[x]

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

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

Onceyour beauty lies restless behind those
hills, where you fought valiantly. and
the man you once were was brave and kind,
but now you are possessed by a passenger
of darkness, whispering words of your
loneliness.

the man you once were is forgotten, and
the man you are today, is only a ghost, a
shadow, of what you were before.

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

HorsepowerHorsepower

There’s a knife turnin in my soft parts
And heat burnin my mind on hard starts
The motors runnin but I lost the wheel
Just want it to be numb don’t wanna feel
Take two steps back and put it in park
Before I leave scarred up black marks
I need a u-turn on this highway
But can’t go back on the by-way
So look ahead, the pavement goes on
Break the rear-view mirror it’s gone
Contemplate
Reiterate
Put it in drive
And say goodbye
Let’s see how fast this bitch can fly

-Cygam7

nightmarethe foxes are at your bedside and singing--
feversongs,
songs of boiling thoughts
and broken muscles.
their lullabyes.
they sneak so quiet, and
somehow,
you can't quite
dream
anymore.

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.

FossilizedLiving proof of fossils alive,
and no horseshoe-crab am I.

Nor, inhabitable harsh compression of plates,
residing under humid marsh-scapes.

I mold into the walls, as chalky old coal.
But I am no mineral, no era.
I am not, Mesozoic.

Through the ages
Iron
Bronze
silver, gold and heroic.

I remain a still-life; and no Iduna's apples would retain my youth
No magic fountains, or time devices, or wrist watches.
I am the machine of time.
The watcher, omnipotent, the wise.

But

no God am I

Somewhere, sweet tangy sap trolleys down cracked bark.
Somewhere, celestial bodies erupt unseen.
Somewhere, a abrupt breeze blows overturned bi-cycle tire

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Misery Through MysteryThe dampened efforts of the low-down,
Kept dejected in the dirt,
By the harsh actions of the higher-up.

A ceaseless man-made tension,
Fashioned through the advantaged,
And fueled by some judgement.

Reckoning that as soured,
The populace is spared,
From the austere and bleak.

A variant of servitude,
To be at their every whim,
Sacrificed to be worked like sheep.

Hordes of the shambling,
Masses of a dying breed,
Expended from the gloom.

The AwakeningStirred from the comfort,
Stuporous and unaware,
Crept from the crypt,
Like one of the walking dead.

Alert of a presence,
Both malicious and benevolent,
Dangling up above.

Crying out in pain,
Your adnexa pulsating,
The light overwhelming,
A million miles from home.

This manifestation descends,
Righteous and depressing,
The mirror-image of downfall.

ForsakenA fire in your breast,
That drove you from by the chest,
It brought you to this stage,
Sending you into that rage,
That marred the simplicity.

Discourged yet provoked,
A tormenting little joke,
Untold misery born of a stain,
That afflicted unto them a pain,
Dull as night, yet bright as day.

Clear as the thick, hard blight,
Wrought by an uncontrolled slight.

ConclusionYou draw the final straw,
Enlcosed your eventual fate,
In sufferance and in hate.

The curtains close on your performance,
One last goodbye and farewell,
Before lost to time.

No encore for you,
Abandoned with no name,
Left to you and you alone.

The quiet of vagrancy,
Anathema to the performer,
Like a poison in your veins.

Made a menace,
Through the heinous,
Pushed to the one side.

Your thorough finale.

RequiescatA shallow grave for the broken,
Failed hopes and forlorn thoughts,
Peeled away at the seams,
Forced down under prematurely.

Buried in this makeshift tomb,
Spoiled and heedless to the swoon,
Of sorrowfull desires,
And the moaning of lethargy.

Once these could have been fruitful,
Prolific realities for you and me,
But the rigours of a harsh reality,
Ground them down and bury them at sea.

The AnarchistFlames flaring upon the ground,
Blazing in houses, fire abound,
Destruction left in the wake,
Of those fools who give in and take.

It is careless madness,
Disorder in the culture bringing sadness,
Trying to be free of the restraint,
Forced influence upon our traits.

This disarray, this turmoil,
Is hurting the strands of betrayal,
For each and every will take their stand,
Against politics and raise their hand!

Defiance! Roaring hatred,
Bringing unruliness unaided,
Causing napalm death, hoodlum rampage and gang-war strife,
Wiping over Mankind like some raging blight!

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Labyrinth

by ~GrandeurOfIllusion, Feb 10, 2013, 2:11:53 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

The puzzle and confusion,
Bewildered and deluded,
To wander by yourself,
In this web of allusion.

A path to be forged,
But full of counterfeits,
Which one is true to you?
Is it possible to see this through?

Agitation, irritation,
Felt through impending failure,
At the solution,
Of this great riddle.

Confounding, humiliating,
Ensnaring you into,
A corner to be possessed,
By the maze of, you.

Labyrinthby ~GrandeurOfIllusion

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

©2013 ~GrandeurOfIllusion

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~Ro-Noziglia Feb 10, 2013

This Is really good, and beautifully writen

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Mood: Joy

~GrandeurOfIllusion Feb 11, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you.

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