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The Man and the MoonHer mouth corners hung themselves
and I began to wonder if that was the death of them.
A simple, quiet death;
without broken fingernails lining the walls
with the stripes of a despairing end.
I began to ache with the questioning in my heart
with the echoes reverberating in my capillaries
of her face scorching sunshine in her smile
right before it crumpled
and nothing was left but a frowning moon
set firm in its resignation to an upcoming eclipse.
the scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shoulders
are braille to me, so that i
can read your skin, so that i
can know you better.

i like to listen to your heartbeat
and how it resounds differently
from mine, just so beautifully
like two songs played in tandem
to harmonise in rounds;

i like to hold your hands
and rub your back
so that maybe my love
can find its way through your pores
and seep into your blood
(never can i find the right words
to tell you just the way you feel to me)

and to think that and how i nearly missed you
makes me miss you more
every minute and mile we spend
elsewhere.
i can't sleep with another body
in my bed,
but sleeping without you
leav
He doesn't write poetry anymore.He doesn’t write poetry anymore,
even if he still collects it, reads it, saves it, treasures
faded verses from his wife the way connoisseurs
savor vinyl over metallic rainbows on disc.
I don’t mind not knowing, but I can’t stand not asking.

The record needle hits the groove wrong;
he stumbles over words that aren’t there,
rummaging for an answer he doesn’t really have.
He doesn’t write poetry anymore
and his confusion is strangely endearing.

But there’s a lyricism to his words that I love,
poetic lines inserted between the daily grind
of character names and who said what;
voiceless boys in white a
Overgrown ColorsRed like blood on a rose.
White like bone and stars.
Black like reclusiveness.
Green like dead air.
Orange like the savage instinct.
Purity like a god's heart.
Red like thawing hatred.
White like a frozen, severe cry.
Black like the night's deprived shadows.
Green like the wind in the grass.
Orange like the light in the shadows.
Purity like the sun rising.
So discharging through the moon in a wheeze is like luminous white, dispersed red.
PocketLeftover religion in the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
A key that unlocks nothing
A penny, a scrap of paper
With half of your name
Written in black ink

A song that is usually in my head
In the shriveled carcass
Of a long-dead dream
In the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
With the lint
with thanks to frosttwo roads diverged in a soulless dawn
and you pull over,
idling on the shoulder of route 50.
it's a polaroid morning and
the world is as grainy
and sleep-heavy
as your eyes,
and one million miles
is not far enough.
it plays back, filmstrip,
blurred along the length of
optic nerves,
and here you are:
facing a choice between
on
and
out.
and this?
this loosejointed, hollowbodied
weightless ache--
this is what
gone
feels like.
Condemnedbeneath the beaten earth they lay,
their dreams condemned to ashes,
and our restless bodies stretch,
for forgiveness, for direction –

survivors of the abyss,
amidst wide-eye, silent soldiers –
so many dead, so many maimed,

how many graves are we standing on, today?
SisterSister

A sister is like a soul mate;
Someone who is always there
to guide me through fate.

A sister is,
a part of childhood that I cannot erase;
A sister like you,
is one that I would never replace
because you always know how to
put a smile on my face.

I know I can depend on you
to always be there for me;
This is one hundred percent guaranteed!

I've had great memories with you
in the past;
and I hope there are many more
to come,
in the future.
Life, Death And A Pork Chop SandwichAll tangled up, hard to breathe
This steel cloud day that swirls
With heat and pounding hammers
I shake in my boots and cough up
Blood, rust and damaged flesh
Waiting for the second coming
Maybe next time around there'll be
Some chance for more than this

A twisted barbed wire halo
Wrapped tight around my skull
Blinding white light aura
Swarming with flies I'm flying
To pieces, thousands of shards
Cannot be brought back together
But I will remember the summer
Of my first Chevrolet in each bit

