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 Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:06 pm
Sorry it took so long to post some poetry. I was just trying to compile all of it. I have like 38 pages on poetry on Word (1 poem per page) and I really don't feel like posting THAT many poems. So, I'm only going to do some of my better (to me) poems.
Passing the City of Rising Sun
Like a bleeding wound from
a dying man, the sun casts
its last rays. The wind is dry
and muscular. It shoves the
leaves about- forcing them into
a cyclone. The gray-brown trees
tremble against the force. Their
bumbling branches bend and break;
scratching the tip of a sun-blocking
cloud that’s threatening to pour forth
its enraged entrails like that
of the man spewing his hatred out
upon the staggering town. Deaf
and desolate ears from hearing his
boisterous voice that broke the
sequence of days filled with
sad silence. Sitting on the
rotting wood of his abandoned
edifice looms his infamous cold
clammy chair. The chair that
once stood high and proud in
the vacant courthouse. He
sat there, his wicked power
merciless as he crippled and
condemned this godforsaken
town. It’s swallowed by the
shadows from his overcast
mansion. It grinned as the
town was quarantined to
the dark caverns of death
in each dwellers mind.
Their dreams are buried deep
within like the somber souls
resting in the fog filled cemetery.
It eats faith with its dead-end
cracking sidewalks and substantially
severed tombstones. The breeze of
the night smells sweet as it echoes
off the once inspirational epitaphs.
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:07 pm
His Life
On Picasso's "Old Guitarist"
Everyday-
He sits on the ground.
The store that slumps behind him
is much like he…
Old. Forsaken. Mostly
forgotten, but still remembered by those
that hold the past in
their eyes.
Everyday-
he waits for his inspiration.
The golden guitar accompanies his lingering.
Until…
At last!
Something sparks in his eyes!
He folds his feet in front of him;
silently thinking
as he picks up his best friend.
Ever so gently, he places
the instrument in his lap
like the wood the wood is the finest
of glass.
The muscles in his throat
tighten. The water in his eyes glisten.
He slowly bows his white head,
so to see, for one second, the present-
before his masterpiece.
His skeleton fingers slide
along the strings. He knows them
by heart.
His eyes close.
His mind opens.
From the pit of his stomach
his raspy voice fills his mouth;
he slowly exhales his song.
His fingers move
back and forth. Up and down.
The strings are old and rusty;
horribly out of tune;
but yet… the sound is
beautiful.
His black ragged clothes barely
move, as he continues his life;
told by the notes on his guitar.
Everyday.
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:08 pm
Juxtaposition on a Flood Plain
South of here sits a little town
by the name of Greendale,
The main road-
Ridge Avenue-
houses some of the oldest
Victorian style homes. With
their tall grandeur and
creamy color Italian arches…
they glisten in the air as
the sunshine bumps them.
Across the street of one such house
stood mine-
the white paint peeling
off the sides. I, eight years
old, stood on the decaying
deck in the back.
The end of my dirty backyard
began the ridge-
littered with years of broken toys.
Going passed the old fort, and
stopping at the water’s edge,
it was not a surprise the
cornfield was flooded, but
what swan in the water
was the talk of the town.
In the murky, shallow water
with the broken cornstalks
poking through, was a
Swan.
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:10 pm
Never Again
She walks down the dark sidewalk
whispering her dreams to the twinkle
of the eyes in the night. She lets her
breath escape her mouth so she can
stare at the icy fog encasing a small
section of oxygen. She smiles and
pulls the leather coat closer to her
body as the air drops a few degrees
from the slight breeze echoing off
the winter sky. The dull glow on the
road disperses as she heads away from
the acknowledged, and ambles towards the
path of the anonymous. She becomes
one with the shadows of the night.
Her eyes dance along the dark horizon
as her black hair flutters in the breeze.
The luminosity invades her rights as the street light
flickers on. It interrupts her movement with
the night. But now, she realizes she is
not alone. Still hidden in the murky air,
lurking behind a forsaken edifice
stands a man, a slimy grin stretching
across his malevolence face. She stands still,
the night backing her against the light
blinding her large, swollen eyes. The man
steps out, his speckled face in plain view.
The rain starts to trickle down as the man steps
close. No one wants this battle. She steps
back, and feels energy fly through her body
as she is shielded by the darkness. It protects her.
The light crawls forward as the man slowly
glides. The rain hold its breath. Inch by inch
he gains on the darkness. The shadows slowly
retreat until there’s nothing more. She closes
her eyes and feels the light penetrate every aspect
of her body that used to be hidden by the
darkness. She’s open to the world. She
opens and eyes, and stares into the glare
of the sun. All the thoughts of night
escape her mind as the numbing warmness
envelopes her body in a sea of rays.
She tries to blink, but her body refuses.
The snow around her melts. Her skin
turns red. She screams as she feels her
temperature slowly rising. She
can feel the mercury inside getting
too high. It’s going to break the
glass. The sun. It’s going to break her
head. It’s going to cause insanity.
