The slight side of madness
the child that lives within
that peter Pan in green
looks north for his Wendy

I know she looks out the window
waiting for her falling star me
and I will not disappoint her
for I love her tremendously

She is the light of my fancies
she is my sweet sugar cake
I would make worlds for her
in sweet pure whispers of love

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

Beauty creeps up and in through the window
everyday she comes to visit

myriad changelings, this time of year
and a stillness after a storm

all a oneness come rain or shine
she taps lightly on the senses

I am here, I am here
she whispers me to sleep.

In the quiet embrace of the vast sky,
A tapestry of white floats gently,
Puffs of vapor, soft as a whisper,
Beneath the sun's golden gaze, they linger.

Mists arise, ethereal and delicate,
Shaping and reshaping, a restless dance,
A blanket of dreams stretched across the blue,
Each fold a story, untold but felt.

Amidst the sky, a billow takes form,
A congregation of thoughts, light and heavy,
Swarming like ideas in the mind's eye,
Connecting, dispersing, then gathering again.

Thunderheads emerge, dark and powerful,
Foreboding yet beautiful in their grandeur,
A nebulous promise of rain to come,
Teasing the earth with a distant echo.

Cumulus clouds drift, sculpted by winds,
Gentle giants, casting shadows below,
They mirror our fleeting moments of joy,
A reminder of time, swiftly passing, yet still.

Each cloud a vessel of possibility,
Carrying whispers from far-off lands,
A gallery of shapes, unique and fleeting,
Chasing the light, forever changing.

In the soft twilight, they blush and fade,
Colors igniting the world in soft hues,
Mundane becomes magical in their presence,
Embracing the stillness of a moment held.

As night falls, they dissolve into dreams,
While stars peek through, twinkling like thoughts,
The clouds' memory lingers in our hearts,
An endless voyage through the infinite sky.

frogs "croaking"
in front of me, in the reeds
crickets "chirping"
behind me, in the brush
countless coyotes "yelping"
from across the lake
bass, carp surfacing
under a yellow moon
unaware its shimmering shaft’s
a magnet to my eye  
and more lullaby to me,
who can yet see spectral waves
but lost cherished vibrations--like birdsong,
winsome whispers--eons ago

That tiny devil whispers to me,
"Come on, darling, let them run free!"
He sits on my shoulder and purrs in my ear,
"Baby, baby, you don't need to fear.
I won't hurt you, trust and see,"
This is what he says to me.
Day after day he cries out my name
Pleading with me not to feel shame.
"These deeds are not sins," he whispers with glee,
"These deeds will release you, like a bird on a tree."

Disconnected linguistics leave a broken fragility
turning tongues tumbling to trite truths,
tales spun seeking refuge in imagined worlds,
realities left shattered in their wake
while the crumbling crust reveals
heart held, beating in its embrace.
Thoughts turned towards musing,
secondary perception detecting that creeping chill
sliding as ivy from toes
to engrossed mind constricted,
comprehension continuously catching
the cold of ancient rites,
a reoccurence of yesterdays',
it echoes on in such melodic disorder.

With sweet venom she sang my way,
understanding aural shortcomings
allots no egress of racing choruses
coordinated to keep pace on her tongue,
lacing time so delicately, a feat
of only passionate disdain
tastefully recounted in every syllable
crashing in with a vicious viscosity,
leaving life to buckling knees,
forcing haggard steps
while the mind abstains from physical obfuscation,
knowing contact lends focus
to the surrounding mists, draining away

these rains you called, in echoes
of cries once denied
harmonies gaining pitch in perfect paces
found once allowed to resound
in the dark halls of your eyes,
until tomorrow fell to
yesterday's reign of essence,
breaking escaping waters to essentials
encircling columns we've yet
to deem pedestals.

It is in your service
that's found purpose,
an audition of caution
refined to presence,
I step into those commons
you still hold.

In nightshade and baby's breath
your song still emanates,
guiding through corridors
while the ceiling fills with
observant eyes of those predating sorrow,
unwilling to be its end,
or allow a Freudian slip
in which to reveal
a true identity,
they hold our hope
just within reach
though grasping fingers do naught
but brush aside that shadow
cast overhead, if only for the moment.

