"thornes" poems
In the head of a beautiful eclectic creature,
Tainted thoughts and black spots,
Disconnected synapses and brain damage.
Honey dew on my fingertips,
Mystical shores of her mind,
Twisted vines with thornes and puddles of water sinking me into her wonders.
Eternal life,
Wandering eyes,
Excusing my hands because they just wanna touch,
They just wanna feel.
Living on the edge of her cliff waiting to jump into the warm liquid that is her.
Tasting like water in its purest form,
It's contagious,
She's contagious to me.
I'm sick but her poison is the only cure,
The only elixir that will make me feel sober when I'm lifted,
Touching the sky that's in her eyes,
Don't mind me I'm high.
White,
Green,
Pink,
Blue,
Smoke and music that's nothing new.
My addictive behavior has me enticed,
My sense are heightened,
I'm elated,
I'm faded,
Fading in and out of reality.
She,
Won't let me be but I can't leave her alone,
Her presence is my home.
That scent is refreshing,
Like freshly cut grass,
Beautiful as stained glass,
It's immaculate to me.
When I was introduced to her,
She changed who I am,
Took over my life,
She's my wife,
I put her first even when she's wrong and I'm right.
She takes my money and my time,
Ages better than wine.
Purity in its most innocent form,
Safety and comfort in her arms.
Now without further ado,
Let me introduce you to,
My everything,
My main thang,
Mary Jane.
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
*Dilusional baracades
I've said everything I've ever needed to say
But it doesn't seem to be enough to go around
rose thornes in our poisened heads
stitched together with needle and thread
we take our brains and dip them in lead
it smells just fine to me
Dimmed dreams and shiny things
we thing about the lies we used to feed
feed ourselves and our decorated bleeds
Nothing is right
Because once we all had fleed
It was nothing but dimmed dreams
and shiny things*
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 3:07 PM UTC
Another rose in the cracks of the concrete
Stomped out, surrounded by the wrong feet
About six feet north is the heads of men without the proper appreciation,
Of it's beauty, of it's patience, luminescence and essence,
But I appreciate it. I admire it. Hurt that my appreciation isn't appreciated.
Stop your complaining, it's a flower you godforsaken retched **** up.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 12:38 PM UTC
I am but a rose thrown at a scorned lover,
Left heartbroken in the middle of the street,
It's petals falling and stem breaking
And it's beautiful colour fading.
My petals can never be restored,
Most have been lost,
Carried by the whispers of the wind,
Like peace,
I know that I will never be able to experience such a feeling again
I have been;
Stepped on,
Spit on,
Sweeped to the side,
And picked up
But I know that;
Those who step on me, get the sharp pain of my thornes
Those who spit on me, have an internal envy of my beauty,
Those who sweep me, the wind carries me back to the same place,
And those who try to reconstruct me, fulfil themselves with an impossible task, but I know those are my true friends, my greatest treasure, and my brightest hope.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 2:08 AM UTC
Satisfaction
Civil war began with whispering souls seeking setisfaction.
The floor is paved with thornes,
in streets filled with thugs
taking drugs seeking setisfaction in the sky world.
their dreams are getting high.
Like space race, we target from range.
Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 1:28 AM UTC
where is the
white rose
who sit
upon the thrown
hide the truth
in her
black thornes
her hands are worn
thus tainted in
ash rose blood
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 2:27 AM UTC
How well do you pay attention...
small details can tell you a lot about any thing...
Then what is your reaction?...
Do you still feel the same way about things..
or have you awaken to the truth...
Ugly aint it...
but they think their lies are beautiful fruits...
That hide thornes behind it...
take one and it ******
take two and you bleed...
take three you must love tricks..
and four well whats the need...
See pay attention what they are doing to us...
Finding ways to make us weak...
Show there true face one day they must...
and then we'll all play hide and seek...
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 1:08 PM UTC
I said in the face of the tyrant
what reminds us of a tyrant before him .
I said : " in the face of the tyrant what reminds us of a tyrant before him.
