Creative Writing
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Desert meUpon the frozen wastes,Beautiful woman, with heavy heart,And faceless expression.You have encountered too much, to see what I will become,Another parasite to drain lifeFrom hearts meant to be kept in books,Of memories that are laced in passion. No more futures to soil,Please do notPlea to me, to stop,For my body rotsAs you stare, to…
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No one had created the skies Embedded in blue As the children’s view of summertime, Like you. No one was so beautiful as you, Tiniest one. For when I swiped teardrops away From your tired eyes, I was left open, To dip my chin And drink from your heart. No one had looked so lovely…
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Drop whatever is troubling you, Beautiful one. The world and its pain, Soaked in Mother Earth, Has been left to me. We are not here to bruise ourselves, With dissatisfaction. Only by the whip of love Can we enslave ourselves, and confine ourselves In something more than bliss. Marriage is a haven, that piles itself…
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The face so delicate in the storm Of her heart, Wrenched in the loneliness Of where land meets betrayal. She is the Earth, So natural in her state When wanted to be left alone. We see the forests the same, Cut down, Only to repair itself, when alone. She goes to study her grief, Deep…
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Where so much pain Resides in the Hell, called Earth, I desire no more Than to raise you From where you walked, alone upon the road Where I found you. You beautiful one, Who has broken you? Who shall I cast my vengeance Upon, when my hands are not very gentle? You have wounds, You…
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To be fed, or to be led.To drink the dew that falls freelyFrom her open eyes,Before her mind opens even moreThan ever her heart was closedTo the air,To my stare,To myself, still awareFor her, to be there,Among all the facesThat come to shareTheir tears, and straw-like hairThat both fall into hands, so fair. Like a…
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She sits there With messages to every breath While eyes watch the sky and see death. Love had blown her eyes closed, Though her vision still notices Uncleaned sculptures, and sucking parasites, Deep within Heaven’s walls, Like an artist had never mentioned What a torment it would be To create. Like God would weep mercilessness…
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Two places to weep Of sun and moon, Scorn and solace. Like featherless birds, we shed something for nothing As just the specks that flake from skin, Brushed free from a crown of thorns, For we don’t even bleed. Our bitterness accompanies distress, Fields laced with wire, Our forms were disturbed without shelter, Without care.…
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Make me bleed Over thee The running wine from wrists that hold captives Riding endless currents To their bitterness. I have become one of my own, As just merely a vessel in these wrists. Love was once all we had For ourselves, And now I am fixated on the endless hurt, The endless war In…
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Like each pang of burn, Like every drop of sweat, To be hung From my cheeks, from my chin, There is you in mind For no reason at all. For I cannot discern The origin of this feeling. I cannot tell From what Hell, This anger springs from. It is just there And will not…
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When the tears stop flowing From the two sponges kept in sockets Floating atop lakes, Nestled before a mind, Where I gave up the sight for life, And the only vision before me Is a fleeting one. I saw her form, Bleeding upon the shore. Shells were fleeing From their mother. She was the broken…
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If I was never a poet, Pain would be so easy to feel. If I was never a poet, I would not care to see the outline of your face Embedded deep in memory. If I was never a poet, I’d not have fingers to press buttons Merged in the emotions, where I let tears…
