Streetlights are calling, Time has run over But stay. The path laid before Is crooked, but does not err, The destination is true. There’s a spark in your soul I believe in. Near to the ache, Driven wildly intense. Let the patience intend, Let it spare to be, Desire waits at the gate Of the tributaries ran free. Taken up by the current To the ocean inclined. Turn. Turn in need, Be the shoulder of sound When wind breaks the reed. When the clouds have fallen The mists are the shroud. Nothing at arms-length Makes sense anyhow.
Category: poetry
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The box left out depicts of sizeable hardships, How sharp are the pieces and broken apart. For better was easy, for worse made us queasy The true nature of intent in our beating hearts. Fear will pursue me and often times use me To shy from old conflicts and resolves at play. Fighting through years brings heartache and tears, How can I live once you walk away? The best will hide like serpents in pride And turnover hide bringing smiles at bay. I will carry you even when you can’t love me No matter the status, so what do you say? When the hearts and souls are scattered like pieces Across every cavern and crevice and clay Will you still hold me, rise like a Phoenix above me, In the dark would you light me, and love me anyway?
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Scars are plowed experiences Waiting for memories to rise. Blooming reminders of pain and Discomfort buried in life. Harvesting the fruits and spoils Propagating the fallen seeds Into unsoiled fertile grounds To produce stalks without leaves. So when the plantation spans Distances encumbered by time How many moons will rise Before colorful letters become blind? When the winds rise with dust And noise drowns intimate words, Will pride still swell with the tides? Will best intentions meld and blur?
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Drifting on resonant waves Dreams are no longer irrelevant. The hearth still glowing Embers outburning snuff. Careening back and forth Through forgotten corners Immovable in the presence Of Aphrodite’s chariot Yet, misunderstood in gages. Know the heart, see the self. Enveloped in admiration. Be consumed in propensity, Haunt the world from the soul, Overtop and underneath. Curiousity will fill the mind And devour the hours. Why is returning to comfort The inevitable tomestone? Covered over like honey And a weighted concoction. Visions are lies we believe As faces and words are To devoted hearts and Delivered on golden platters, Distanced from the grieving. When the murk of reality Lies too far apart from The roses of the notional Stretch your arms across That teetered bridge And pull her closer Toward that daring edge. She’s waiting to roll the Credits that satisfy the story Should you release her, Set her free on unending wings Circling in all her glory. As you take your leave As the eternal days do pass As she leaves you reaching For the family hammercloth Breathless on golden streets. Enduring and perpetual Like the music of your soul. Leaden and outflowing With burdened control.
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If it were amaranthine Before infinity was met, Passion would exhaust, Tension would deplete. But when the body strains And struggles for breath, When minds escape And collapse in stress, When limits have margins And time strives forward; In that duality, A discovery unfolds. A magnetism, drawing near An inviting engine: What a restive thing, The body is. Is flesh not the way To drink from otherhood, To taste the not-I, Satiate the ever-flowing Fountain of appentence, To see the unhinged Limitless beauty of creation, To blur the edges of truth, And feel the authenticity Of her?
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Pour out another. The clock’s still ticking. Put the bottle down, On mahogany. A beautiful shape, Splendid to behold, Small, petite, entrancing, Fullbodied and bold. But the spells within, Are the treasure sought, The golden brown elixir, Drowns unbridled wants. Glasses filled half full, In flasks or in slings, On the rocks or neat, It’s always warming. Tempts on long sips Bring on thoughts belayed. Full lips craving more And beg, “one more taste,” Asi que bebe Y despacio. Drops won’t be wasted On tossed Romeo.
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We exist, often to become lost And an evolution of some precious thing. Waste away, gamble everything. If you truly are a human being. Become volcanic with verse A kinetic sculpture of surprise Enchanted with rhythm A enveloped chasm in disguise. Become that rare miracle, Too mesmerized to speak, When a translation, an interpretation Stops being repetition and becomes The new original, the new unique.
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He dreamed, they rode chance Passed the dunes one night. Danced in the shallows Walked along the receding sea The sand malleable beneath Their unshodden feet. Listened to her voice ring Above the rattling waves Pushing and pulling As she had crashed into him. He would fall silent. Pondering her And the intricacy in design Of her consignation. He has been lost in her Before that star began burning, Before the sediment was brushed Upon this barren shore, Since time was conceived.
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The white light In the glowing sky, Troubled the ebb And flow of his heart. Rising to her where She may appear, Tides drawn across The rocks of his expanse, He dances in waves, Rippling from the deep, Across his body To his worn shores. Always connected, Drawing together, Always apart.
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The hands turn over,
Sands fall, scars fade,
Glasses runs empty,
Memories still remain.
They can lay in the weather,
Battle the storms,
Or hoist the sails off
To places held warm.
The ground will shake,
They’ll regain their legs,
But he won’t lose to pain,
No matter how hard it begs.
The places she chooses,
Delicate, desolate, or dirty.
