[x]

My Beautiful DisasterBroken boy
with your coffee
and cigarettes
I should have been
forewarned to stay away
but your lips
curved in a cynical smile
and your eyes
saw the bitterness of the world,
I longed for your artist's fingers
to give me a caress,
I see you smoking in bed
among twisted sheets
while we for a moment
forget the pain of the world,
but in the end we are
destined to destroy each other,
it was never love
that drew us together
but the beauty of your mind
and the languid litheness of your body,
the cracks in your heart,
and despair in your soul,
but I was never the one
to give you what you require,
you are an ideal
I desired

InhumanYour lies are so much more beautiful
than the truths you attempt to tell,
how I dislike the efforts you make
to be noble, it ill suits you
and your goodness holds no interest to me.

Why must we play that game
of pretending to care,
it is the moments of brutality
that spark your eyes which arouse my interest.

I prefer to think of you bloody
not draped in white,
you see with you I don't have to
masquerade as a better person.

There are times, frightening and sublime
when I feel I could throw it all away,
and walk the savage war path
without ever looking back.

But you hesitate and falter,
I do not believe in your guilt,

Icarus DreamsHe had Icarus dreams,
it was not for the flight
that he longed.

But the descent,
the freedom of the fall,
abandon, out of control,
between life and death.

For that one beautiful
moment, you gave yourself up
entirely.

The Girl Who Fled From BeautyShe watched beauty from afar,
it appeared as something alien to her,
she felt no envy of it,
it was too distant from her,
that it became only an abstract concept.

Moths fluttered in her head
in soft soundless whispers,
she watched the world fade
with a child-like sense of wonder,
she knew not of fear
for it is only a delusion.

Yet she lived in a world of illusion,
she liked to pluck the stars
out of the sky and they became her eyes,
until in time they burned out,
she never understood that she was
supposed to feel pain.

She hid behind glass walls
for others could only see
reflections of what they already believe,

Drinking DeathI enjoy drinking death
the way it lingers on,
like a cherry
upon my tongue.

It is inexhaustible,
sweet with a touch
of bitter tang,
the aftertaste
blows my mind away.

I savor it as an
after diner mint,
strange, refreshing,
it fizzles and burns
just around the edges.

It is a delicacy
from exotic locations,
an acquired taste
not intended for the
weak of heart or mind.

But it elevates me
when taken in just
the right dosage.

Like opium you need
to find the balance,
too easy to slip
too far one way
or the other.

For once you have had
your first drink of death
and it courses through
your bloodstream
there i

Rain Rain
Time dipped its frozen fingertips
in the waters of my bones,
wringing them dry of once purple skies
and smoothing away gentle grooves of nostalgia;
a topless render to my optimistic lens.

The sky began to fade like a freshly broken bruise:
Red, orange, yellow, green, purple, black, white.
a pallet of sour syllables that settled in my teeth
& festered deep within the crooked corners of my mouth,
occasional expressions pulsing through uncharted steam.

Bitterly dissolving like the powder of an hourglass
It drips like dew across my window &
nestles in the crooks, the kind of way a comma
hugs the corners of an 'n'.

rain, go away.

PainHe likes the smell of the fresh paint in cans
When the woman he loves has other plans
He likes rapid brush strokes and the color red
When all of the fights they've had run through his head
He likes textured paintings with themes you can touch
When his wife's infidelity's finally too much

She likes the sound of a minor chord
When her boyfriend pushes her because he's bored
She likes distortion on electric guitars
When he doesn't back down and makes her go too far
She likes poignant verses and vocals that roar
When her body is ravaged and her heart is sore

They like their pain to be on display
When it makes people feel a bit of the

Note To SelfTruth is, I don't know anymore.

Every string, unwinding, unweaving.
The unlikely demise of a tapestry.
The tapestry.
My tapestry.

I'd like to remind you of… well, a lot of things.
Everything.
Everyone.

And I'm sorry, but there's no theme.
No message to be had.
These are just words.
I am just words.

The Dragonflies Are DyingThe dragonflies are dying,
their season almost past.

