| “I know you have to go, ‘cause it’s the start of snow.” Days would pass, another week months would leave a sad streak of long excruciating grief the dying of the autumn leaf. Coldness would fill the spaces of my warm beloved west it’s time to thicken my dress for draftiness fills my breast. The town covered with white powder where once we were sweet lovers but now at this precise hour we are but rotten flowers. I’m lying here all alone trying to vanquish the cold by putting all these behind daisies would be fully grown my faith in you I should hold forever won’t be all this time. ©BOGART™ * Check out my journal page for more poems from me :) (poems include: TSUNAMI, MOUTHFUL and SINCE THE START) Comment your thoughts :D - Mood:happy
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| I often look into the mirror, waiting for it to speak,
to tell me 'The Answer' and it never does.
My image just stares back and then I want to break
that mirror to smithereens... all of that because,
I cannot find my self, my truth, or my sanity,
I'm searching for the calm within; true calm, no din.
When searching the mirror, it appears as blatant vanity,
But, I'm really looking deeper than just my skin.
I see the background switch and change;
I hear the sounds, see the seasons-go-round,
I'm dizzied, flushed, frazzled, estranged,
laughing, crying,
aloof and dying,
and then no sound... no worries
A mirror tells no lies
it only tells a tale
of long ago and now, (you know?)
but never
tomorrow's story.
(C) eroticmiranda | |
|
| This is my first post to a community, and I'm still fairly new to LiveJournal. So please excuse me if I do anything wrong.
I wrote this while listening to a violin piece by Sarah Chang, called Vitali Chaconne.
Here is the link - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AloBa9SPM 7U VITALI CHACONNE A burst, unequaled energy rising above the atmosphere and landing low on polished pebbles An uprising, a taunting crescendo pulling on tides that long ago were dammed sways and tugging, the barrier has broken over flowing. Filling spaces of the being and the unasked Comprehension, a knowing that fills the air It quickens, that pulse that shall ensure breath Creating something unrecognizable to the civilized mind Rewinding to a primal states of basic instinct Pathos and uncertainty and beauty It strains against something that cannot be reached Harsh and soft, an intertwining that causes brows to furrow in concentration A piping bird sings off in the distance of a wavering moon a woman creates a rhythm that makes confusion and sense A violin manipulated to evoke what we once thought no real So is the result of Vitali Chaconne.
- Leeza Dennis - Mood:blank
 - Music:Sarah Chang
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|
| peel back the onion
the unimaginable terror
beneath our second skins
tempered by friction
angelic phalanx
we are all sinners
sitting in darkness
to avoid our own reflections
underneath the soil
tunnels the serpent
beneath the veil of night
deconstructing all
one thousand layers
of shame on the floor
and for all my tears
i still have not found my core | |
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| [[I wrote this while watching the movie "Center Stage" this movie inspired all of these words, and some of it has to do with conforming, yeah I know I'm kinda like a hippy lmao!! Well, Listening to The Beatles isn't making it any better lmao again]]!
The Dancer
Controlled swan dance moves
A doll face
And tears smudging the blush
Feet throbbing
People in wonder
Everyone's a critic
Comes, the day
The audition
When all eyes are on the dancers
Who will love them?
Pin point just one who's "perfect"
The ballet slippers on the foot of the tup,
Filled with ice,
Are bleeding
Hard work
She is a dancer
A prima ballerina
Her pirouettes define her
She needs to get in
Who will love her beautiful dancing?
Who will appreciate her blossoming silhouette?
Someone will
And that someone will save her
By Wilmary
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|
| Soft and majestic,
they float to the
ground. They're
white, and they sparkle;
ice gives off a new
type of light.
They drift in the wind-
are part of it-
before they hit the
ground. They
will melt, go to
the sky,
freeze, and float
to the ground...
once again.
As they drift in the
wind-
Tell me...
