Writing
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Wrapped around and clean Of the woes to a dismal paradise That left you weeping On a tombstone, tempered by your sorrows, Yet rusted by the leaving heart. I will hold what is left In golden palms, Loving psalms, Attach a rope to your feet, With a cuff to your wrists To keep you captivated.…
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Hold yourself in bliss To where you feel so somber Without a cloud, Without a face upon the moon To stare upon, In deepest memory To the things you have dropped. Not bliss For the aching lips, For the twisting hips Breathe forth a kiss Down upon the weathered flesh I have comes to say,…
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Pace your way Through the tracks of snow, For I am well ahead of you Fallen as the debris. I have peeled my eyes To the sunrise, Though obscured behind the clouds Like your face behind the shroud Where tears make the frozen rain Beneath a sheet of pain. Whatever is ahead In the motions,…
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Wake up, and breathe Vessels for their blood For there is one through your nostril, Five for one hand, Five for one foot, Though you cling to life by a hand against the air, A foot upon a wall, As you breathe in the stench of the rushing iron While the train moves you To…
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Those stones around Us, in the wastes Seem to be alike my arms Pulling you down for the taste. A gravitating grasp, is the entirety of Saturn With scents visible for the air, Inextinguishable for their lasting Through our merged stares, In love, without makeshift care. I find you visible for my form, Your words…
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Godlike, in every essence, For your masterpiece is one. A vision of simple making With details unending. I caught a droplet of your sweat From one highlighted shoulder Deep in the gleam of fading sunlight, In awe of the moon, Soon to come, Soon to show How lakes can form from exercise, upon your toes.…
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How many hours Can float by Without the sight of each delicate stream Of joyful glee? A wilderness in your eyes, I was lost in Upon those hazy summers, Brought down in the currents Of two million tears. How many tears of my own Can float by Without any worth for why I cry In…
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My hands reach down to wash The ivory from my face, The bitterness from my taste, The dirt from my heart, The dust from my soul, Before all else becomes the toll, The reaped reward Of a single penny in a fountain, The single minuscule Worth, of a million more droplets of this bronze, Because…
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“Why should I be a proud writer, when there are those who’d read my writing, recall a painful memory, and begin to weep to it? Why should I be a proud writer, when there are those who’d read my writing, feel rage for what I say, and thus become my enemy? Why should I be…
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Un-adored, as you were, Dressed in solemn midnight Beneath waves that retreat, Though do not leap Towards the next place for us to weep, Towards the spot we’ll love to seep Emotions down into a well Of startled hearts. Has no one questioned Why the moon possesses more faces Than the mere warmth of the…
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Turn back to face The storm that does not leave, For that is where you feel truest Without me. I watch from the clouds To sense darkness in the shroud That encases your temples, That throws over your light, Smothers your sight, In the agonies you face, in those deep dreams, In the findings you…
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As what quakes Is what breaks The ice to the melted heart, Having once quivered to each beat Hollow upon the river, Nurtured to each shiver, Staining the mind With age. My blue is my deep Memory in my eyes, While something seems to speak Deep in the flames, Nested in the grains That wash…
Modern Romanticism 