Poetry Magazine
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Is life this Piece upon piece, of open and ripe imagery In the whispered moments, Where I dreamed to hold you beside me? Do you still dream Of every love gone right? You would still like to Roll among the fog and embers Beneath the distant twilight. You would like to See me in my
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Ply acrossThe Earth, where our tears fallAs sweet as everythingWe have savored,To have each other,And nothing more. Beauty weakens me,When once I was atop mountainsOn my own. Now that mountain is above me,As I am peering up to a sun,Up to the hotness of ash. In my mouth,Your lips upon my tongue,I will always forgetThe
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Walk, will you do?Talk, will you go throughThe shed shredded tears, from a heart in the water?Are you to stalkNights away in our song?Love has never found a better place in your heartAs when you feltThe need to step away. And I’ve never seen so much gracePut in place,Walking in space, in the memory of
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The closing chapter,The ruined prestige,But, not the memory of what was held dearly,Though, lost like newborn petals,From the lips of a tamed Earth.Swept from my side, in the Hell of an eternal night.Lost, was my spirit, though the pride from this memoryRemains. One accomplishment,One woman,One love.Her face was all to smother tearsAway, were sadness to
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Where did we hide loveIn the desert or in the ocean?In the dryness of what was once the latter,Or in the wetness of what will be the former? There are moons to raiseAn ocean so wideAs the love that did resideIn the home called a cage.For a heart would be trapped in the ribsAs like
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I have run wavesOver your delicate mouth.You are everythingI have seen through the thick of time. I have pulled your limbs up,That have weighed so heavyFor you to carry.In your horror, you have stepped only with your demise. For bluest tears, to a delicate mouth,For everything I have else seen,To a mouth, the ocean’s current
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I desire the spotBeneath the breast of her.Though, her sighs show me to her eyes.And, I might have abandoned all recognition of herWere such colors before meTo never greet to me, such scenery. The space below her breast,The heart of hearts,The area I do desire toPenetrate.For this motion is emptiness,A mere lost moment. She shows
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Kisses are prettiness,Red with blood to dripOver mouths that have tastedThe virginity kept for many years,Upon groins made of shadow.Whatever was fewOf the daughters taken from hiding,Is now new,Fresh for the taking. Kisses for the mouth of a young girl dressed in white,She opened softness to the light,And drew her skirt to reveal beneathThe home
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What stones have encrusted themselvesInto a skull made of the bone, white as the snow,White as the emptiness of us both,White as the frozen look of us both.Love does not silence itself,Unless it come into your armsAnd attempt to heal itself. For love is but an infantThat never was in your womb.Love has only ever
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When love bleeds the marrowFrom loving bones,And when love bleeds the sorrowFrom miserable tombs,Beauty seems to never dieUpon your icy form. When I chose to love,I saw the ocean from miles apart,From it, and from yourself.Loneliness has surmounted itself,And my mind falls apart,On this writing. When love bleeds, and is coated with thorns,Is coated with
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The reason I hate you,Is because feeling is still aroundTo haunt my days.Feeling is the show of love, explosive and roundAs the heart, before becoming shattered.Like the vase without edges,Like the beauty without imperfection,For we are only distorted,When we’ve been squeezed of life,When we’ve been hurt. There is only one reason I hate you,And that
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What lonelinessIs left for me to wield!Like air to graspAs I fall,And it is nothing to hold.I once held onto a dream,A sight,A vision,Music blazed in my heart,Like a tempest, as love was my armor,My shield,I aimed for kisses to dispel your fears,It was merely the gesture for further tears.
Modern Romanticism 