As long as she’s there,
Is where he will be. -
Closed off to apertion, In time we learn to forget The coarse scrim obscuring Our worn out portraits. Lost in details of moments writ, And color the words we know. No matter the indistancy, I am so far from home. When you are deconstructing, Or renewing me from incomplete, The moon and stars darker still, From every battlefield you retreat. Words don’t match the moves. Secret truths and honest lies. You know the dam is building up And you scrutinize my disguise. Hold my dreams to the stone, Grind out what the evenings meant. I don’t fight the nightmares anymore, I’ve been falling from the indesinent. Be honest, be something real. Say the words that break me. I’ll pick up the pieces one day, You’re the gold that’ll recreate me.
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Silence is decorating This overclouded windshield. My mind wanders in And out of diluted thinking. You captivate the splendor. Your words ring with zeal Through the draggle and tint. I fight the frisson bounding Across my reveled skin From your cuddled embrace.
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calloused hands over troubled walls have yet to reach the edge cliffs and canyons caverned and creviced stalled in safety and cordials hanging on to implicated emphasis whenever inspiration runs dry passion is inflamed by the sirens sullen songs sordid melodies only satisfy this yearning heart with a burning light and darkness le marin is present within the quiet stillness and the raging chaos overtakes the sirens content shaking the core of her soul making all of her feel and nothing like it before or again
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who can observe the weight of the world underfoot present above atlass weights wind and sunshine surrounding but absent from times degrade who can believe the beauty in unspoken words that radiate from a throbbing mind the warmth burns a tender heart in actions undefined never know what the future holds whos to say or speak out truth and whos to say wholl be left behind when nothing they say can improve who can feel broken vases living in wilted embrace scattered stilled sorrowed essential golden lacquer mended and whole the hidden smile of elegant potential who can feel empty pages on unadulterated canvases untouched pencils sharpened and stored the pen is filled the bottle full let it pour into the worlds reward out in the world behind closed doors who can be tasked when the world goes dark could questions be asked who would explain who is to blame and who will be excused for nobody wants more or more of the muse
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landscapes escape and reshape the places burned in memories and etched in dreams behind closed eyes the vibrant hilled spaces and darkened valleyed plains contrast to extremes the muse stands ashore le marin drifts from ethereal to real close enough to touch yet stoically unaffected feel what the rocking ship feels ache the way creaking wood aches yearn how le marin yearns if only a distant heart could sail and sail until it is breathily grounded capsized and stranded at dolorous lowtide
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drag the chains through obdure and injure attached to the pit of the soul spike the tears some sorrow with ginger to let go a little self control turn down the lights with faders and switches crawl back into a delirious hole strike the match clear out sinus and itches warm the heart from the cold
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What’s your favorite candy?
dusted with sugar tickle the tip of this eager tongue sweet to the taste unwrap the paper bare subtle fruit sing satisfaction from navel to waist bring down the curtain crash concentration lost in deliberate pace crushed by the consumption hungry with the sight of that beautiful face
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on a stage with gilded wealth dare not show off the truest self like swans that fly over glossy lakes tips bat down and ripple wakes to draw the courage from inside the mirror show ones lesser side perhaps the pen will notice now how much plumage was endowed pass this paddle from buoyant sin beware the faced forgery hint
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Do you need a break? From what?
bring the burden
shoulders are broad
and can carry the weight
bring the labor
hands are calloused
and desire the freight
bring the stress
the mind has been focused
by the grind of learning
but the longing
the heart can no more
bare the hours of yearning -
key the pad against the rock
disagree now fly the flock
shake the tatters and the string
call out now let the raven sing
weak and dragging with dirty feet
near to tree and crooked creek
stand alone in dressed up fields
shouting for heaven to reveal
a sign of hope to grant new strength
a dire wolf doth rise from the lake
white and shadowed in glorious light
grin and bear and bleed with bite
come again tomorrow son
soon youll have the grit to be someone -
The most important invention in your lifetime is…
spark in the dark
illuminate blue light
break the bloom of
discouraged night
drum up the ding
ribbons fall and fade
endorphins rise
show that 1 again
surrounded by red
in honored oblivion
misguided excitement
back to obsidian -
I’ve called her name, and the birthmark bore. Still searching awaiting the caress of her skin. She wanders, believing she’s been forgotten. But time does not bend to wishes or mend, The lost or yearning souls in sorrowed times. I have called her name. The stars personify. I implore, let her eyes ponder the same sky. Her soul tinted, the same eternal mark as mine.
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Describe your most ideal day from begining to end.
as shadows crawl away
breath releases
from full proxy lips
breaking silent dreams
across animated thoughts
messages sent warm
weary eyes and
curl terse cheeks
to brighten long hours
hoped is gleamed
cozy weaned moments
drift into hands
subtle kisses fade
the drolling day off
passionate cliffs -
Bleak, muted, settled in sentiment. I wallowed in the moments and reasons, And wore misery like a tailored suit in season. The degraded colors hung around me, A gentle reminder of impermanence. Like the shedding of skin, so easily shrugged. And as the warmth and joy faded from the world They gasped and lost their breath of wind. My heart stopped beating and only, Whispered echoes resounded from within. Until, She came, as brilliant as the rising sun, And settled into the crevices of my rimose soul. All my overgrown insecurities defoliated, Giving way as new blossoms are sprung. She floats along elegant as the lotus. Sweet on the surface and pure of her thoughts. She drifts unweighted by opinion or intensity, And incognizant of the depths upon which she persists. She brings within me a peace of mind. As I hope she finds a mirrored comfort in me.
lokikone(writing) 