Poetry
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We are divided between currentsThat fall from eyes made of glass,And to shield our faces makes us witnessThe shame we decorate ourselves with,As we bleed.We bleed dewdrops over cheeks made of ivory,And kiss love awayAs the emotion it was,Meant to stay. Agony is now our new bliss,Our cheeks, our faces, the silver tears we kiss,Buried…
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How beautifulOne such as me, can describeEach detail, with astonished eyes. Beauty is but a weakness, a place of clayThat requires the water, for sculpture.It is nothing, without the hands atop it,And so, I go to mold. I craft legs to appear as water-bent pillarsTo hold upPoseidon’s very palace, should he have one,Or a cottage,…
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Who bequeathed the roseAbove your brow?Where each petal runs rampant, to fallTo meet the lips that callMy name, through the frosted walls.What love turned itselfUpon an old and delicate leaf? When beauty wakes up, and nestles besideThe stirring loneliness, of a man in a hollow form,And he lays next to a shadow.Merely a quilt that…
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Oh, idleness,Unchanging woman,Who I love.There is, to you, of what I observe,A frame, myself, and you, the painting.You have beauty that thunders a spark across the skies, above.Love cannot any longer, lift it up,All I may do is sculpt it, into a memorable form, of what I knew.I knew, through portraits that still enrage me,That…
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Come for me,If you dare,And step with your formless feetAcross depths, made of flesh,Perfect for your footfalls. Come and tear at me,With your eyes upon my hands,That rent apart this ocean made of rottenness,With anger in my eyes,You’ll fall inward. And I’ll fail,And fall before you,Little angel of my demise,I will submit,To beauty that keeps…
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Pain is there,Beyond the door.I see blood rushing inTo my feet,And I know, very well so,That her defeat is near. Like two seasons faded from their togetherness,I was the winter you did abhor,While you were the summer, where love climbed ashore,To see the rocks as mere pebbles,And the moss that covered them,Only the comfort of…
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Rise up,And take awayThis unholy painFrom the woman I once loved,She needn’t suffer this muchIn this winter of winters. Her face, once an aura of bliss,Her form, once taken by me, beneath sheets of white.And blankets made of the softest velvet,Quilts made of skin. A mattress made of us,And sweat pours over like the rain,…
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Your strange aurasEmit a glow I’ve not seenWith these rotting eyes, nor touchedWith ever-more rotting fingers. What a horror, in meager contours,Drawn around your idle form.An outline that masks your fragilityWhenever you’ll wake up. I see,With eyes revealed for a grave,The listless shape of your countenanceExpressing the bliss that comes with the feeling of death.For…
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I am watchful, upon your barren formThat no alonger moves with each subtle sigh.Your arms will no longer sway when you decide to dance,Your hips, the same.And for each ruby lip that I had always aimed to kiss,There is only Hell for the life I dearly miss. Hold your head in the snowDear beauty.You once…
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Scarlet lipsAre to sing the tune of many yearsIn that same isolation,For it is the one that has kept you bleeding.Like a face that cannot smile,Because, its stone surface is un-moving.Like your face that does not smile,Because, you’ll only grip the stones, held at your throat. Your isolation,Your place among the ocean,With a face that…
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Make the rain wash meFrom this idle pain.For she has gone down, like a starWhose light could not hold itselfUp, among the dark. She shivered, before she expiredIn my hands, in the night.I fell two drops from swollen eyesThose, that have cried many nightsInto the ground, into the soil, and into the Hell I call…
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Your eyes carry the shiverThat I have welcomed with the warmth.The heat, from your conceit,The bleak tresses that rain, to your shoulders and neck,The love that opens itself wide, upon a bed made of stone,And I am natural to admit,That I could not commit. Could not commit,To the Devil between your legs.I was within it,…
Modern Romanticism 