AlchemyInside these walls, I wait past dark.Alchemy by spoems
The shadows steep and over-brew
long before I move a bone;
I’ll never return to mother’s moon.
Star and night, my bench flakes off
cicada shells and sunflower wilt.
By Venus light, it’s a driftwood throne,
an old carob bullet firing straight for the sun.
The air like ink collects and cools:
it is the black throat where braying forms,
and where shady gardens melt and pool;
absorbing the ghosts of cigarette-waft.
These onyx planets swell and bloom,
and metabolise like sheer witchspells -
I turn these crystals to my core
And try unlearn this spiderweb gloom.
Former days contort through tremulous fisheyes
relapse at the bottom of two emptied mugs.
My disfigured mass quakes in its past,
crumples like a demon husk, roadkilled in a dream.
How many molts with their veiny dead hues
do souls need traverse, an urbanex sulking
through concrete petals, ’till our sin
becomes sarcoline, an imperceptible solute?
Electromagnetic eyes to lick
workshopThe hearth in your denim pocket,workshop by spoems
quietus and earthen floor
windows settle nostalgic dust
and hold outcroppings through their pores:
maps, manuals, flightless single wings
awaiting consequence, a bloodless chore
in the future you have willed the world
for those of us who still remain
workless as the dead.
workingI wakeworking by spoems
on the end.
each blade of body
greys like cedar
from their sleep
with a cruel child’s
yet god, buddha,
or the last aching
offers up a salve
at our Mass of the Unnamed:
in the early grave
The Meaning of Bearing LifeThe Meaning of Bearing Life by spoems
may not last.
is impractical to
continue to evolve and become
internal hardening and
the effects of
fatigue, going further
can be called
Life is the
life of bearing before it fails;
the so-called life
Life should peak,
oscillate, or remain
known or calculable external forces
or inertia. When
ignore deformations in the
and act on a bearing, on a
for only light
it's already happenedit's already happened by spoems
how long will i prop up this poisoned messiah,
squeeze false atmosphere
from these heavy lungs?
i want to get up
drive one thousand miles
to the cauldron's teaming lip
and perform last rites by the roadside.
i see myself
as a diver
hurtling faster than your voice
from this dimension of accidents.
if i am an interruption in the blessedness,
a scarry mandala
in a blunder of motion,
if i am (to be) a curse
that hangs from your sternum spike
then i will grant you
garoumeet, the grimgarou by Deliquescere
gurgle and gush!;
to greet the Moon
inside the Bush . .
Hark, the hallow'd Hounds,
Great an' garish, ghastly
growls . .
Mell! a mare, or
Milk! the ma
disturbingit's disturbing -disturbing by Scarlettletters
the words left
under your chin
or bad paint.
best left unsaid and
in our pockets
blue and forbidden
out of doors
where your smile
and catches my ankles
like wayward children
like bad ink
touching our night
ReplayI cannot forgetReplay by AlecBell
Unable to remember,
I censor my dreams.
Tears leaking, eyes red.
waylaid by phantoms of pain,
buried, yet aching again.
Saint Margaret the BraveWhat can I buildSaint Margaret the Brave by indiana-w
out of words
that will even shadow,
your depth, your breadth,
your great beauty and wonder?
What if I, from afar, view you
like the sun-
a perfect, spotless sphere,
in a radiance that conceals
turmoil, affliction, and aberration?
What if the best way to acknowledge
is to acknowledge imperfection?
Must I question everything?
Must I question these people I have never met,
must I question the nature of God,
must I question the rules and realms that
define how we have come to see our world?
Must I fall prey, yet again, to apparent beauty
that could conceal unwanted qualities...
You see, unnamed object of my affection,
I cannot clearly analyze you under these conditions,
as you should see, since I compare this paradox
to such great and heavenly bodies as the sun.
I cannot know you, or touch you, or seek out
the things that might doom a potential love between us.
That is why I still refrain
from painting your beautiful (non)name across my lips
Dido Before The Pyre.Let there be music for a whileDido Before The Pyre. by somnomollior
rather than silence,
rather than never to have known him,
never to have loved.
Music for a while
is better than a lifetime
endearments, kisses -
even though it ends in parting,
Let me hear that tune
we listened to as one,
that had the trills of birds,
the echoes of bells,
that fell like water on my skin:
a silken shroud.
as I watch him sail away.