Gleaming bits of glass in the desert
Each reflecting a different moment
Still, now, enduring until the waves
Of a new ocean sweep them away
No pain
Pretty little things called words and dustif you weren't a hypocrite,
you'd be wrapped in the sweetest
perfumes
(learning
how to engulf the ocean
with your lungs
and think of how to cup it
in your hands
despite
your broken prayers and
still be beautiful)

dance with the gypsies
'till noon
(a quake in
your hips like the thrust
of continents
and the faultlines
emanating from
your spine,
but still
so, so graceful)

sing with the nymphs
in tune
(your voice,
it's growing old,
raspy even.
your throat's burning dry
like a monsoon
faltering in a desert,

and tones
still octaves
powerful)

be nestled in a king's arms
soon  
(oh, you precious
little thing.
how
SurelyIt was raining
when we kissed for the first time,
for the last time.

Thin rivulets
sunk into the shrunken space
between our bodies
and divided us
like nothing could before,
like everything will
from now
until that never again
when we will
see each other once more,
no more.

Your eyes were
that bewitching shade
of dull brown blue
with all of the light darkness
whirling
in a placid pond
around a pupil
overflowing with vacancy,
and me
and my frowning smile.

The winter heat
fell like a rising tide
and,
for our every breath
was another death
so black and full of life --
embracing our boiled ice skin
as we drew apart,
came together and broke free
Riddle  My tears fall,

      like invisible

               diamonds.

 My heart beats,

      like soundless

               drums.

 Unwanted,

       because of the

             strings attached.

What am I?
A Night By the FireNo light,
The light sired by the night
All above whilst the day's delights
Now disappears from mortal sight.

Faded away is the sun's power,
Taking the stage now is night's sallow flower;
Now mortals may behold the stars and falling shower.

Set in a pit Nature's skyscraper ablaze
And revel in the emanating heat as you gaze,
Looking down on occasion when you hear a crack from the fire
And witness "fireflies" flying away from mother's blaze;
Dying shortly after but not lacking burning beauty do they desire!

I look out towards the teasing shore
And meditate as we sit upon her door,
Thinking on what my future has in store;
Who I am now and even
Why meI wanted sleep very badly
I tried my hardest to rest
I closed my eyes and laid there
But sleep didn’t come easy
I would doze off
And wake back up
Again
Why me? When I know I have to be up at 3 AM.
Seaside HolidayI am content
to stay
a caterpillar

Who says
you have
to change?

What's so great
about being
a butterfly?
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More from ~heartxofxchains

Viola Strings and Vital ThingsMaybe I love you
Or
Maybe I never knew how

But if you leave me I'll evaporate in the clouds

Maybe you need me
Or
Maybe I wish selfishly

Maybe the stars are just waiting for us to believe

That love is just a trampoline
With loosened bolts and rusted springs
And in the end the vital things
Are nothing but viola strings

Maybe I know you
Or
Maybe I don't have a clue

But when the time comes, can't I pretend that I knew?

Maybe we grew up
Or
Maybe we're still innocent

Maybe this whole thing was one childish accident

Where love was just a trampoline
With loosened bolts and rusted springs
And in the end the vital things
Were n
That Walking SuperstitionShe's got 13 superstitions tattooed on her back

With 2.5 inch fingernails bleached out like all her cats

The ladder escalating up is carefully laid down

The fillings all grind in the cracks and smear grey on the ground

She's walking like the stilted legs and blooming out in red

She's pinching down her airways so she won't breathe in the dead

Her lipstick shade is paranoia, polish is light blue

Her fears are kept on at all times, her sweat is her perfume

She keeps six lenses on her eyes when things aren't what they seem

And lives up, soaks in all the hype on Friday the thirteenth
Five Ways to Lose Your LoverWarm heart
Cold days
Struggling
To stay awake
Just to catch
Your face

Small touch
Long glance
Trying
For romance
Just to hold
My stance

Cheap life
Rock star
Crying
Inside the bar
Just to know
You are...