She’s already seeing things.
She sees her coat melting. She feels
her hot breath roll off her tongue and
evaporate into the sun’s radiation.
She sees the evil man laughing at
her inhumane treatment. Her punishment.
She sees her heart inside of her pumping;
working her nerves. Trying to send
an SOS to her brain to calm down.
Her breaths become short. The sun starts
to dim. She feels her shadow attach to
her foot. Her breathing slows.
As the night circles around the victim,
the rain exhales its long awaited breathe
of relief. Only it’s sad. It sweeps her away.
The night hangs low in the sky, and
refuses to fight as the sun pokes
fun at it. The light realized how much
it hurt it’s brother- the night.
Never again will it happen.
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:11 pm
The Maiden
With a small sigh
the sparkle left her
empty. Her beautiful
soul hid in her
quarantined mind
marked as incurable
on her peach temple.
Like a butterfly
floating through
the morning mist
her hand raised to
her chin to support
her flower face-
wet with the
morning dew of
a solitary red rose.
The Earth glistened
as she walked among the
pollen flying like
faeries from their
small dandelion homes.
They danced around
her head until
the rain falls from
the silverfish clouds
lining the dark sky.
She hugs herself
as the rain kisses her
body. The wispy wind
wraps around her
cold embrace.
With a small sigh
the life escaped her
pale lips as she
fell into the opened
arms of mother earth.
The faeries danced
around her body,
reviving her long
lost hopeless heart.
Her eyes opened like
a flicker in the night.
She sat up and danced
with the moon and stars.
Flying twinkles
glowed on her peach skin.
The beautiful smell of
daisies overcame her
as she closed her eyes;
for the truth would
soon be discovered
in the field of
red, yellow, and purple
flowers singing the
dirge of death.
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:12 pm
Joy of Lies
The wind cataracts down from the stars-
it flogs the somber clouds and foliage.
It lands in her long hair, forcing it back.
Circling thoroughly, the brown spins and
sparkles in the glow of the setting sun.
It kisses her face and hugs her head
as a mother cradling and shielding
her infant from the world’s sleaze.
Corruption that takes the structure of
an militant trying to annihilate the
humanity for the greater good. The
elitist of Earth. She’s in love
with her psychosis as she reeks
and rapes the inert with the
deceit forced upon her by her milieu-
Where the sun scarcely ever shined
through the shadows of espionage.
The treachery made the sweat exude
from her concealed shape. All that no one
could perceive was the brown curls and
the contusions likely to be attained
from the simplest of Earth’s delights.
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:13 pm
Dear John, I Hope You Brought Your Oxford Dictionary
I have suffered too many
debacles. My debility is
that I'm decrepit and
practically defunct. I gave
you éclat and caused your
work to be a cynosure.
But now, I must exculpate
myself from this imbroglio.
You jejune imp- you had
the effrontery to not be absolutely
debonair to my true effulgence.
You emetically jilted my
jocund disposition. But now,
I know about your new
inamorata, your paramour. I’m
not irascible, but the fact that
you effaced yourself in this
relationship is now morose.
So, my evil persona non grata,
keep out of my pages for eternity!
Signed,
Webster
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:13 pm
The Last Trip
The night tiptoed around our misty breath that foisted with the air as we roamed the ancient parterre. The shackles were thrown on it years ago as conviction quarantined it from past memories. The fodder-like grass cushioned our secrets as we gazed at the broken sky. The soliloquy no one could hear solemnized with the stars of the fallacious familiarity. We took an alias and an alibi as the sun parted Heaven and Hell… an alembic to comfort humanity.
One could call this just, but not this time. The natural holster of odium disgusts even the greatest of villains. Our hands dropped to our sides as slowly as a fervent music note decimates the life once lived. Standing before us with a soft but minatory smile, he decried everything of the fallacious familiarity of our journey.
One could call this just with a daunting scream piercing through the red, apple tree garden. I stood as a dowager, but never a bride.
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:14 pm
Decision? Not Really.
I honestly can’t quite comprehend
it myself as to why I am so fascinated
by them-
Maybe it’s the mystery. Oh yes,
there are shadows that encircle
around them- forming a glorious,
dark mist of allure. They’re the
dark alley, cringing as the sunlight
emerges, threatening to take hold.
I stand below the sun and watch.
Every time I wait, I see the subtle
movements that just intrigue me more…
Maybe it’s the true but different
beauty that resonates off of them.
It’s like watching the green grass grow
with a certain feeling of nostalgia
washing over our insignificant lives.
But they…? They are everything.
They are nothing. You can either be
too verbose or too unvoiced. But with me-
I just believe that I silently speak.
I suppose that when it comes to these
matters of utter magnetism, one could
claim that those being observed might
be both mysterious and beautiful. I
believe they do… like two different
melodies of the sky and earth.
