[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

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

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.

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?

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

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.

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

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

Puppet My tears fall,

like invisible

diamonds.

My heart beats,

like soundless

drums.

Unwanted,

because of the

strings attached.

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.

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

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My little Brown Boxthis little bland brown box
that i hold here
my little bland brown box
contains everything i consider dear

In my little bland brown box,
lies a plain string of beads,
both blue and brown in colour,
it has served no neck's needs.

In my little bland brown box,
lies a necklace of beige hemp,
decked out with cowry shells,
dusty and untidily kempt.

In my little bland brown box,
lies a small silver bottle,
toppled over, spilling essence of gardenia,
smell permeates my nostrils.

In my little bland brown box,
lies a small model train,
when and how it got there
stupefies my brain.

In my little brown box,
lies a plain black pin,
t

Viper of the NightHe slips softly, gliding snake,
so swiftly he slides near,
and causes my heart to wake,
and instills within me fear.
The spirit whispers striking fast,
evil in my ear,
and lust he hath within me cast,
the nights my snake doth leer,
When he comes round the corner of mine street,
after night had viel'd the pole,
ever, in spirit, our eyes meet,
in life we play our role,

and what query hath the snake in me,
he is the snake charmer, yet i charmed thee.

Lady of DestructionShe walks in beauty like the night,
of dreamless rooms and starry skies,
and all that now is clear and bright,
will soon be lost with her demise.

since the hour of her birth,
all that is good and true rests behind her eyes,
every moral fibre of this earth
depends solely on her decietful lies.

The woman with hair as black as night,
perfect, pale skin as clear as day,
sometimes in her eyes i see orbs of light,
this woman transfixes me in every way.

as she moves from her place,
walk with a step like a dancer's, refined,
i want no more than to see her face again,
so that she might someday become mine.

Lady of perfect elegance,
th

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The wonderer

by ~noodles4bowling, Sep 9, 2006, 9:53:09 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

She sits quietly day to day,
wondering, wondering, what to say,
thinking and pondering what comes next,
a life of drama complication, and stress.

She thinks about everything as she sits in her seat,
her head in the clouds,
and the ground underneath her feet,
she keeps wondering, wondering what to ponder,
a little enlightenment makes the heart grow fonder.

She keeps contemplating whether she is black or white,
every choice seems so clear and bright,
yet she keeps thinking, thinking is she a or b,
not many of her questions made sense to me,
whether she is a creature of night or day,
she doesn't realize that most reside,
among the shades of grey.

The wondererby ~noodles4bowling

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

This is a poem about the things that run through my head, that also teaches a moral lesson. When you think that you must make an important decision, try to remeber that everything doesn't have to be back or white, sometimes choices lie in between.

~vachi-bumbernickle Sep 10, 2006

That's good, at least you have a time where you can think

~vachi-bumbernickle Sep 9, 2006

Omk! That's an amazing poem!

I love the lesson that it gives and how well written it is!! Awesome poem!!

~noodles4bowling Sep 10, 2006 Writer

Thank you, i like to tinker in social studies class, hehe

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The wondererby ~noodles4bowling

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