Poetry
-
What manHas dared to bend his time,Freely, for the things he does wrongFrom all else, he could belong? The witnessBrought forth, with no happiness,No bandages to bringRepair to the fading trenchOf veinsIn this swollen heart. The love, tried to the guiltOf brokennessIn the commandment of the crippled,Among all thoseBorn to weep, die to wilt. Faces…
-
Envy only the trophiesThe world has sputtered forth,Bleeding majestic statusFor your feet to walk. Kind crueltyBares a pair of shimmering shoulders,Wanting with your fingers pressedTo the bone of your vacant image. To the discovered fossil,Of porcelain against your arrayOf fog upon this doomsday,The painting has become the decay. Walking uponBlood-stained stained-glass,With a lucid smile,Warped by…
-
Upon heaped-up gardensDressed of you in finest embroidery,Comes the first stepInto the dance between two star-lights,Living love. Walk now,Up to the altar for your arrangement,For no second man shall claim you,Even upon the dayWhen your heart stops. Here isA ticket to your reclamation,While beauty is braidedIn every tress raining from your head,In the fog of…
-
How is itOf death,Of such a brightWinter’s delight,Weighted across the debrisOf scattered tresses,That anything could possibly matter? Of fallen leavesTo the descension of snowsFrom arid heavens,What builds of this rejection?What eruptsOut of this insurrection? Of love called to a door,Of feet carried to be imploredThat the day falls more triumphantlyThan the night,While stars leave their…
-
Bandage these wrists,For the blood is his to tell.The fable that runsIn idle smoothness, of salient releaseTo the deep-red wine of an hourglass,With roses, many for their petals,Crushed as hearts,In their due time. Wandering in the voyageOf pages, thickened with the chordOf a broken spine,Vanished strength.Walking on stepping stones,Concealed in the fractured imageOf a one…
-
Here, to recallThe waters, through the reflectionOf my faceless, unkind self.Counting the days of rain,When a sunshine came throughThe weeping skiesTo raise the sunken seeds. Here, to remissIn desperate recollectionOf all I could not, or did notCare to keep contained. Here, to kissThe fallen dropletsBrought down on her cheeks,Walking through a stare,Her puddlesFrom ivory eyelids,Hell-born…
-
As IStand, without a smileAbove the graveWhere I called my fellowBeing the bird of torture.The death of a love,Of all wasted years I spentSending sighsTo the ocean’s width. While IFade, among the pain,Wallow, among the grain,Wade, through the stain,Swallow, the future with shame,There is tunnel vision,With no vision for the tunnel. Crafting my book,The same…
-
“Writing patterns and schemes in the work, is a direct result of reading them in people.” – Modern Romanticism We can define all types of poets. Though, it can be believed that the universal aspect of a poet, is not by them simply penning the work, though to write about what they have read. Of…
-
Crawling amongTeeming sadness,A forest has bent its limbsTo the shape of your misery.Folding handsAcross your bleeding heart,A bosom as wideAs the ocean,With no smile you show. Why not awake the sun?I can come through,Kneel to you,Arrange your eyes with a gleam,Tend to your fallen heart,Handing smilesTo your stolen happiness,As loveCan be your banquet. Do not,As…
-
Fragile,MournfulOf the snow that takes shapeOf a man’s crumpled hand,With edgesThat carry him down. Weakened,OvertakenOf the breaking mind,Wallowing in sustenanceToo heavy to hold,Though he walks. BleedingSunrise, into the wastesOf burned fields,Sickened moors,Orchards that loose more applesThan ever he did of sin. Will waterQuenched the starved lips,Reminiscent of a kissNever allowed? Will the moonShow its true…
-
Poem #1 “A Collection of Fine Dust” SettleIn the stillness,Oh, memories of an afternoonWith frail longing to danceIn the debris of her absence,Tasted again. Like loose rocksFlown from the distant hurricane,The teeming tornados,With velvet to guide my handsAcross to her frozen waist,Among this, heated haste. Like tossed tearsRunning from the storm in her mind,The twisted…
-
Hold your hoursClose to sunrise,The warmth washes gentlyOn a splendid tomorrow.Deep red to curtains,Flowers grown in your hair,Time forgot usOn the road to being unaware. SmoothnessTo cheeks,TeardropsTo eyes.Let fall your garments,One by one,With the decay of secondsTo the unguarded earth. A kiss,And then we breakInto the final surge.A plunge,And undress ourselvesOf scars,Of useless stains,Of life,Of…
Modern Romanticism 