A Banded Pennant flourishes,
suspended in mid-flight.
A Migrant Hawker wanders lost and content.

Time quickens around each
stealing the wind on which they are upheld,
and turning their garden
from grace to fallow oblivion.

But what does a dragonfly know of time
...or care of Death?

I am the Dancing Jewel! Hagen's Sprite!
The Comet which Darners!
I will dance with my damsel.

She veers, a Jaunty Dropwing left.
I, the Broad Bodied Chaser, follow
slicing the breeze with my buzz-song!

I shout my true name as I soar.
Knowing only sky and cloud,
wind and air.

Forever is the

The Blind WitnessGouging out the innocence from my eyes,
Bleeding red under the blackest sweet skies.
When all I witness before me is dour death,
Under bleak air that freezes all but frigid breath,
Where nothing screams but their silent lost cries.

Plucking out the oppulence from my mind,
Burning amber along the whitest loneliest line.
When all I witness before me is stale suicide,
Beside meek water that pleases all but morbid homicide,
Where nothing sleeps but their violet empty wine.

Sucking out the exuberance from my visage,
Boiling green above the gravest murder machine.
When all I witness before me is twisted terrorisation,
Opposite weak sa

Os(Iris)Your eyes are like a city
filled with pedestrians and over-
grown footpaths;
Schoolboys hopping fences
as soldiers return from war.

There are tales of love
and loss to be found here,
between the Parisien cafés
and Dutch bicycle paths.

Down desolate alleyways
I found you again and again,
buried beneath the ruins
of old monuments;
I hear you sighing as you
rebuild them, piece by piece,
muttering only the word
'if'.

If only you could see this city
and the landscape that surrounds it,
the sprawling vistas and
hidden crawlspaces;

You would know the
heartache of being and
the beauty of living.

You are all that is known

I owe you a favor, I owe you a songthe day old smoke turns into week old hate,
this sky is gray and I am blue,

I look to the clouds, they are month old plumes of heartbreak,
just meandering,

just managing to get by,

and here I am, falling asleep in the windowsill
broken crystals of glass digging into my back
but after a coma, one gets used to discomfort,

I can't bring myself to go outside,

I'm so afraid the world will cease to be, and the sky will fall and crush me,
the night is better, so rarely am I asleep but I am always at least dreaming,
the ceiling becomes a containment mechanism,
for my ballooning, vacationing head,

my closed eyes flicker, a dry smile,

a

The Straw HouseLittle pig, little pig,
Let me come in.
Do you remember when fancies were shiny and new?
There wasn't a hair on your chinny-chin-chin,
And our toes chilled on floorboards 'fore we dipped them in,
Our mothers held us tightly; our troubles were few.

Little pig, little pig,
Tell me the time?
Am I too rough and ragged, a gruff wolverine?
You once talked for hours, sharing tales and rhymes
Eyes alight in the spilling of secrets sublime
And now I'm too sickly and grey to be seen.

Little pig, little pig,
Just spare me a glance,
Or a word or a smile or a sentence or two.
I don't ask for blessings, I don't want to dance
Or to sing or w

the fuguebetween un- and consciousness
it seems the toll is cheap;
sometimes i'm wholly dreaming
before i'm full sleep.
the train of thought i'm riding
when pillow meets with head
soon jumps the tracks for new stops
between wonder and dread.
the return trip: just as odd;
surreal melts into real.
i'm left straddling the cusp
between two worlds revealed.

LovelornI lost the love that once was mine
now alone I watch the moon,
and my lover no longer my own
caught within it's round eye,
beneath the stars we are apart
yet still connected, his sky is mine
and the constellations connect the dots,
and yet no longer may I harbor him
in my heart, our love eclipsed,
and he became a distant celestial body
floating out of my reach, but still ever present,
and so my thoughts are caught
within his orbit, but unlike Icarus
never will I draw close enough
to be burned through by him,
so his touch will remain ever elusive.