Let there be music for a while,
And then I'll sleep.
Seven SummersSweater with sunscreenSeven Summers by brassteeth
everywhere I go,
Burning river rocks
of coarse vaulted heat,
cool water blanket.
Back laying gazes
on a crystal white night,
wish casting whispers.
Brave dragonfly whirls
along Red Baron orbits,
gods double helix.
Lucid blue moon
through a 2 a.m window,
lovemares of her.
Faith hardened pews
of knee worn birchwood,
Drowning silver sun
of seasons last light,
my memories made.
let there be lightlet there be light by OLoboCanta
In this house, the embrace of familial kindness:
old wood, weed, and winter air,
Bodies constantly in love.
The perfume of last summer still lingers in the kitchen (
we danced in the heat with unkillable joy. The music was always loud.
I once watched them eat mushrooms on toast with peanut butter
and then ran off singing into the spangled blackness of the sky
because I, too, was free
DeliriumIt was inflicted, and enduredDelirium by Jade-Pandora
the most chilling way
in exchange for anonymity
arms already lost to me
Out of my depths, I had inhaled
the moment when
the wave washes over me,
At the mercy
in this pregnant darkness,
determined to resist
and unable to
Clawing at the arching sky
an abject prisoner of my gag reflex -
a vertical expression
of a horizontal desire
I wanted to go
to the heart of suffering
to navigate deep
within its undergrowth
The search for clarity takes courage
a bay of exquisite symmetry;
those perfect curves
Dancing among the whitecaps
I had the sensation I was
swimming through moonlight
I didn't just lose my modesty
I lost my heart
The low moon
rode across a cloud
casting a net with
a slow-motion gesture
stretching like a goddess
the color of pale porcelain -
it was love at first sight
Where nothing seemed to exist
I was overcome
by feelings of arrival
when I surfaced -
More than an escape
it was a way of
|my favorite dA poetry|
Little GirlLittle girl,
You've been hurt.
Betrayed by those who should have been the most loyal,
hurt by those who should have loved you,
scarred by most everyone
you ever met.
I know the shadows in your heart,
how they obfuscate every minute
of your life.
Nightmare paths in forests of wakefulness.
Deep in the woods.
One day, you will learn to walk.
One day, you will learn to run.
You will be unable to move,
You're eyes flitting frenetically,
in the headlights of your sudden life.
It will be OK.
Take that step off of that ledge that seems so terribly,
Do the unthinkable,
Take his hands,
I know where you fall,
in the end,
when you resist.
Half your years gone.
Half of your life in Your Hell,
bringing him with you,
pulling on his hand,
nails so deep they draw blood and scar.
You know you don't scar the ones who matter most.
they don't matter any more.
RivalryHello there sir! If I could just show you here,
a painting by none other than myself – glorious!
I have painted for many a rich man like yourself.
Take in my colours, the way the light soars on down
and perfectly lights my subjects face – superb!
I am a perfect candidate for your choosing right here!
Hello good sir, I am but mediocre in this craft
I have little knowledge of drawing the hills, however,
my skills in anatomy and hands are showing through.
Please pick my work, I only strive to improve.
What nonsense this boy speaks! His art is worth nothing.
Compare his forehead to mine, what do you see?
I have lines which show my effort and wisdom, him?
As blank as his mind - you need a real artist
who's art you can hang proudly and not be disgraced!
Look at the canvases alongside and see who is the best!
Excuse me sir, you're not being fair! For you were me once.
My spirit would be lifted, I assure you I am worth-
Come here my good sir, leave this fraud behind.
Name That BabyI'm gonna lay it on the table
Do the tell
Get the spelling right
Got called "depressed"
Took it up to "manic"
Bipolar in the head
And they said --
"Make it longer,
On taking pills,
To flatten my hills
Knock out the frills,
I got double-damned.
'Cause a this shit --
Father dies in a pool
Mother dies too,
In love with a fool
Mother let days pass,
No food or water
How did she last?
I closed her eyes,
They felt alive,
Like little butterflies.
Hector also dies,
Left alone by
The very unwise,
Young white cats
Die like that.
Spat out with
All the cancer-dead
She too went back.
And nothing stopped.
I saw them all
Saw them all day,
Blood and flood
Not from me
Not my feed
Just these -- "things."
Small cold voices
In my ear
None could hear.
Little people sat
And they stood
And they spun,
In colorful fun
They had their run,