breeze
between them is a patch of blue sky
I read Psalms of merciful forgiveness
while tears bedew my eyes unworthy
The dove flies over my house and away
out she goes into the endless blue distance
all of my dust applied to her tail
my sins all carried aloft and quickly passing
disappear forever with the fading silouhette
as onward she goes winging away
between the leaning branches of the elms
which ever bow to these prevailing winds
of my earth bound life
Kay-Ann May 2014
I look around in this dark dungeon
and the sweet music of death is playing
life walks by, stops and eyes me
Its silouhette giving me a last taste

wicked spirits invade my body and take me to a place
where regret and sorrow dwell
the angels in my mind scorn at the sight and leave
why are these spirits oppressing my thoughts?

swords and daggers lay on the ground
I tremble at the thought of never being free
Guilt is such a merciless monster
When will I ever have sweet serenity?

my soul begs for repentance
the demons fall at my feet and disappear
my angels return, glorifying
life gives me a second chance
Q Jun 2015
I think of love as a small home
With furniture well-used
And the clutter of life
And the smell of fresh food.

I think of love as a silouhette
In the dark of night
And whispered words
That ring true in daylight.

I think of love as long silences
Broken by the turn of a page
And loud, simple contact
And losing track of hours and days.


I think of love as a furrowed brow
As an angry shout and a sharp word
And a fist strinking out
And hurt, hurt, hurt.

I think of love as broken promises
And vitriolic, secret thoughts
And discontent never to be voiced
And doors that never unlock.

I think of love as a gilded cage
And a small bird that will never get away.
I think of love as predators and prey
I think of love as vulnerability.


I think of love as a downturned head
And silent submission
And an authoratative stance
And the will to listen.

I think of love as the catalysm's calm
As a word in a hurricane
That stops a million, million thoughts
And halts a crashing train.

I think of love as a private comfort
And rare affection
And overwheleming pride
And jealous admiration.


I think of love.
Stu Harley Aug 2014
to this
love and beyond
i see
the fresh
silouhette of
your soul
through the
traveled soul
behind
the tainted glass and
there
i see through
a pain
that shall
tear us apart
Pepper Dove Jan 2020
I sit here
And let my mind wander
Down silly paths
Pondering the past
Wondering why some things
Last
A shadow casts
My silouhette trying to stand
Tall
But small
Is how I feel
As I fall
To knees pleading
I'm not really sure how I'm feeling
These days, become all the same
Mundane
Azaria Dec 2017
me.
crumbled words
your chalk
traced pavement
silouhette
existing
like white noise from
a tv
i dream about your
legs in between
my thighs
at night
when i cannot breathe
when does the longing stop?

— The End —