It was by fate as two lost souls
cast adrift upon the galactic sea
we w

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SnowPlacid snow
drifting quietly
through the night
arriving
as the killer in shadow
utterly unknown

The History of Art in WordsThe colors melt
down the walls,
fading, loosing focus,
realigning, sharpening,
obscured, twisting
into new dimensions,
shapes emerge,
redefine,
hover, collide,
appear and disappear,
hard edges,
smoothing out,
organic,
geometric,
a face,
a distortion,
mismatched,
nothing but lines,
loopy, sweeping,
graceful
or ragged and bitter,
as tears upon a canvas,
a hidden grim smile,
beauty,
grotesque,
masquerading
truth and lies,
revealing and hiding
evolving.

Pharaoh and His WifeBeneath the ancient skies
two lovers, hand in hand
walk together under a vastness
of the stars.

They approach
a world of uncertainty,
on the cusp of everything,
where power ripples as the sands
beneath their feet,
to dissipate at any moment.

To each other they cling,
to hold it together,
they stand tall bearing the weight
of the world upon their shoulders.

The gods watching above,
with critical eye
expecting to mold the divine
within mortal flesh
in their earthly representatives.

And rise or fall in time
they will become immortalized,
captured in one stolen moment
as but two lovers beneath
an ancient sky.

Winter Is ComingWhispers in the night on the breath of the wind,
isolated souls lost amid the darkness,
nothing but the silence, and a distant beat of a heart,
two lovers that have never seen, and never touched
entwined unknowingly, their shadows pass through one another,
restless they stir beginning to drift together.

Indigo the stars appear reflecting upon the frosty ground,
serene as only death can be in alabaster beauty.

Clasped hands, two lone bodies draw together for warmth,
oblivion awaits them just upon the edge,
momentarily they may avoid it, having found each other at last,
insistent the truth cleaves between them,
nevermore may the

Dreamers of the SeaDreamers of the sea
gaze wonderingly at the vast
uncharted beyond
while wistfully hoping to be swept
away to the far side of the world,
somewhere unknown
unseen
and each waking hour will bring
a new discovery,
but they remain trapped
in life's frivolities,
and tiresome idle pleasures
that bring little joy,
only expectation,
but they do not give up
that some day
their tide will come in
and carry them
far
far
far

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Submitted: August 15, 2012
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Scentless Rose

by *SilverWynd, Aug 15, 2012, 8:40:28 PM
Literature / Poetry / Romantic / General / Free Verse

My love is a rose
of all thorns,
a scentless flower,
all monochrome.

I am a stormy gray day,
of heavy clouds
impregnated
only with bleak misery,
ready to descend.

At rare moments
I might appear
sepia toned,
my love can be found
in all the old photographs,
yellowed around the edges,
smiles starting to fade,

I know I am a cracked vase,
of little use,
no longer a water bearing urn,
no more for holding
beautiful frivolities,
but gathering dust,
where spiders dwell.

A deteriorating fresco
my colors do not shine,
and I exude an atmosphere
of dungeon dampness,
with cold stone floors.

My love is an artifact
forgotten in attics,
while I gather mothballs
living only within shattered
memories and broken dreams.

Scentless Roseby *SilverWynd

Literature / Poetry / Romantic / General / Free Verse

none

love 1 1

joy 1 1

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~Enemom Feb 3, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

This is simply beautiful. The rose comparison is fabulously incredible. This is a poem that will go into my favorites.

*SilverWynd Feb 3, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Thank you very much

~Enemom Feb 3, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

You're welcome.

~BelaRoseWolf Aug 16, 2012 Student Writer

I really loved the symbolism and comparisons in your poem. Awesome work! ^^

*SilverWynd Aug 16, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Thank you!

~BelaRoseWolf Aug 16, 2012 Student Writer

You're welcome!

*wizillusions Aug 16, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Excellent writing with so many wonderful comparisons.

These I found most intriguing.

a scentless flower,
all monochrome.

of dungeon dampness,
with cold stone floors.

*SilverWynd Aug 16, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Thank you!

~Tributes13 Aug 15, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Silver, can I like steal your brain *Gets knives out* because that ^ is FLIPPIN' AMAZING!!!!!!

*SilverWynd Aug 15, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Hahaha thank you, taking my brain is not recommended for your sanity.

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