I said in the face of the tyrant " what remindes US of a tyrant before him ? "
don"t be afraid..say we are not holding rose flowers in our hands ..but deep woundes from the throne of thornes on his majesty's birth day .
May 8, 2021
May 8, 2021 at 2:35 PM UTC
Hey you, keep looking but I won't say a word
For you , i'll open up and you can see all the hurt
Every scar , that runs down till the end corner of the world
And the gun-shot wound that killed the lonely bird
Not our fault but it will always be our mistake to keep
Hush now, pretty child you don't have to weep
Come now , its been a while and I know you want to sleep
Come here , lie on this bed of thornes and let it cut you deep
I always wondered but now I have no reason to dream
Because now I know nothing is as it seems
Walking out of close doors into different realms
Always afraid to wander where i've never been
You only touch me where my scars run the deepest
And now i'm even more afraid to hold your hands
I've been away for a while and I need to rest
I hope with every word that I don't say you will understand
Maybe silence will teach you what my words could not
May the preacher be truth and ever so wise
The ink will fade away in the end and the pages will rot
You can paint over the ugly parts will all your lies
Hey you , we've been talking from ages now
But I still don't know who you are or whats your name
Now you , all you need is to turn around
Face me and tell me every word of your pain
I need to know what makes us what we are
You've always been the one to listen to your heart
I need to know what makes us the same
You and me , we are a thousand miles apart
But I can still see you in every mirror on the wall
You can stand on all you want but you'll still fall
Into this nightmare that will strangle your thoughts
One bad seed and you will have to burn them all
I've been waiting and thats the only thing that I remember
It feels like i've been here with you forever
And I still don't know the colour of your eyes
Every word had always been spoken together
And now i have no clue what's there on your lips
Just smoke and haze that hides your face
I've forgotten the last time I saw through the mist
A song that plays over and over like a maze
Hey you , can you still look out of the window
Can you still witness the world pass us by
Do you , still dream about the quiet meadow
I can see the the light slowly leaving your eyes
Will you too , leave me alone now that you're lost
Or will you , find me again when i'm about to leave
The time has decayed and now I know what you're not
I can see you more clearly and I know you're not me
Hey you, keep looking but I won't say a word
For you , i'll open up and you can see all the hurt
Every scar , that runs down till the end corner of the world
And the gun-shot wound that killed the lonely bird
Will hurt no-more.
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 11:12 AM UTC
The Sonne of God my shepheard is:
I am
His lambe.
I shall not want, for I am His.
He leadeth me to tender grasse
Where I
Do lie,
And where still waters gently passe.
He doth restore (and therein blesse)
My soule,
Makes whole
My finely shatter'd brokennesse.
My comfort is His staffe and rod:
They prove
The love
And mercy of the Sonne of God.
For His names sake, my shepheard leades
His keepe
Of sheepe
Through righteous wayes 'twixt thornes and weedes.
Yea, though I walke through Deaths blacke vale
Of shade,
Affrayd
I'm not, for Thou dost leade my trayle.
Sith Thou art with me, Lord, no feare
I'll have:
I'll brave
Evil with ease and eke good cheare.
Thou dost prepare, amid my foes,
My food:
Renew'd
I am, and my cuppe overflowes.
Thou dost with oyle anoint mine head,
Dost poure
It o'er
The living head that once was dead.
Surely goodnesse and mercy shall
With me
E'er be,
For Thou'rt my home and life and all.
Jun 29, 2021
Jun 29, 2021 at 9:49 AM UTC
A demented hippie queen
The flowery thornes deeply wraps her torso,
she bleeds
She rubs it in the stained dress stepping so elegantly
Smirking at the roses nip
Sipping her tea nonchalantly,
The universe continuing to breathe
She knows the world is unforgiving
There is no return course
She rides her dark horse
The full moon guides her as she treads blindly,
hoping to find her a place to be free
Dec 5, 2020
Dec 5, 2020 at 12:52 AM UTC