How long until
hypothermia sets in? | |
|
| Brother Moon
The crescent moon sometimes feels neglected:
cut into unfulfillment by an injustice of circumstance,
resenting that this incompletion is romantic characteristic;
thinking about how even at it's best half of it as yang,
(and yes it supposes the dot of white is excitement of mystery,
but that seems so drudgingly overdone);
viewing the earth as something in the way--
in its most optimistic reason concluding
"All things that give observation and purpose to an entity
will inevitably block its light." | |
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| I Did Not Change Him I did not change him I did not change him I didn’t tell him to smart mouth you I did not tell him to use sarcasm As a power against you I did not change him I only helped him bring out His insides I did not change him I did not tell him to smart mouth you And I did not tell him to use sarcasm As power over you I did not change him I did not change him I didn’t tell him to smart mouth you I did not tell him to use sarcasm As a power against you I did not change him What? Are you mad that he’s different? What? Are you mad it wasn’t with you? What? What? What? Are you angry that he opened up with me… And not you? I did not change him I did not change him I didn’t tell him to smart mouth you I did not tell him to use sarcasm As a power against you I did not change him He wouldn’t let you near him before He wouldn’t even let you talk to him Wouldn’t let you bring him to conversations And now you hate it when he talks There is no winning here By Wilmary | |
|
| In a fit of inspiration I wrote these pretty quickly. I would love if some of you amazingly talented people would help me fill in the gaps.
The first poem is about childhood friends reuniting in adulthood. They are "catching up" and the speaker uses the irony of the phrase to detail her experience in the friendship as constantly trying to catch up to her friend. I'm sure it could be longer.
Catching up
Go on ahead.
I’ll meet you,
In a few.
Now, where’s my shoe…
*
Are the laces still tangled up
In the bicycle chain?
Am I wrapped around wheel?
Am I trailing behind?
Was I pushed and rushed to
Catch up?
Was I too slow for you?
I’m coming,
I’m coming,
I’m coming!
*
…I’ll be right there.
*
Growing up on the wall.
Not quite flowering, yet.
It took three extra years
For my body to catch up to yours
Which one of us was the stocky bean
Pod-
With no bumps in sneakers?
*
Here we are.
Right on time.
We are paler people-
Full of color
Full of nostalgia.
We nurse our beer.
We move slow.
We are linked together.
We share pain now.
No need to trip over it.
No need to catch up.
The ties are pulled together.
This one is something I wrote after finding out that a boy I grew up with who was kind of a ladies man is having a baby. I think I like the wording here, but I really want it to be smart and not whiny and bitter or come across as some old lady's curse hah. Any advice?
I hope you have a little girl
Bundled in pink
Pure
And perfect
Unassuming
And darling.
There will come a day,
My oldest friend,
That a young man
With brown eyes will
Catch her fancy
And she will be riveted
In the heart
Boomboomboomboomboom.
And that young boy will
Woo her,
And vanish.
Leaving you to bundle up
And carry off
Her little blue broken pieces
Pure
And perfect
Unassuming
And weeping.
© amt | |
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|
Short skirt
with dark tights
plastic daggers
hide bitten nails
tempting siren
lures them in
ugly black dot
birthmark near her lip
slanted cat eyes
secret sharp teeth
biting her tongue
hummingbird tattoo
coarse hands on her back
dance on dirty stages
hopeless dreams
showing skin
too much leg
a middle finger
and a wicked grin
pawned necklace
old perfume
glares as cold as ice
and an occasional smile
-Shelby - Location:Dullsville
- Mood:sleepy
 - Music:She Wolf by Shakira
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|
| It's through your unexplored spectrum
that the universe seems more interesting.
Without your consoling consolidation of energy
the cosmos seem only cold dust.
Within your organic chemistry
I predate the birth of stars. | |
|
| Drunk, they gather, full of anticipation, expectations and full of wonder
Of a new year yet unknown and could this be what auld Burns meant?
But as the bells chime out twelve times, I stand and watch, and ponder
Of what cheer and hope there is to be found in a future already spent?
© Donna Roberts | |
|
| We stared deep into each others eyes for what seemed like an eternity.
I took in every freckle in your hazel eyes,
every inconsistency.
I took in the various shades, the browns and greens;
watched as your pupils dilated accordingly when focusing on my eyelashes.
I wanted you.
I wanted your sweat mixing with mine, I wanted our breaths in unison.
I wanted to hear you panting and moaning, feel your heat mingle with mine.
But you’re not mine.
And you never will be again.
You wanted me just as much.
I could see it in your eyes,
in the way your lips parted.
