[x]

I Don't Miss AdolescenceMy sister calls to ask me if I'll do her makeup;
Mami promised that she would, but she's tired
and screamed when Maria reminded her senior prom
is tonight. She says, "I have a hickey on my neck,
something she doesn't want to cover, and you've always
done a better job of highlighting the subtle graces
inherent to my bone structure, the angles we share."

I say, "That's okay, but I can't pick you up,"

so she arrives in a flourish of exasperations,
telling me all the family business, waving her nails
in my face and talking about the pain of her extensions.
She says, "Do you think we need yellow concealer?
I plan to take pictures, and the last

Onyx DreamsOnyx Dreams

Fluctuations of sound waves vibrate the floor,
While the lights of my room glow brilliantly,
But as time winds down and my energy starts its decline,
My vision gets blurry and listening becomes hearing,
And hearing becomes simple background noise,
While Palaceer Lazaro’s words become filmy intonations
Yet, still creating a motion picture full of abstract images,
In my mind full of words and phrases that do nothing but stay stagnant,
And Slumber begins to wrap her warm hands around my head,
As she sweetly begins to pull me into black depths of rest,
A state of unconsciousness that will take me on a journey,
Through the grey abyss we call the center of our nervous system,
And once I fall into the pit of nothingness, the pit of onyx, for those few hours,
I will transform into an atramentous being with aphotic wings,
Because “black is free……..”

You were cold insideYour lips tasted of
summer, of warm days and
cherry-flavoured ice,
relaxing by the
pool side and
smiling against the sun.

You should have been too hot,
too sticky, too humid.
You should have
overheated, should have
melted into your bones until
they turned to ashes, but
it never happened.

I suppose I should have
seen it coming, but
I was so moonstruck over
the way you said my name, so
in love with the idea
of love, that I
didn't notice the way
your eyes bled
winter.

7 - The Pet PoetI remember when Mommy bought you
a black-haired pet for your sweet sixteenth.
Its bronze collar said its name was "Poet."
You fed it noise from the out-of-tune piano,
intense moments involving flesh and razors,
and the occasional walk by the lake.

At first, he knew only the wolf's howl,
purging blood and flames onto the carpets.
Everywhere was a smell of extravagance --
like that woman's cheap perfume on the train to work.
But you cried a little less,
smiled a bit more.
And that was when Daddy stopped
trying to send it back to the shelter.

Soon, you even started watching T.V.
(and enjoyed food, dressed nice, made friends.)
But T

She's changedIf you looked at a little girl with big brown eyes and soft hair from the crown of her head
Her dreams would be big and her worries would be simple
And you’d say “She’ll be going places”

If you looked at a young girl with a toothy grin and a giddy laugh
Her pride would be strong and her conscience would be clear
And you’d say “She looks happy”

If you looked at a shy growing girl with her forehead covered and sleeves down to her fingertips
Her eyes would be distracted and her heart would be a drama queen
And you’d say “I don’t know who she is”

If you looked at a maturing girl

VIIEncore un peu de cendre
Au coin de tes lèvres
Parolescentes

J'épluche tes souhaits
Tu laves le ciel
En vain

Et dans ce vent chaud
Des milliers de pétales
De peau

nothing specialthey tell you not to give up
because you have potential--
and to the ones who simply enjoy
you're probably fantastic
but to those who do
you're simply mediocre,
nothing to bat an
eyelash at.

you're not quite bad enough
to quit, but you're not
great enough to be
remembered.

unrequitedyou make my words
gather at the hollows
of my throat
until i choke on them.

my fingers ache to
hold you--
but my eyes ache to
cry.

you're nothing but heart break
wrapped in a bow
of something beautiful,
like the dust of grace from
fallen angels.

i drink a little faster and
cry a little harder
because the way whiskey and tears
mingle on my lips
tastes suspiciously of love.

Thinking.Thinking without thought,
Not thinking about a lot.

Thinking about what it how it would be,
To have a thoughts as endless as the sea.

Thinking about the passing time,
About the mountains I have not climbed.

Thinking about a world gone by,
And about the big blue sky.

Thinking about love so sweet,
And of life crumbling at my feet.

To think about everything vast as it seems,
Would take as long as counting dreams.

So to think without a thought,
And not to think about a lot.

Would carry on an endless dream,
And let time unravel at it's seams.

SeppukuA blue sky greets me as I kneel to the ground.
I hear the rushing wind and the sacred water sound.
The cold, grey stone upon my knee,
As I prepare myself for eternity.

I take a solemn look at my silent crowd,
Those cruel, dark faces scream so loud.
They want me to do the final deed.
I'll plunge the tanto in. They'll see me bleed.

I look for a while at my full rice bowl,
And prepare for the next cycle of my soul.
What shall I be? A man or god?
Shall my next life be lived in the mud and sod?

I finish quickly so we don't delay.
By now the light is fading away.
I take up the pen and start to write,
To put brush to paper is one last delight.