In this maze I am flanked
by hedges of stone,
mortar,
a mixture of
one part water
to every action
allowed to cement itself
in habit.
Reformative shifts scaling
to emerge a new horizon,
walls become signposts
as you echo inwards,
or up,
directive differences
falling to disorientation
either is understood
your path.

Catching firefly notes,
we've lined our world
in an unaccustomed passion,
all requiem and maladroit,
It was ours.
In the center,

our masks sufficed,
not having the time
to trade selves after
skirting two terrains of lucidity,
this reflective core the only stage
for our melting embrace,
idyll frivolity now perceived reality
in which falling apart proves
a simple concepts,

it's marked, our time now conceding
to the allure of situational  gravity,
spiraling downwards is the start of
constant uphill struggles,
crawling when called upon,
yet refusing to take knees
to provisional tears,
and finding conceding timeline tears
commonality.

For now though
we'll sit beneath this eldar tree,
sinking to material dissociation,
as the wish of a lover's kiss
washes upon us,
left surfacing somewhere past
these leaves of fall
in time to release
the seas of change.

And as waves pervade
she wraps her palm 'round mine,
whispers collecting in tense tendons,
sketch a note between innocence's evidence
and dust's barefoot impressions.
Signed in years marking its begin,
we addressed it
to any that may return.

My blood runs across my flesh
He's here again
here to take me away.

The halls are dark,
and the moon washes in pale light across the floor
My tears don't fall this time,
I am not afraid.

His black wings caress the plush white carpet
stained by my life essence,
and his eyes are filled with such hate
and the blood of his innocent victims
the candles on the window pane burst to life
and the wind whispers across my damp skin.

I raise my shaking hand towards him
begging for him to end the pain,
as crimson liquid spills from my severed veins
they hit the ground and turn to black.

His eyes watch me in curiosity
but his lips curl in a knowing grin
he lifts one hand and shakes one long bony finger,

"You have one chance little one," he whispers

But I've gone too far to look back
I turn to the window,
and watch the white curtains billowing in the icy wind.

"I'm ready," I whisper.

The white curtains touch the tips of the flame
and roar into a hungry sea of fire

"There is no forgiveness once you cross the line,"

I stare at the flames as they bend and flicker
as if they're dancing
taunting me.

My mind was already made.

"There has never been forgiveness for me, my soul belongs to you,"

And as soon as the last word drops from the tip of my tongue
I'm engulfed in the flames.

As far as the ear could see,
there were whispers-
let once upon flowers,
whose petals wilted and died thereafter.

i.
Secrets don't make friends
this I know for sure

past lives and past times,
feed me the broth of your lies.
Lightly it grazes my lips;
the skin stretched over my bones trembles,
malnourished.

ii.
Words will never hurt me
what a lie that was

"What's the tea"
"Ooooohhh, I love drama!"
spill your guts heathen,
expel all that which you would rather hide.

iii.
Make sure you don't miss twice.
If you do, that might just give me a shot to survive

Whispers carried on the air like silence in a vacant room,
vacant like a widows heart-
filled with thoughts of yesterday and before.


Let me be, lest you whisper me into eternity.

They call her names,
send their curses through a screen.
She blocks them,
but the words slip through the cracks,
curl beneath her skin.

She scrubs her face,
but the insults don’t wash away.
She sleeps,
but the whispers slither through her dreams.

Years pass.
The usernames are gone.
The accounts are deleted.
The laughter has moved on.

But the words—
the words still stay.

I feel spicy today...like peeping in on lovers.

I feel ***** today... whip cream and nakedness.

I feel flirty today... wind that catches my skirt and has it's way with it.

I feel naughty today...tease the buttons on my shirt.

I feel free today...bathing in the sunlight...back arched...head back.

I feel sinister today...whispers sweet nothings with heated breath.

I feel sensual today...hands tracing the outlines of my skin.

I feel explicit today...licking my lips and tasting the wetness.

I feel love today...drunk with the pleasures of living...exhale...

Karma is as karma does, don't ever wonder why
Worry about what once was...until the day you die

Wasting days and nights as life"s burdens worsen
Commit before it is too late to be a better person
Enjoy the feast but most of all appreciate the famine
Indulge the beast but always look at life and examine

Regret is a curse drastically never to be undone
Numb and wash it over with momentary fun
Only to return again just like a smoking gun
Reminded when you eclipse me just like the sun
Been Sleepwalking through my daily race to run
Bittersweet life to leave, alive an then... You're done

The globe will spin as time again whispers in your ear
Deaths approaching all of us therefore you have no fear
Grasp the wheel decisively and let your fate begin to steer
But always analyze and learn from your rear view mirror
The road is slick, and windows fogged as you begin to veer
Traction comes as happy birthday drums bring another year
No matter how severe the storm becomes it will soon be clear
Jubilant exuberance from your eyes as they expel one last tear

Write about being seen, really being seen.
(Remember to go with your "first flash," and write for 10 minutes without stopping or thinking.)