You reached to touch me,
but stopped just short of my thigh.
We both knew you couldn’t, I’m not yours.
We loved each other once.
We still do, let’s not kid ourselves.
But we ruined everything.
We’ve broken each others hearts too many times;
there’s no hope for us ever again.
I kissed you anyway. | |
|
| ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif) i_hope_thatFor many of us, the holidays can be kind of rough. If you're searching for a network of understanding friends, this ultra-nurturing community encourages you to express your heartfelt wishes and offer other members encouragement and acceptance. Not for the terminally snarky or emotionally-challenged, this is a good-spirited place to lend comfort and support. | |
|
| diygiftsFeeling crafty? If you've got a few last folks on your holiday gift list, this is a great place to seed your creativity and generosity. You'll also discover wonderful DIY tips to decorate your home and entertain guests. Offering a no-frills-no-skills attitude that welcomes the cash-challenged and arts-phobic, you're sure to get ideas and make friends in the process. | |
|
| cooking_clubA fun and friendly community dedicated to those who love to cook, whether you're a meat-and-potatoes type, an aspiring gourmand, and/or a vegan. In search of a brilliant dish to use up those weekly leftovers? Post your ingredients and you'll be whipping up a feast by dinner. You can also share favorite recipes. For Type A chefs, you can spice up your culinary repertoire with exciting cooking challenges. | |
|
| out there
where the seasons never change
and the horizon is the same
the stars own all the fame
we are all without blame
with souls they cannot tame
fluttering as a flame
and we all have one name
between us there is no shame
though tomorrow never came
we all win this cosmic game | |
|
| am i wrong to love
my heart is in pain
i forgave everything he did all above
but my heart is still in pain
am i losing the mind
or am i falling to he pain of my heart
i am not blind
i swear to the truth of my heart
i love him and i need him
i need the voie of him
bounding me with his gentle ways
and not to the ignorant man sways
bless me with a knight's love
with purity and sincerity
not the lust but love
and his believed prosperity | |
|
| These wishes are countless
Fragile and meaningless
Like a house of cards
They fumble, they're worthless
In the end
What is left?
What good can this do?
What can be learned
From the pain we go through?
These fists are still bruised
From the walls my hands kissed
And these knees are still bruised
From the steps my feet missed
My heart is a cave,
With each day it grows deeper
This doll lays here broken,
So why would you keep her?
Don't make her believe
That this space on the shelf
Was meant just for her
When the hands have been dealt
And what does she have?
Not even two of a kind
No flushes,
No straights,
She may as well be blind
'Cause these numbers won't change,
There's nothing left to arrange.
That house of cards you cannot live in,
You must play with what you're given. | |
|
| Becka
Dreaming that it could be, Becomming someone i could never be, Hoping she will one day see, The way that i look at her, The same way i wished she looked at me, Squirming happily with laughter and glee, I envy the way that she sees, All the good things in life, All the while, patiently picking laughter, From a Lemon Tree; - Mood:drunk
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|
Timing
When we first met,
I looked away,
And back again;
Since that moment,
I haven't been able to,
Take my eyes off of
You--
Reminding me that,
Dreams do come,
True--
Just at the wrong time,
To Irony,
I shall pay,
My
Due-- - Mood:Drinking
- Music:Dream Theater - The Spirit Carries On
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|
Live, Love, Laugh
We were sitting there,
In the Pub,
Near the end-
Try as we might,
We could not recall,
That song's name-
Memories that swirl,
Fading and twisting,
Remembrance,
Reminiscing,
Remembering that instance--
- Mood:drunk
- Music:Dream Theater - Hollow Years
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|
| note: lines in italics are taken from the movie Stealing Beauty, a great Bertolucci flic
The dye is cast, the dice are rolled
I’m still falling like autumn
You're still as alive as spring
I feel like shit, you look like gold
We never did see the world as infinitely infinity
I never saw the truth as it was
We always were too compelled by the beauty
Of our own fucking hypocrisy
You don’t look at me today,
Your heart is heavy and so is mine
Maybe we’ll cross paths again on the way
Up the path where only the loneliest stars shine - Mood:anxious
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| i watch my instant oatmeal expand in the microwave
until i can't see thewater anymore
and then i get a throbbing headache | |
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