Short Prose – 250 Words – “Height of Her Burial” – Love Story – 6/15/2021

Still-life. A stilled life. He weeps to form a garden made from her debris. He weeps, and he cannot even leave. He weeps the funeral back into togetherness, to the final time in being the blank witness to a sunshine that distanced itself so well. It was the final time to view the light, even as a slow-moving ray against his tear-stained cheeks. It was the moment to capture the togetherness of her, before slow decay became the unravelling.

He will go on, towards the lighthouse in his mind. He will shed tears to float backwards towards a grey sunset. He will set the scene upon the presence of the moon, folding messages for the wind to carry.

He will bleed his eyes to dried rivers. A drought, and then, another storm. More than all else, he will ruin himself as slow as she wilts inside the soil. Something is meant by this, while the rain from his eyes raises a garden from the grave. Among where she fell, was placed, was embraced by the silence inside where all else comes close, roots have begun to stretch.

A garden made of both grief and belief, that as something dies, another thing shall be raised. Towards the next sunrise, towards the sounds of another day.

Another face in the mirror to count the stars, within the everlasting journey to find a greater height. Beyond the melting bones, the scenery of silence being feared, the wasted breaths as sighs of grief made silver among winter.

Poem – “Reversing Tears” – Romanticism – 1/30/2021

Track your swum miles
Back to the reliving love,
Watered by the storms
We drew our arms through,
Together,

Keeping smiles on the pages
We turn,
Together, in a hold.

We hold history
Ever on page one,
Finding love in unending tears
Backtracked on the first mile
We ever sought to cross.

Oh, love,
Keep smiling
With waters to your naked heart
Leaning in reverse,
Falling upward.

Beauty
Closes curtains,
Nestled thus in the bed,
Not the coffin,
As coins drop from your cheeks,
Chancing this love,
Startled of you,
The bird from above.

We gamble
Forever, by the side
Of ever-growing storms,
Purging our happiness
For a time.

We bleed
To collect Heaven’s raindrops,
Arranging a smile upon a portrait,
Keeping truth decadent,
Precious and believed.

Quote – “Unity Between People” – 1/9/2021

“Distrust breeds itself upon those whose grudges bare themselves in remembrance. Memories that do linger, latch themselves as leeches to siphon away any thoughts of a future where hands are held, as steps are walked. Though, between those of shared pain, there is that hurt laying beneath the flames of anger. It is our ocean. It is our tears. For those who conceal their hurt with wrath, are those who simply pretend to be strong. True strength dwells in someone when they are past the pain, past those grudging remembrances, to where unity is formed by that pain being understood, and then, left behind for the green earth to be people’s hope.”

– Modern Romanticism

Poem – “The Dark of Peace” – Romance – 10/30/2020

Safety
Eludes the shores,
Of your form in the twist,
Of your shades to be kissed,
Of your wakefulness
Here to be missed.

When you open your mouth
To breathe your horrors,
Call through to me,
When I can weep alongside
The preciousness of you.

When you can sigh
Words that catch the slope
Of sand once fertile,
To new beginnings, I will run
Towards the holiest sun.

The love I hold
In this heart of golden texture
Has me sealed, to your emotion,
To the very motion
Of yourself in the sea,
Of your eyes to soon plea
That your suffering shall stop,
While waking in my arms.

Once more,
Once more
You will fold your tears
Against the barest flesh.

It is the final time
You will see wounds to be undressed,

Among the first time
To see the wildness becoming mildness.

Quote – “Corrupted Justice” – 9/9/2020

“The path to Justice is slender and perfidious, fraught with missteps of ambition and despair, egotism and doubt.

Should you choose this road, beware those who would waylay your hopes and disembowel your dreams.

Remain sure and remain true.”

– Path of Exile (Izaro Phrecius)

“The World goes Beyond the Hopeless” – Poem

The world swings letters

On jagged rocks,

Near an ocean, where wails from whales

Are the same sounds as the crying widow.

Love possesses dragon scales,

Covering the entrance of intrusion.

Beyond the wall that shields a person

From exploring the outermost,

And the wall goes aflame

In the current of disdain.

Those letters

Swung on the piece of wood, hung from two ropes

On rocks,

Spell out hope to a forlorn world,

Brimming in seeds running from the ocean’s mouth,

As collision is the cruel decision

Against a shore that sought not for the kiss,

But for the hopelessness of barrenness.

A Quote of Wisdom – “For Art to Grow…” – 3/7/2020

“For art to grow and prosper, it must be treated as any other life upon Earth. We are creations of other creations, are we not? Therefore, if art is merely ‘anything’, then it is ‘nothing’, referring the creators of this art to be those to keep people in their poverty. They dislike when anyone rises beyond their miserable states, deep in the gloom of being impoverished. Why would we not treat art as life, the creation as something that should rise beyond merely the ‘anything’ when we are impoverished? We treat hope as something barren, when impoverished. We treat people as those to be distrusted, as say that this is wise, when impoverished. ‘Poverty’ merely translates to ‘loss’, and the last thing we should lose, is our hope. When the artist creates art, they are creating life. Otherwise, they make themselves known to be a person who embeds the impoverished person in their state, should they treat ugliness the same as beauty.”

Poem – “A Face, and a Hollow Form” – Romance

My sweet, kiss my bitter lips.
My love, how shall we dine on my guilt?

My beauty, with everything sweet to see,
My bitterness, is yet exquisite.

Under moon and star,
Under faces apart,
In love and lust in fire,
Far, we walk, under the endless fog,
To find a memory that was once pleasant.
Dream with me, dear woman.

Your black hair comes in long strands,
Down to where it reaches your toes.
Your lashes, your eyes, and your fingers,
All have curves to see, alike the earth,
And its curvature.
See me as former, never as latter.

Rawest pain and purest shame,
Has encompassed me in highest notes.
There is memory in my mind,
Tears in my eyes,
Each one, dropping upon soil at my feet,
Feel this with me, dear woman.

Is there Hell to separate us?
Is there Heaven to unite us?

Is there family to be made,
When we die tonight on the frozen rocks?

Poem – “Bring me Hope” – Romance

She’s not in danger,
Not beneath me, the ruler to her
Naked empire; of boats upon smooth silk,
Of a navy that is swept in maddening winds
That speak in coldness of words.
Whispers that threaten and attempt
To subdue that which I desire.
They are voices from a different place.

She’s not in danger,
She, the woman whom I seek to gain,
As my love and my endless vision.
Her beauty makes a festival,
Her arms make a waterfall,
Her legs create the support.

Through a face and lips that show grace,
She says to me: –
“Unlike thou, who has faced perplexity,
I have felt so much love from thee,
There’s no unkindness in what you’ve shown,
Not from the murky nest of the mind you’ve grown.”

And so, her kindness comes to me,
As a mirror of what I behold to be.
Please, oh, beauty,
Offer me that hope,
Be the one I thirst for,
As the moon drains me, and the sun devours me.