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:16 pm
Thinking With an Empty Brain
The blue dawn overcomes the
nightscape. The flames decompose
One. More. Time. If everyone
could write me a sentence, I
could trace it back to you. It’s
your identity. Let it annihilate you…
The bombs explode over the
quiescent city, but only the
wise understand the value of
One. Great. Show. Panic
and purity remain the same as
the alphabet retains the
different knowledges of great
thinkers and scientists.
Thinkers dream. Scientists develop.
But don’t worry, both are the
same. Like you and me. Unity.
One flag burns in the setting sunset
christening the pearl colored beaches
as its brother hangs against the
destruction of civilizations. Tell me
which is worse, but don’t respond to
me. You don’t know, and I don’t care.
I take to the shower to answer everything.
Each droplet gives an idea to complete
the process. Every radio commercial
feeds the twenty years of education
I’ve taken. I’m only 19. I’ll die when
new things are discovered. People
will laugh at our ideologies. So why
bother? Because history provides
not knowledge, but entertainment.
The nightscape screams at the
hollow dusk. An echo kidding
to their immorality. An echo
rendering and kissing their
departures, and after all
this time, it’s still morning.
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:16 pm
Moonlight Walks
Moonlight walks on a frozen desert never
seemed to be so deadly in real life. The
cinematic features were beaten to a bloody
mess with the arrow through the heart.
The air lamented in the sky for days
as the newspapers flapped about. Never
once giving in to the truth over the distilled
atmosphere. The immaculate chorus
hollowed out their eyes to tear apart the
gracing sunlight. Darkness upon darkness
surrounded by a hopeless moon glaring
overhead. No scream could pierce
the night this time. It was all too much.
The flawless fell from the clouds,
becoming tainted with the hatred ensued
by those unwillingly scorned. When will
you think of me? Cease forever.
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:18 pm
Sporadic
Sporadic breathing can become quite
formidable when darkness pierces
through your thin, white bones. Dust
is but a comfort for those drowning
in placidity. A beautiful sunset, the
orange, red, and yellow hues, scorns
and burns us as we no longer find
solace in the folds of the blanketed
sky. The twilight breathes out. The night brings
consolation, but without the effect of
organization, perception is a value below
reality. Vacuity is nothing new, though-
guaranteed. There is beauty in nothing but it's
absolutely and utterly devoid of anything.
Nothing left, but nothing. I could barely
see you within all the black. You would
never see me if my skin glowed like
a streetlight in the deep shadows.
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:19 pm
Promise Yourself This, Dear
Like a resonating song, the stars quickly
fade to beckon the new morning. Pity
surrounded as the sun refused to rise,
leaving the gray sky ugly in its wake. The
autumn leaves fall more deeply today, making
the trees’ simple arms become claws.
There was never a use for sadness, but
there has always been a need for simplicity
as the world turns and sense can no longer
achieve its definition. The striking hues
still outline, but are lamented in the still, yet crisp,
air. Time creeps at so burdensome a pace
when yearning stretches through the happiness
to end at something a little lower than desolate.
There is complexity in simplicity, but there
are still more stars yielding to a new day. One
more time as the rays shatter through the
intricacy to deliver and derive just what
one would truly desire without any strings;
in an immaculately pure state; devoid of stains
this time on the once more beautiful day.
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:20 pm
Dance Upon the Air, Live Amongst the Sky
Life seems so minuscule in contrast to
the setting sun over the endless scape.
The colors extend to eternity in the
flash of an eye. With another, they
blend with the unthinkable grief that
encompasses the juxtaposed dusk air.
You said: I hope you find solace in the
wilted petal of a rose, in the decaying wood
of an oak tree, in the tears of death...
but more importantly-
in the happiness in that which you most fear.
I stand quite differently now, the sun to
my back and the airstream to my face. I still
have yet to seek those ideals in which you
dream, but the yellow loss came much too soon.
You whispered names to my hair and
carved reveries on my clocks. I stand upon
the hill, overlooking he sun. I turned back now,
but you knew I would do this all along-
now didn’t you?
You clung to every thorn and listened to every
lightning bolt as a shooting star escaping the
sky’s chokehold. We stare at each other, silent:
Our lives are beautiful
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:22 pm
Famous
Bloody bandages can never attribute anything to vanity
you said I wear stars on my face and moonlights on my
dress. The night sky fills my hair, yet there is nothing
more ugly than that which filters my skin.
You could never utter the sentence. Never speak
such truth and wisdom beyond the calendar. Your eyes
always held ambiguous thoughts as they melted in the calm
air. Pearls did adorn your touch, but steeped within grew a mold
asphyxiated by rebellion. You know your rejection, but
still claim to hold an acceptance in society.
Hair strands frame your face- heart shaped. We knew that
they would never get passed the masquerade. Tears
dried in your hair as the societal outcry felt your suicide.
Who knew it would be for all the wrong reasons
Bloody bandages never did contribute to vanity
henceforth this darkened sky and myriad clouds
of gold. But dear-
you look horrible covered in diamonds and pills.
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