[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.

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.

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

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

Puppet My tears fall,

like invisible

diamonds.

My heart beats,

like soundless

drums.

Unwanted,

because of the

strings attached.

Lost In ConfusionMy mind is spinning without a rest
emotions whirl and twirl around
A merry-go-round gaining speed
Until the world blurrs before my eyes
What's happening? What's going on?

The simplest thought slips away
Right from my mind, fading so fast
Trying to focus, I stare and stare
Until my eyes are heavy and unclear.
I don't understand, what is going on...

Emotions rise and fall again
Within the blink of an eye
I'm crying, laughing, and depressed
A rollercoaster ride that never ends
Am I losing my mind in this ?

I try to close my eyes and rest
But the world spins me around
I feel like I am failing this test
Voices and noisies echo in my min

DangerousMermaids; they seduce you then hold you under
Vampires; will kiss your lifeblood away
Mages, will turn your own mind against you
While trolls will hunt you down if you stay
Run through the woods, don’t stop for nothing
Monsters wait with jaws opened wide
Ignore that pretty elf, who’s probably plotting something dark
For she will torture you once she’s lured you inside
Orcs; will have a craving for your flesh
While dwarves are just prejudiced against your height
Dragons are very skilled when it comes to fire
While faeries will torment you throughout the night
So run little weakling, don’t stop now
The faery realm has go

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

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Mahjongthe Click of mahjong
tiles Carefully arranged
into ordered piles

TiredWhite hairs stood out against the black. Maybe they were new; too many to pluck out. Her face was blank, but a hint of tire was beginning to show in its stillness. Not steady or fixed, but still. As though exerting the effort to stay or change her expression was just too much. As though the energy to feel had gone to other things.
She laughed suddenly. Her face breaking open to let out a burst of triumph. Not amusement. There was no change to her expression, save for a new glint of determination and defiance. It made all the difference.

As yet untitledBroken glass
by the river side,
of cars and trucks
and other things.
Bottles, mirrors
and bits of window pane
mixed in with
sunflowers, daisies
and alcoholic shards.

StalkerI would that I could drink you;
The coolest, sweetest water,
so refreshing that it makes my
mouth seem only further
parched.
I wish that I could watch you;
Day and night, every breath
and step, every expression when
you think that no one is
looking.
I want to listen to you;
Every lie, every bland observation,
your questions, your speeches,
the private thoughts inside your
head.
If only I could see you;
From head to toe, every eye-lash,
every gesture, each color in
your eyes, every scar, every blemish, every
pimple.
I want that I should know you;
Every word, every whisper, every
sigh, each memory burried,
each thought re

LaughLook for the woman who Laughs like a dolphin.
You may find me there;
wrapped in her arms and curled close.
Warm, and soft as she smiles at that long ago camera.
Look for me in Raw Potatoes.
I took a bite out of one once,
tasting the bland, and flavorless;
the bitterness so unexpected.
Look for the flowers of the Spider Plant,
And Huge White Chysanthemums,
White Tiger Lilies,
They're what I like best.
Look for Scar-Webbed hands that have seen better days,
With old gashes that turn purple in the cold.
Look for me in the Washing Machine,
Or the dryer,
'Cause That's what life was like:
Spun 'round and 'Round till your soaked,
th

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Violin

by *talayawhite, May 12, 2008, 2:03:53 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

Let me be your violin.
I surrender myself to your hands.
Stroke me into song and shape my sound with your fingers.
Pour yourself into me so that I may sing your soul.
Let your heart be moved.
Use me until I break and then repair me.
Use me until I break and then repair me.
Vibrate with me.
Tense with our performance.
Be carried away with our voice.
Sing with me.
Let me be your instrument.

Violinby *talayawhite

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

I went to see Beethoven's 9th the other day, and was fascinated by one of the violin players. She reminded me so much of someone (I won't say who).
She was so absorbed in the music, pouring every scrap of her attention and love into the music and into her violin. It was clearly what she loved to do, and it was that art that reminded me of someone.
I am not at all satisfied with this poem. It doesn't capture the depth of connection between player and instrument, or the intensity of love.

~NegativeCreep13 Jun 25, 2008

loved it and what u wrote on author's comments

*talayawhite Jul 18, 2008 Professional Interface Designer

Thank you, I'm glad you liked it.
I wish I could capture the person I was reminded of. Their intensity is just too much for me to put into words. You can try to write an emotion, but it'll never compare to the emotion in reality.

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