Creative Writing
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I thought with life upon a wire,I could aim a little higher.Force me behind a cageFor I should never swayWith you in arms, ever again. I am without control,Just the beast with nothing to holdBut his own entrails,His guilt,His form that has scarred the landscapeBy simply being here. Please let me lay aloneIn the open…
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I will nowLick the tears away from those sorry cheeks,Nothing has looked so worn and bleak,Miserable beauty. Please allow meTo crown thee,To wed thee,If not of the ceremony, then of the forgivenessThat pools beneath our feet. I have loathed youFor no reason at all.I admire my guiltPerhaps more than I loved you. Your eyes glistenBeneath…
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For more similar posts, visit this site: https://ricoveteran.wordpress.com/ /Missed Call /Incoming Voicemail Hello, my friend.I am saddened by the fact that you have locked all doors to me.These are the doors I can’t unshut. These are the nightmares that bind me to the past.And now I sit here knocking, hoping for the door to open,…
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The outline to her risqué shape, conjures up in Alessio’s mind the image of lust, dangling on the edge of canyon cliffs. As though he were the coyote to find the scrap of flesh, unknowing of the trap to bring him high. He would fall to bleed in her, a love that reaches miles across…
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She soars, as a phantomBled by distant romance.Upon the halo’s entrance,Smiles were eclipsedFrom her place in the skyTo the Earth where she dies. Float past meTo the fear you know so well.Fly to the wind, that embraces theeAmong all of you, so torn. I’ll kiss, though will not kiss, againThe hollow eyes that see only…
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No longer shed the tears,No longer shed the struggle.You collapse on knees as old as the stones behind you,That you drag.Though, your nakednessHas been something to kissFor beauty’s sake. Life has stepping stones,Not weights for shoulders. Love searches for paths in bones,Calling a ring up to ears that sting. Once I saw you undressed near…
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You feel the ropeWrapped around your feet?You feel the eyesPouring a stare upon your handsWhile all you holdAre the tears, from the night? Do you feel the loveBreathing over you,Bleeding beloved? Do you feel the burnOf my armsAgainst your cold skin? I grew to be your King,My darling woman,So that I may set you on…
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Petticoat and petticoat, as is the collection for a woman’s wardrobe, during this hearty time of the 1950’s. Paris is a splendor for attentive glances over the shops. What is there for glimpses, other than what leaves treasured scents from neck and cheeks as deep in pallor with white as a silken blouse? Love leaves…
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Life has giftsOf dying oldGiven unto the youngWho treasure what is hungAbove in the sky, where tears fall loosely. Your eyes sungWith higher choirsThan ever did your mouth, breathing out your screamsTo my open ears,My open arms. Life is a peddled roadFull of moments, stolenAway from where cliffs offer the racing childrenWho shall not become…
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My eyes turn towards where you sail,And, also swim.My eyes turn towards where you screamOn a subtle whim. You ride the currents above my stare,Because that is where my loathing has its bathing.You row oars across the sadness,Beneath the starry nightOf our mourning.You have chosen the straw closest to my heart,That was also the shortest.…
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From my mouth, bellows howlsTo the moon, from the wretchedness I have become. From my eyes, there come steamAfter many long night in woeful screams. From my eyes, there soars the skiesAnd the creatures that sail upon my backDrink me, the martyr,The one who died for another.She lays floatingUpon a lake, with lifelessness to every…
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Life could not thaw the ice from beneath your eyelids,Nor breed flame inside your heart.You were destined to leave this Earth behind, to me,To the oceans, that cross beneath my feet. I once held your head in my arms,Tired as it was.I once kissed the face that bled me tears,For I grew at once, the…
Modern Romanticism 