I was so humiliated. Besides feeling humiliated, I felt like I was on display. Each step I took down the hallway, every person in every little group glared at me, glanced away, and the whispers were buzzing. I felt it unjust, but I knew I brought it on myself. I cannot say I felt betrayal, as I was the original betrayer, (well, he was, but our emotional volley had collapsed with the weight of my action) but I hated him for savoring the revenge of my ruined reputation. I knew the pain I bestowed on him wouldn’t go away, but his smug satisfaction of broadcasting my shame only added to my humiliation.

When is graduation? Exactly two months away. That was April first, and I would have my high school diploma June 1st. I was a survivor, for my whole life, and although it was awful, I knew I could get past it. Still, every step I took in the hallway following that dreaded day, every move I made, every word I spoke, every breath I exhaled– was noticed, and I was judged without given the opportunity to provide an explanation of my perspective. High school rumors were ruthless, but what was worse is when it wasn’t a rumor. It was a scandal.

Even though no one dared to ask about it, to obtain information from me, I knew they all knew. Everyone knew, and once the basic information was known, details were not important. I wondered how many other girls experienced what I was experiencing, having to hold their head high and act proud despite the shame. It was strengthening, inadvertently, but the only other option was to hide away and avoid everyone. Even with a reputation, I couldn’t do that. Peers whispered and laughed degrading words, female faculty cast judgmental stares and all male teachers avoided eye contact, to avoid any association with me.

With my windows tenderly open,
the moonlight, a pale marble phantom I admire
The dark light rests beside me,
unveiling a vivid urban gleam

A jet black silhouette transpires
He whispers in the dark
Porcelain lies, radiant yet feeble.
His words achingly deceive
the lights that disdain me;
belittling my affectionate delusion

Pitch dark silence, I weep as I grieve
My tears filling in everlasting secrecy of
this tragical devotion blurring out the stars

You speak with a passionless passion
Yet my world doesn't fall apart-
It makes the whole universe perish.

That night, the stars seemed to blemish.

Come close this time
To question my breaths
And hear the whispers of your name
Between the distances of those unnamed breaths and soundless sighs.

we are barren but not bare
to those who bother to stare
we are soaked in silent, sullen mist
but are simply happy to exist
in winter's cloaked passage of time

we speak softly in the fading light
of the fallen leaves, their plight
when strange souls plod on this sacred ground
we are careful to make no sound
save whimsical whispers in curious rhyme

The fiery wind burns our skin
this simmering summer noon
but our resolve is not paper thin.

the river is all ours
I tell her
and she whispers love notes.

When we retreat under the banyan
she scans the grey for clouds
and I her eyes for a mystic hint.

how lovely it would be
if it rains now
she says.

it would
I swear by the river.

We walk away
dreaming good crop
swaying in the river wind.

I didn’t see it coming,
It wasn’t set on my nightly planner.  
4 sober hours ago seem so far away now.  
On my left hand,
cherry red lipstick smug stains shows memories of a forgotten night that I’ll always have to regret.  
See, I only wish it was lipstick.  
Truthfully, I know that 2 hours and a 5th of ***** earlier I was all to worried about which girl I want to take home.  
Stumble 1 drunken hour later,
keg stands and **** rips have me defying gravity and federal law.
My beer googles are activated,
I’m captivated with the idea of driving.  
30 smashed minutes forward,
I finally reach the forbidden fruit with
2
beautiful blonde blue-eyed babes.  
Tumbling into our seats,
we were invincible.  
Plastering our way forward through empty roads and city streets,
I’m reminiscent on stop signs and brake lights.  
I hear cherry red lips speak sensual words into my ear,
whispers of achieving my goal.
It’s stated eyes are windows to the soul,
this is true because I could see it in the reflection of pupils,
a single tree along with it.  
I turn my beer goggles quick enough to see this wasn’t a tanked-up nightmare but,
the bark of a beast that makes no noise.  
I saw 2 beautiful blonde blue-eyed girls fly threw my windshield,
I wonder what their moms will say.  
I got wrecked to wreck the lives of not only myself but
of entire families and lives
that weren’t even created yet.  
I’ll never know the wonders I killed,
the hopes I stabbed,
the dreams I cut down deeply into their veins and watched them bleed out.  
30 somber minutes I spent finding nothing else to blame,
it’s all on me,
I was the drunk judge, jury and executioner.  
Now, I look to my left hand,
wishing 4 sober hours ago,
I could’ve saw it coming.

