[x]

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.

Dandelion QueenI dream of the ocean;
that paper-thin line where
the current swallows the stars
and the water churns violet

(you tell me to be
quiet,

dandelion queen, we've
heard all these words before)

tonight
I will sleep heavy
and wake a few hours before dawn,
only to forget my name

my wave-weathered heart will cry,
I will cry (my biggest fear
is drowning in too many
of my own weighted words

you tell me to be
quiet
so I can hear the world breathe)

I want to go home

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?

Pull Her Hair/Stare At The StarsThe ghosts have crashed their ship
on the other side of town,
you can see it from the second floor
all the way over here.
You can see the white clouds
rising from the wreck
and a nova of heat, a big bright
nova of warmth pulling the moths and wolves
out from the woods (with their noses up and searching).
You can smell the yearning like bees
leaving the hive, like the grizzly brown bears
on the jagged white mountains (concrete and imposing).
They call it fear,
but I see these ghosts
scrambling up into the sky
and I like to think it's
something different entirely.

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

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

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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Forgetting to RememberI'm sorry if I forget your name.

My mind is such a flux,
I can't quite remember the things I should.

I may not remember something you have said,
But you must be patient,
My brain is so cracked and broken.

Tell me one more time,
What does this word mean?

Such a ditzy head I have atop my shoulders.

I constantly forget what I am doing,
Or what I am saying.

I forget that I have written something down,
So doing that doesn't help.

I may just blank you,
But don't think I'm ignorant,
I just couldn't quite comprehend.

My mind is discombobulated so easily.

I wish it weren't so,
But this is the way it must be.

So I'm sorry but…

Empire of DirtLook at what I have become.

I have lost my empire,
My home,
My safety.

I am left with only paranoia,
Doubt,
And,
The thing that really matters,
My imagination.

If one does not have imagination,
Could one be classed as human?

It runs through us all,
Even just the smallest glimmer of it.

My crown was stolen,
My mind destroyed,
My heart in tatters,
But still functioning.

I must get my empire back,
Even though it is made only of dirt.

So sleep now my enemy,
Because soon,
Soon I shall have my empire back!

So Little WordsSo much to say
So little words.

So many times I want to speak,
I want to explain,
But I can't.

I am stuck,
Stuck on my own tongue.

Teach me the words,
Do they even exist?

How do I explain how I feel?
There aren't nearly enough words in any language.

Look into my eyes,
Can you tell how I feel?

Read my body language.
How about now?

All of that only scratches the surface.

I realise now.

That I can explain…

Nothing.

True LifeA small flower among the debris
Is the only thing left alive.

The land ravaged by war.
But life always continues.

The flower glimmers in the moonlight,
Against the black and white backdrop of the ground.
Its sapphire blue petals radiating a bright light.

Beauty amongst devastation.

Order in a field of chaos.

A single gem in a pile of coal.

You who hath set eyes upon this flower,
Shall forever know the beauty of this world.

Turn not away from the radiance of it,
But embrace its strength.

All's Fair in Love and WarLying through your teeth to yourself,
Trying to convince your mind that it's right.

"But I did it for the better."
Is your argument.

But you know it's not true,
You continue to lie,
Never stopping,
Always hesitating.

"I needed to lie,
It's the only way they would listen,
The only way I could be accepted."

Don't try to fool yourself,
You lied because you could,
Simple as that.

We all do it.

We don't need a reason at the time,
But we regret it afterwards,
And try to make up a futile excuse.

You can lie to others,
But you can never lie to yourself.

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Today the World Ends

by ~PhoenFox, Dec 20, 2012, 3:39:58 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

Today the world ends,
It shall fade away,
Everything we have accomplished.

Imagine that,
Just for a minute,
Picture it in your mind.

Where would you be?

What would you do?

Only a small amount of time left.

Use it wisely.

I know where I would want to be.

As you watch the clock ticking,
A second,
A minute,
An hour…

The world shall soon be gone,
Or maybe it won't,
Maybe it'll all be fine.

Perhaps you do what you wanted,
And then the world doesn't end,
What then?

Just continue as if nothing ever happened?

Today the world ends,
Fades away,
But it's just another tiny dot in the sky right?
Insignificant?
Like they always say.

So say your goodbyes,
If you really think it'll happen.

Today the World Endsby ~PhoenFox

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

Where would you want to be?

I don't believe the world will end tomorrow to be perfectly honest, and that's from my spiritual and scientific point of view. However it is entirely possible.

One other question. If the world is ending, are you scared?

~arachelle905 Dec 21, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

I'm still of the opinion that the 21st is just the day the Mayans got sick of counting and stopped calculating time. I mean... They had to stop somewhere, right?

~PhoenFox Dec 21, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

They found it just meant the end of an era because the 21st of December is the day of the winter solstice. (Which I couldn't see today because of the stupid clouds!)

~arachelle905 Dec 21, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

We got our first serious snowstorm today. I woke up this morning to a veritable blizzard.

~PhoenFox Dec 21, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I WANT A BLIZZARD! STUPID BORING MANCHESTER! And the world didn't end either!

~arachelle905 Dec 21, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Eh. Most of the people who had to work today in the blizzard WEREN'T happy with the snow. ...And did you really expect the world to end? I didn't!

~PhoenFox Dec 21, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Yeah but I wish we had some snow.

Course not! Didn't you read the description of this poem?

~arachelle905 Dec 22, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Lol, yeah, I read it. I was being sarcastic, sorry!

~PhoenFox Dec 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Oh...Sarcasm doesn't work very well in writing haha.

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