"

Poem of the day 145 / Poeme du jour 145Une pluie d’hiver
sur les dunes
scalpées

A winter rain
on the scalped
dunes

Frantz, mai / may 2013

To Our Princess We Must GoHow dare you take from us our Princess!
How dare you cast away her light!
How dare you seize her from us!
We resist with all our might!
You saw the signs of her sadness!
You saw the signs of her dismay!
You saw the darkness growing!
‘Twas you who had betrayed!
Abduct from us our feathers!
Give us wings of flesh and bone!
Bear a mark upon us
We are loyal to the crescent throne!
Send us all up to her
And as you cast away this third
We will scorn and hate and curse you!
Dismiss us from the herd!
Don’t fret for long, dear Luna
For we are well upon our way!
May our presence to you be comfort
It’s at your side forever shall we sta

Petit OiseauDon’t move a muscle
I’m not even drawing in breath
Through my heart
Oh, such a tiny, naïve little thing!
Will she let me approach, if I’m careful enough?

Or will wings divide my intentions
Widening gaps from the soil to the sky
Soil in my hands, and
Purple stars in her breath
I could never hurt you, little pixie
My winged Thumbelina

I don’t move a muscle
I’m focusing on not drawing breath
Lungs contract
She gives me a heartwarming stare
And oh, I am moments away!

But stop! Coarse laughter sings
Dark notes that may injure her
But the dancer still hops, unaware
Of the tears designing my chee

The Boy Who WaitsThe train rolls past the selfish boy,
The boy who stands and waits forever,
The boy who watches the girl fly past,
And wishes she would get off at his stop.

The boy stuck in circles,
The boy who always needs help,
The shy boy with the social prowess of a shattered rock.

He waits and waits,
And every time she flies past,
He hopes and hopes.

She talks to him often,
But sometimes not so much,
He feels like he’s walking straight when she speaks,
Her words make sense to his boggled mind.

The boy at the station,
With eyes wide in anticipation,
The selfish boy who wishes good things to happen,
The boy who takes things for granted,
Who thin

Left AloneYou want me to leave you alone? I'll leave you alone.

You want me to buy you a cake and a knife? Sure I'll do that.

So, what else do you need me to do? OK. That should be easy to do.

Here I go, walking to and fro, to unknown destination just so I can please you.

You hate my guts, huh? Well, to be honest, and I will not lie, I hate your guts too.

You see me and I see you, walking past each other each and everyday - We do not smile.

I often invision you surrounded by flames and you invision me drowning in the sea.

And here is my question to you: Why do you hate me so much?

You snarl as you echo my words: Why do YOU hate me so much?

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A Message To GodWarm shelter in the hole at the end,
save me from the thunder of men.
I kiss the barrel to settle again.

My virtue left to make amends,
held down by right in words of pen.
Warm shelter in the hole at the end.

Soon a spread of black and red blend,
thus shall spill my lone, precious ken.
I kiss the barrel to settle again.

I lie in daylight alone with no friend,
locked in the cold dome of my own den.
Warm shelter in the hole at the end.

Life on one side with nothing to defend,
With god, it shivers in fright, amen.
I kiss the barrel to settle again.

Prepare the stamp and a letter to send.
The time has come to feel again.
Warm she

ReconnectThe tale of three broken down
in the end left to frown,
leads to the story of a crown.

A simple boy, light at heart,
searches for truth as a start,
begins a journey full of art.

Robbed of memory by the youth,
tricked into the darkest tooth.
Almost bitten, but freed by truth.

Left to slumber as he heals,
his nobodies free to feel,
only soon to be re-sealed.

Reborn, awaken, birth by sleep.
Again in a journey, falling deep.
Victory brings many to weep.

Never ending, now in the past.
A message given, delivered fast,
brings confusion, left quite vast.

A tale of three broken down
to a simple boy, light at heart.
Robbed of memory

The BattleToday is the day, so long have I waited.
Today I make fame, so long have I wanted.
Tonight I shall cry, either happy or nie.
Tonight I shall dine in glory, hands high.
I will fight with my life, my life I will fight.

Anxiety the devil, fear its ally.
Together they shake me, courage still I lie.
Preparation now done, one step left.
The journey across the bridge, so short yet extended.
Faith is my destiny, destiny is my faith.

Frightened by the fall, so deep I bawl.
Continuing with strength, I will gain control.
The light in the distance, is it friend or foe?
My feet still stepping, soon it will show.
I carry my sword, my sword ca

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358-2 Days

by ~link123555, Jul 7, 2010, 4:50:34 PM
Literature / Poetry / Narrative / Free Verse

358/2 Days

Let's follow the shadows into their realm,
a realm of utter darkness.
Let's bask ourselves in the beauty
of their pure and natural darkness.
Let the brightness in our eyes
quickly fall to black.
As the day may turn to night
let us enter that.
Let's enter this world hidden from the sun,
this world we never knew.
Let me and you live here as two
under a sky that is black and not blue,
and let us find eternity here
let us find the fountain of youth.

358-2 Daysby ~link123555

Literature / Poetry / Narrative / Free Verse

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I do believe this is a sonnet. Not exactly sure. Anyways, I was just thinkin about writing some poetry and for some reason I got this thing with writing about darkness. So I thought about what it would be like to be living in the world of a shadow. So I wrote the poem and then I got to the name. If you've seen my other stuff you might notice that the title is almost never mentioned in the poem, unless it is a song. Well I'm in this game series called Kingdom Hearts and the game I'm playing now was called "358/2 Days". If you play the game, you might get why it kinda makes sense, but I choose it because for those who haven't they can still make an interpretation of their own.

~~joy 0 0~~

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

Mood: Love

~Ebbaybbay Jul 7, 2010 Student Photographer

I LURVE it Ali!!!!

Hmmmm it made me think of going inside the Saqqara Pyramid!!!

Reply

~link123555 Jul 8, 2010

okay...?

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