Mundane
Big sham
Lying
For the grams
Just to find
I am...

Waiting for you to come back home
I'm tired and so alone
But, baby
She needs you
Well, maybe, I do, too
So I'll keep trying and trying and trying

And we're both just a little blind
We crumpled us and left it behind
Oh, it's too dark, dark, dark inside
We only glow when we're side by side

Side by side.
That Heart of MineWell, I guess love never loved me
Street lights never let me shine
Mirrors looked right through me
And saw that heart of mine

The sharp, earthly rotation
Nearly knocks me down
But it's your nine-cent smile
That keeps me floating around

I truly never believed in
Love right at first sight
But I still believe that, you know,
Someday I might

I roll with the four seasons
I'm hot then I'm cold through the year
I got plenty of reasons
To scoot closer to you, dear

I'm afraid to be wanted
But I'm scared to be alone
I've got plenty of houses
I've never had a home

Well, I guess it's complicated
Oh well, my bedtime's nine
Perhaps, i
String Me Along Like a Fish Out of WaterI reached up to the sun
To bring back all the ones
I felt like I had missed too long too soon

This phase is growing old
I've never felt so cold
But when I missed I nearly scraped the moon

Open your eyes
And take off your disguise
When the day turns into dawn
I'll be there by your side

So drop the line
I'll pick it up in time
When the smile turns into sighs
I'll be there...
If you be mine
The Art of FallingShe's just a girl with eggshells for feet
And he's just a boy who became bittersweet
Why'd fate decide
That they should collide
If they both never dreamt they would meet?

She's just a circus without a performance
And he's just a jet-lagging plane at first glance
Both short of existence
And lacking in substance
Do you think they saw this as a chance?

She's just a little too under the ground
And he's just a microphone that lost its sound
Too scared to break free
Too wearied to flee
She never thought she would be found

She's just a tiny bit nervous today
He's just a vision that had looked her way
And then they had met
And they'

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Minds, Love, and Other Eighth World Wonders

:iconheartxofxchains:

Met an eastern traveler by the name of Fantasy
Thought I finally knew Love’s maiden name
She twirled me through September
Made a pit stop in July
Hypnotized me with calypsos of suburban life

We marched on crumbling leaves
And swam through lakes of mercury
Her green eyes haunting me every time

The dragons we colored and the lambs we danced on
The castles we burned downed, the pills that turned us blue
It was her, it was me, and it was enchanting

...

She wore her galaxy frills
I wore my pastel shoes
On the edge of thirteen (going on fourteen)

In the middle of an orchestral hall she trapped my hand in hers
With seashells dangling from her veins
Said “listen close, I have something to tell you”
I nodded once, she nodded back
Drew her hands to her heart
Took me by the head, took me by surprise
When she faded away

And the violin strings melted to black
And the silver sounds slowed down

...

Of coincidence and revelations
I thought I’d be blind forever until I heard an ocean laugh
“She’s not gone, she’s just not here
You’re not alone, just lonely”

And so I searched for that little piece of Fantasy
Stomping on dead leaves and swimming through ponds
Coloring faces and counting the lambs

...

And the years drew me old
So I stopped looking
And eventually, Fantasy had lost me as well
:iconheartxofxchains:
for poetry-book's 'Scratch That' poetry competition
round 5
theme: fantasy
type: ballad

the poem's about that vivid imagination/fantasy that we all used to have
love 0 0 joy 1 1 wow 0 0 mad 0 0 sad 0 0 fear 0 0 neutral 0 0
:iconkyvex:
Mood: Excited ~KYVEX Jan 30, 2013  Student General Artist
Dang it read it once can't get it out of my head. It becomes like a chant chanting rap raptap taping away in the corner's of my mind.... Sorry but just like music and book very few of the poem's i read mean anything or can affect me in any way but this one is one of the exception.
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