I retreat into myself
Into the corridors of me
I lounge on the well worn flagstones
Gazing on the marble columns
Arranging tapestries and paintings in
A more perfect order
I stalk down old hallways and explore unnamed galleries with a
Single candle to push back the deep
Sometimes rooms are filled with old Furniture
Sometimes entirely empty
Once feeling brave I held onto
The threshold of such a room and
Stretching out I hold the candle aloft in the chasm. Nothingness, darkness complete the light puddles at my feet pitiful.
When I recall that yawning abyss the silence of
It persists.
In ballrooms I play Chopin's waltzs' for no one  in particular
Yet I take my bow and my place at the head of a table set for a score of kings
I lay on marble steps trying to guess the riddles that my echo whispers
I climb the  towers and the spires to dizzying heights and many weeks I was lost in the labyrinth of cellars of basements of tombs beneath
I have seen strange things lately: a chair upturned or
Bed unmade, quills still wet, and doors open and shut of their own volition in the inky black
I swear I have seen before
A tall figure in a hooded cloak dart
Into the shadows, and it did not seem
Altogether human

I read for years inside my library  
And have spoken at length to Shakespeare and Plato
I have seen Yggdrasil and the seven hells
And sped through time with
H.G Wells. Of death and moon, of birds and galaxies I am enamored.
Tea with Julius Ceaser, chess with Captain Hook.
Breakfast with The Buddah
Coffee with The Christ
Did you know that Captain Ahab takes His water with a squeeze of lime? No Ice. Abraham Lincoln and Mark Twain know me by my first name, I have fenced with the Gods of Olympus and of Asgard and I remain undefeated. The divine crowd my hearth and many nights have been passed here in quiet conversation, with Confucius, with Archimedes, with Epictetus, Davinci, and the brothers Grimm
I have lived ten thousand lives and Will live another ten

-Without a single thought of you-

I wander
To my garden
Gently lit by paper lanterns
The path is smooth and heady
The amber blossoms
And weathered sculptures
Make my eyelids heavy
Monuments with fists clenched beat my
Ego ******
New flowers sprout from the ivy throat
Always things are grown but never overgrowing
I steal through the hedge maze that only I know
To the secret center where no plant grows
Pavilion and pond
Where no bird sings year long
In that quiet I endeavor
To look without fear
Into the pupil of forever

In between the desks
there are whispers,
whispers that seem too loud for my ears.
Abstract secrets and ideas shared
between friends and strangers
within one foot of emptiness
that we call personal space.
The space that has us worrying
about the amount of breath mints in our backpack
and if our breakfast could be stuck in our teeth.
The space that is irrelevant
when surrounded by the people you love.
The space between the desks
that is uncomfortably necessary.

Your word that speaks the language of your soul.
Your soul that hears the voice of your heart.
Your heart that scream the name of your mind.
Your mind that whispers the emotion of the lines.
Your lines with notes and tones. And
your tones that tune the feeling you have.

The music you have.
Through your soul into your heart and to your mind.

Everyday i walk down these halls Theres laughing
Theres talking
And everyone's rushing.
But today was different.
The halls were bleak
And it seemed as though nobody was beside me or in front of me
No laughing
No talking
Just whispers
And even with my head bowed
I can feel their stares
Not normal stares either
They’re stares of uttermost disgust and disgrace
As i walked forward the whispers get louder
My stomach drops
My eyes burn
And everything become blurry
The first tear rolls down my face and
I taste the salt as it hits the top of my lip
My nose fills with snot
I sniff it in
Trying to hide and evidence of my weakness
But they know
And to them
Its satisfaction.

