Poetry
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Those long melodiesplayed under phantom surroundings.Open mouths to scream about,closed eyes to block out light.You drifted, while I siftedin these ashes ofeverything around. All those words,written on black stones.Promises spoken, yet unheardby your heart on a pedestal.Walk, if you cantowards an ocean,far from land. I have burned all that can beeven a hopeful mimicry. Graces.…
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What releases,falling into heapsof your dust? I grewthese gardens, for yourrebirthed life. For yourtime to never stop. If you choose to,I will explore other mouthswith their wordsthat answer questions to stars,that drain confusion fromthis floating mind. I want to never hold closeshapeless grey. For years,you have strayed, withoutnoticing these tearsfloating your way. A common sign.…
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Broken twigs,cut fingers,wandering warriorbleeding Autumn into grey.If I led this heartacross unstable bridges,I meant to holdyour shivering hand. What keeps me unifiedin colors of white flags?What keeps me dragging cloudsthat hold buckets of water?What keeps me crying for Neptune,when Mars will war on? You face thosejeopardizing moments,sheltering your shadowsif to keep me at a distance,while…
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Leaders walk,stealing feverfrom broad sunspainting a horizonwith their delicate lash.Some foreign kiss,a graceful reminderthat all light runs lowthrough hollow veins,setting with stains. I can come tracingher marks, without gracingroyal sway on her tongue.She speaks, without movingher lips over me,her eyes searching for answers,her soul drunk upon huesin a monarch’s blues. Crashing dayin those mountains that…
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Under tranquil oceans,you were left, to be motionedtowards crippled shores.You wanted anotherto melt you offinto another sentencethat never unfolded. Desiring limping elementsto move on slowness,to you, among sands.Wrapping you into concealment,where weather, binds dropletsin your beaming eyes. Yearning for hope,for a star, never abandoningits dark cradle.A glimmer of something immaculateto move you, through voids,beneath where…
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Bleak waters.Wishing well,where I toss a coinoverboard. I mean tohold you, upon endless sands,counting grains, as you wouldsee that entire oceanas a mere stain. If you could float,if you could come upto surface yourself from tears,to block the sunfrom highlighting your fears.If you will see yourselfin a different light,I can come to bring you this…
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Tears fall fromfire-lit eyes.We have seen lighthousesguiding sinking ships,while we walk in puddlesas timebombs, underseconds that skip. In the fire,never carried higher.Pulling us downin heated embracesto see our reflectionsat an ocean’s bottom. Are we in love,when never abovethis shelter of frostbite,cold burns on our arms? Hell has causedour mutual loss.Burned imagesin a captured memory.We are…
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All of thishas a black ceiling.Your arms, curved shadows.Your shaped scars,straight, to that momentwhen you sentenced me todeath – of your oceans,blinded underwater,to keep darkening. Never shallowme. Never wallowwith me, whilemoons drift. A series ofreflections, from differentphases in thisplace of bitterness. I will never removethese portraits from thatdelicate background. Whatrises, from straight lines?I will remain…
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No sadness. Empathyhas remained a cruel uncoveringto artistic pain, beneath smog. To those inventions, of burning oil,setting flame to our skin.It lets our skin become sand,crafting our sands into mirrors,when pain regrows from grain. Endless tide,countless cries, once heard.Here, we always ignoreour choking sighs. Storms are under oceans,sands are infinite with stars. Fragmented lovenever grows…
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Hold thosefrozen tokens,those cold stonesaround your nakedthroat. You always spoke,while never listeningto what rain everbrought us, together. Life has a different noose.Tongues are tied, slipping.Knotted, while loose,inside your eyes, where hangteardrops that never let go,as we are arrangedin each other’s arms,as stark shadows. Life has a different place,where morbidity becomesclarity. These heartbreakingsymptoms we will cherish,while…
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I choose toconceal us, behindcurtains, mirrors,letting shards dig inwhere wounds were oncerevealed, in those fires. Smoke grows,blanketing us ina certain degree ofdarkness. When yourlips were fruit, I chose totake you down from a tree,to drink from you,my closest naivety. I choose tobury us, beneath fog.Under crimson daylight,where red lips weretorches, blood of smearsin a nighttime…
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Nose to skies.What comes down, first,to hold your discarded hand?You have sunk your soul,feet first into crude terrain,driving your windswith music, with rain. Those who have failedto gather you, to rememberyour face under a sunthat dimmed enough forstorms to come, have neverbeen haunted at whereyou were severed. Red-circled eyes. A strandedblossom, left in a burned-out…
Modern Romanticism 