Poem
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To that which freezes all divine breath,Of the sepulcher standing with flesh,She loves all that comes to armsMade of winter’s hanging boughs.She carves into herselfThe burns, the churns, of a wilted shrub.Of a heart that seeds itselfUpon the ground’s pithy,Of whispers come forcefully. She is kissedBy love,By something aboveHer breathing nostrils.While she looks up,The world
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Can it be here Where we stare Into our eyes, cold as one, Though, warm as none?
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Build the blocks to where I seeYour heart gravitating to me,The blood I forge to have me transferLove to let your wishes be answered.Sing your pleading songs of mercy,That I might end your sorrows down. Love stoops in its pull,Lust washes form in its lull.To sleep, we go, to end the keepOf arms that reach
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The dream, the dreamOf porcelain, so keen,Dancing about my mind, in its sleep,Waking to the sun for its keep.I dream with golden textures as its hue,Coddling the romance, becoming brand new. She sways,She sashays,With sparkles for resplendence,With agony for remembrance.I nurture her groundThat she might grow,I listen for soundsThat she might call back. I bleed
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I blacken, with such sounds,The motions of my feeble arms,The blue awakening of my skies,To drown in your cloudsThe harrowing blue curves of your tears. You count the petalsSpring unleashesTo the scented winds,Breathing sweetTouches of longing. You hold out a handThat I may kiss.You take a standWhere I may catch you,Should you fall. Your eyes,
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You seek rose where there are only throesOf winter’s disheartened remorse.White releases all the dread of a forlorn momentWhere existence compels imperfection.I kiss, and kiss, againThe breath of an exiting sighFrom two lips, raised highOn a contorted face that leaves us doubtfulWithin the greatest of love’s perfection. Through the darkYou seek winter’s throes.Disheartened remorseOf the
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You were two pieces to faultThe dagger thrust down the wrong edgeOf this fragmented hopeKept in a hollow heart.Unshaken symmetryKeeps love the holiest delusion.You grow tears like seeds for newest applesTo conjure up starved beginnings. My wings come unshaken,Broken, and tattered.All like the pride I destine myself with,To the pain that drives me down.The rain
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A great washTo my bleeding arms.A great streamTo where skin comes,Uncleaned.She is the bath to makeWithout puddlesTo leave.She is the musicOf no notes. My love cries the worldAsunder.My love screams the worldIn thunder. She is the serpentWithout a worldTo swim through.A long tail matches the longest river.A stream of matching tearsTo the one, with fangs,
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Without the flock,You are astray.Without the embraceFrom the wind, to thee,You are free,Though wild.Without seeing the sun,You darken before the moon. You bleed out old colors,To cover the newPages of forgotten worlds.Your lips touch the sky,Coloring yourself heavenly.You send out dropletsOf your blood-red tears.You are, in this world,A painting without a frame,A movement without a
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From the shadows,Show yourself.Spread your gleam,From legs, that are lean.Spread your stare,Catching much, so aware.Drown the blueInto the mountain’s white,As you may bathe the greenOf lazy summers,Of captured weathers,Of swaying leaves,Of turning brushIn the high-enough spillage of gold. Upon your shoulderIs nested your hand.We are as two warm loversIn the covering of mossOver stones.For we
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Are you here to findThe petals or the lost brushOf too many burned leaves?They have rained, you know,From a higher templeThan the one we’ve gathered ourselvesWith feet placedTo see the rising stars. Thy gaze,Thy mazeTo be lost inBeside the arms that reachLike boughs,Like the gloom,Like the shadowsThat grow longer by your fallen eyelids. I am
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Step away,Dear DevilFrom your sepulcherOf dancing flames,Of chilled embers,I wish to breathe,I wish to breathe. I wish to sing songs away from sadness,I wish to dance, parted from the blackOf decay and sickness. Your eyes,Your smile,Your way to walkWith each swaying curveOf your falling blouse,Of your running dress. Your green eyes,Wild as the fields they
Modern Romanticism 