The rattle is shaken and life becomes unfixed
Torrential rains cascades downwards on ancient bricks
These stunning moments have been rediscovered
In wonder all is flustered in awe as the state of silence honks
Love creeps out of tune in time, the unsureness of cold feet
The voice fades, the toned whispers continually erased
Stormed and soaked, stilled and stalked by a heart that stole my dream
Drenched in uncertainty, non-favouring multitudes won't let me be
These flutters flattens and deflated, I stroll and I will not run
The floating fun fares vanishes, the morning bird furnishes
The time capsule evaporated, unstripped and frozen

Ohh, how I wished to plant and harvest inspiration
Wake up with a renewed breath of air, the flowing river
Of the days when the gloom masked, I hated what life had become
How could humanity be so self centred and selfish?
I looked for silence and the banging never ceased
The masses rushed, never to let me be, they snatched my freedom
I inhaled the hope of the freeness and longed for the racing momentums

How so?
That over time the weather collapsed to coldness, the darkness marbled
A nag of the songbirds, as I escaped in the ****** ozone layer
A disconnect of the mind, body and soul; when I saw my spirit sail
A snail sailing on its own course and journey slowly but steady
Reflections and visions of the timeline of growth and fertility
A heart of one, the soul of all, the mind of many, a tongue in sums
The chandelier hanged on a ceiling, high, holding the flickering bulbs
A condense of energy, the modelled nature of a prognostic intervention
A laughter and synergy rests in the symphony of the unsung melodies

I have to get these thoughts out, put them on paper I cant save it for later!  Just the thought of being alone is something felt so strong! These thoughts, these thoughts, these thoughts, this thought.. Its battle in my mind that cant be fought. **** I just wanna scream it out!! Everyone is always in a whisper why dont we all just shout..?? Just listen to my thoughts for one minute, you couldn't understand because everything you know would be diminished, at the simple thought that my mind is something unfinished ughhh why dont u listen.. Its something your missin... Call me crazy but its only because your thoughts are hazy. I call you insane because you cant understand whats in my brain so really that would make me sane! I can spill out my thoughts like wrist bleeding from a rusty knife but you can never understand this life.. Become one with me and u'll see its right but at the end of the night, there never is any light. I hear them screaming but its whispers, screaming whispers... See things like that leave blisters! I can tell you secrets that would give you shivers, drinking away the thoughts and killing our livers. These thoughts sometimes they drive me crazy or am I going sane..... Go outside and listen to the rain, believe what u want but those drops penetrate and leave stains. Even when I try to let go, the only one there for me is my echo... Somewhere in a dark cave with just a candle lit, I talk to myself about all this ****! so while I sit there and I sit, a cool breeze blows by and that candle is no longer lit. That breeze, was the echo of my thoughts on this ****.

This meadow once a graceful place
Pathways to untold peace
Narrow corridors into the heartland of tranquility
Weaving in, out, around trees
Like perfectly formed webs
That glisten with morning dew
Even as the sun sets through the branches
Cascading this meadow with darkness
New Moon blanketing the meadow
With the hope of new light
The voices begin to play
Lullaby whispers dancing on leaves
Shaking tree limbs to the eerie silence
The nonexistent breeze
Carrying the meadow into ballrooms of vampiric flames
Thirsty for the life each tree branch holds
Silent meadow voices
Truly are silent
When meadows burn to the sound
Of crackling horror-stricken leaves
Curling under the immense heat
Fossilized in ashes
Making this once tranquil meadow
An ashen wasteland for silent meadow voices
Refusing to even open their tongues
To welcome the morning sun
Bringing new light
To the horror of silent meadow voices...silenced

Wild child space travel gypsy
       drunk    on     the cosmos
     churning a sensual pattern--
             melting         suns
with a carefree wink
as stars pour into her eyes
like a garnet shiraz
       spiraling
              in    tidal   waves
splashing in a crystal wine glass
     caressing
              her white light lips.

Planets dip and dangle around her hips
as the weight of the nebulous nectar whispers
                                       lullabies to her eyes
         as her incandescent            hair contours
    to copious glistening constellations  
rippling across her tired body
                 like ice dripping on a warm chest
vibrating    indigo       moonlight         jazz
enrapturing millions with her simple act of symphonic yawning
as the dusk light dawning over faces
embraces souls stirring--
her purring hip cat dreams
leave people like us with mouths agape
as her voluptuousness nape hushes
us with a supernova explosion of peace
oscillating between
each of our spirits.