Beauty

Knives

Folder: 
2017

I am trying not to hurt you with these knives I hold.

I have such horrible aim.

 

I am trying not to pull you off the track you laid.

I keep hallucinating the train coming.

 

I am trying not to take over your brain like a tumor.

I keep thinking about you until I’m stuck in your head.

 

I am trying not to cry as hard as I know you need to.

I am a river and I keep needing your skin like a drought.

 

I think the tears of this hunter

are as wet as the tears of the hunted,

and just as bitter.

 

I can sell sweet

but I have never been honey with this fast-paced flood,

words that can cut like tripping,

love that I can laugh with you

but it might just mean the blades are sharpening.

 

When I’m drowning in trusting you I am still holding knives.

This is the only thing that makes me a truth teller.

 

But when I look at you I turn pink with promises,

I only want to stay here four seasons of the year,

maybe more.

 

When I look at you I can only see

the countless hands that must have built this beautiful,

not the hammers I bring with me to cave it in,

please close my eyes for me

so I can know it again,

that my tools are not the kind that build.

 

Mouth open so I can spill my cracks into yours,

maybe here two wrongs make a right,

I hope you love to choke

because when I am living on the way you taste

that is all I can give you.

 

Breathe the scorch and all I can feel

is just how sharp these hands are.

 

I am trying not to hurt you with these knives I hold.

I have such horrible aim.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 4/23/17

View tallsquirrelgirl's Full Portfolio

ripples

Ripples

By jfarrell

 

Like a pond, a lake

(anything with water, even a puddle)

Disturb the surface in any way,

And you see the ripples.

And,

If the light is right,

You’ll see rainbows,

Like a film of oil

Within the surface.

Disturb the pond over there,

And more rainbowed ripples.

 

Everything we do causes a ripple.

You’ve heard that saying,

Kill a butterfly here,

There has apocalyptic storms.

 

I press a switch here,

Say a word,

Blink,

Breath.

 

You press a switch there,

Say a word,

Blink,

Breath.

 

Ripples.

With beautiful rainbows in.

Everything we do makes

Ripples.

 

The most Beautiful Woman


Your Beauty extends the universe to my delight,

It warms  and shines where there is no light,

Your Beauty holds me so bright, I’m ready for any fight,

Your Beauty beholds me with an epic sight.

 

And If one day I lose my sight,

I’ll have Your splendor all for my heart delight.

And You’ll forever be the most beautiful sight.

 
 
 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

for Marianka

David

03/20/2017

View dj1encore's Full Portfolio

Requiescat in pace

Peace

The feeling of rest

After a hard day's work

The weightlessness of relaxation

Finally

 

Serenity

No reason to fear

No longer any worries

My mind is happily blank

White like new-fallen snow

While I sit by the fireplace

On a Christmas morning

 

Calm

For my spirit is calm

My soul no longer pains me

I'll soon fall asleep

To waking dreams

And an eternity

Of sunrises  

Barrels

Folder: 
Love

For at the bottom of my heart;

The dregs of my emotions lie

I'd given all to you

And you drank without satisfaction

I filled your glass over and over again

Yet you could not be content

 

I had nothing left to give

And then, like so many before

I was thrown aside

Cast out like a leper

But the thing about barrels

Is that they can be refilled

And someone wanted me to be filled

They poured their heart and soul into me

They completed me until I overflowed

They granted me a purpose, and a meaning

 

So now as I look upon you

Inebriated in your unfulfilled grief

Wasted in your past iniquity

I pity you

For we cannot be connoisseurs only

But we must be barrels as well

For we cannot drink alone

But must be drunken from again

Absolute Heaven

Folder: 
Simple Thoughts

"Again, 

again, it's been so long, 

yet the feeling still runs 

deep inside. 

 

As though not a second 

separated this and the last, 

my heart racing 

my fingers fluttering. 

 

To spin a tale, 

weave a rhyme, 

picking up a rhythm 

lost to time. 

 

The reason? 

Inconsequential, 

or unimportant, 

rather. 

 

It's been so long, 

it seems, 

but currently at ease 

letting flow out 

 

what some call the soul, 

others call just words, 

or poetry. 

The goal 

 

in the end is to spark a flame, 

light up a mind 

with imagery. 

Personified, 

 

the thousand miles 

traveled, 

just to have another light 

come into my life. 

 

Again, 

the slow boil of the machine 

turning over to toil 

and burn and smoke 

 

and chug along the engine 

of mine, 

the mind 

that writes. 

 

Taking corners too fast, 

imagery still spinning 

left and right, 

picking up speed 

 

and becoming a runaway, 

such mass and inertia 

turning energy 

into nothing less than unstoppable. 

 

To write again, 

to sing, or dance, 

to do what you have done 

because it is who you are, 

 

it's every fiber of your body, 

every sliver of your soul... 

is intoxicating, 

gratifying. 

 

It's heaven, 

absolute heaven. 

 

When you're below the beloved Ocean 

of Life, 

it's waves and currents 

holding you underneath. 

 

That moment you see the surface, 

the ballet above 

of the light dancing 

and beckoning you up for air. 

 

That moment you swim up, 

the sun becoming brighter as you draw closer, 

the cold water becoming clear,

you're so near, 

 

the warmth of the top 

felt through, 

but you're not quite there yet. 

Swim! 

 

Swim harder, 

reach for the surface, 

because that exact moment 

you burst through, 

 

inhaling that open, 

sweet, succulent air 

of inspiration... 

filling lungs, body, 

 

mind and soul... 

it is 

absolute heaven; 

to be inspired again. Gorgeous."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

It is great to write again. To be taken serious again.

Media

Folder: 
Light and Dark

Men of Iron, Men of Smoke

Red hands hidden in their cloak

Helter Skelter in their hearts

Silence people, so they start

End beginnings, death of life

Pleasured pain, calming strife

All their “truth,” is but lies

Hide the demons in their eyes

Propaganda lead the people

Separate the laws and steeple

All who speak against them die

Total darkness soon is nigh

All of those who live are dead

 

In a white world made of red

Ode to Summer's End

Folder: 
Just For Fun

Let me take you

In your mind's true eye

To blue-green pastures

Ocean-like waves of grass

Flowing gently over hill and dale

The sun gently shining

Partially cloaked behind the clouds

The crickets singing to each other

Fall is soon at hand

But for now we enjoy

Those few last days of summer

And as we lay on the warm earth

We'll daydream at how fast

 

The year has gone already

Rhapsody

Folder: 
Just For Fun

Silent time is passing

Pleasant melodies fall upon my ear

Swinging, swooning,

Waltzing melodrama

Imprinting their faerie-like steps

Deep into my mind

I am lost

In a tidal wave of euphony

An effervescent motif

Returns like starlight after sundown

There is no time

For eternity sits in this moment

There is no war

For my heart is stilled

My soul is quiet

 

I am finally at peace