boo o 3727
john girl
Posts: 308
bleeding ears
Arcanas of Me
Secrets stand on the leaves
clutched in hands
lay me down in these
bluefields
into the nearest black
ouvertures soul
bear soft encants
of a past
of a warmer nights catch
the couplets are cold
when recalling
lithsome dreamers,
in a rain and tear
I am falling
shivered and
bleeding ear
quiet,
the dark
is thinking through
the fear
that
I am coming
nearer to the scream
of two
faces
in strange wills
it is in the paces
I swing my own gates
hell and heavenly places
me
in pen
and on hinge
so it comes
why do I starve
mine
to deny
asking the romantics
fate
Where I am going
Arcanas of Me
Secrets stand on the leaves
clutched in hands
lay me down in these
bluefields
into the nearest black
ouvertures soul
bear soft encants
of a past
of a warmer nights catch
the couplets are cold
when recalling
lithsome dreamers,
in a rain and tear
I am falling
shivered and
bleeding ear
quiet,
the dark
is thinking through
the fear
that
I am coming
nearer to the scream
of two
faces
in strange wills
it is in the paces
I swing my own gates
hell and heavenly places
me
in pen
and on hinge
so it comes
why do I starve
mine
to deny
asking the romantics
fate
Where I am going
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Comments
I agree, coleen!
Bluefields into the nearest
black ouvertures stole
the softening air
the vast
and a warmer nights catch
the couplets cold
when the snow flies
calling stark and split
the sceptor's chair
descend into me
my Magdalene
epica's scene
the winterings return
revelations loosened
our spoiled needs
a teary scream
for the revolutions
in shares
of peninsulin dreams
of the indigo queen
the angelics repair
and rose in shadows
alledges that
horizons fair
the nocturnes
clock
a falling hour
near the
who am I
when the devil refused
my half dosed eyes
and of course i was misinformed about the location!
I feel like crying sometimes over the idiotic themes
and I thought a new marriage would cure me of poetry
so I get on the trolley,
bullshitting myself
about "be" boys
and illness
that I know the way
the way off
to nowheres
searching for my silent demon
he always finds me
reading the about depressed
"Jesse?" I said,
"do you hear this?"
silence, I thought
(and i can't hear the radio)
but in his words
i almost can
love
to tell you
this isn't poetry
and then it is
a poem
choking me off
the stem of
silence and
haggered hands
tight around the
neck
and
you have to laugh