[x]

Waiting for a coach
and four
that never came,
she realized
a ball gown
won't bloom
out of sackloth;
glass slippers
are not dependable
and mice
are best left
to their own devices.
Midnight was never a friend,
and under that suit
he is the same as any other
man.

IcarusSun girl,

the whispering stars
& feathered clouds dance
for you tonight.

Do not let anyone
clip your wings;

you were made for the skies.

Definition of a Writerwrit•er

noun /rītər/

A writer is a person
Who sees the world differently
From a high perspective of understanding
To an easily balanced imagery

They stand at the edge of the cliff
And run that extra mile
To gain what a normal person cannot see
And to obtain the hope that they wish to cherish

A writer is a person
Who buries their ego and places boulders upon it
They learn the rules, follow the rules, and will break the rules
And make writing their own

They lay upon the dusty old ground of a graveyard
And do an annual ritual to free the inspiration that has been pinned down
They want to show their abnormality to everyone

Red DressDon’t put on your red dress
for he doesn’t know the meaning
he doesn’t want the commitment
he doesn’t care for the color.

The red dress you love to wear
that’s stained from wine and beer
but still carries so much meaning
for who could find a second red dress

Don’t go out on your red dress
for the man who wants nothing more
to screw around and doesn’t understand
the meaning behind a simple red dress.

A red dress for when you dance.
A red dress for when you cry.
A red dress for when you need it.
A red dress for when you care too much.

Don’t put on your red dress for him darling
he doesn&rsqu

i got flowers oncei am lonely.
i received flowers once
and i placed them
in a vase til
the petals all browned
desiccated
and turned to dust
on the glass of my bureau.

i have never gotten flowers since.

i spend my days
with a boy
a man
whom i love far beyond reason
and he holds me in his arms
and holds me together.

i bite my nails
and pull my hair
over the moment when he
inevitably
feels the disenchantment
fall over his body,
all clean lines
and smooth shapes,
and realises that leaving
the worst thing
would be
the best thing.

i am lonely
and even with a hand to hold,
and even with a cloak of security
bunching around my shoulders
and hiding my thighs,
i feel

moonshines in georgiaman on the moon:

giddy with lumps of north georgia seas
greased on the crease of my lips
gravity drips from couch-cavities
when tides belch from below --

burst on the water's edge,
earth's bourbon sailors retch in moonshined ripples
trickled blue murder on their crinkled crimes;
raking water wrinkles like a wayward drunk
stuck on sunken bootleggin' dreams.

it's been a long, long time
since I've drowned your hemisphere
for fishing like a moonraker,
swishing my bait-lines like tobacco's
squished in your shallow gums
before you dare to down my air
breathing in this sincere georgia night.

L.E.S.B.I.A.N.Living on the
Edge of life
Saving myself
Being who
I truly am
As it is all i can be
Never forget that

Blame The ParentsI won't be able to keep a relationship in the future because I'm scared
I'm scared it'll turn out like theirs

I'm a pacifist because I hate watching it
I hate watching them fight

I have PTSD because of their fights
Their fights almost broke up this family

I self harm because they are pushing me over the edge
I was already close to jumping, but they gave me an extra push

I'm always in my room because that's how I run away
I guess that's called "Like father, like daughter"

I only eat one meal a day because he constantly puts me down
Even though he's joking, I can tell he means every bit of what he says

I can't trust anyone because they do

Missing piecesMissing pieces

There are wounds
that never heal; silences
so loud they thunder - I stopped
breathing years ago, that night
the ice took my chest. Since then
I walk in pieces, howling
around my heart.

-SophieCT, 2012, 2013

field notesi read some poetry
just for the sound--for the words lilting up and down
and the thick, honeysepia
polaroids unmisting in my head.
those are the poems i never understand
and the only conclusion i can draw is:
there is apparently
some supernova poetic awakening that comes
with the loss of virginity
and basically i need to get laid.

Asperger's SyndromeAsperger’s Syndrome

This is what makes me different.
It is what makes me both distant and compassionate.
It is what makes me both tired and creative.
It is what makes me both sassy and awkward.
It is what makes me both fairly normal and completely insane at the same time.

This is what makes me amazing.
It is what gives me my talents and achievements.
It is what gives me my intelligence and ideas.
It is what gives me my humor and individuality.
It is what gives me my passion and dedication.

This is what makes me flawed.
It is what makes me confused and anxious.
It is what makes me exhausted and frustrated.
It is what makes me uncertai

MorningA black cat sleeps in a ray of sun
My coffee is lousy
Another cardboard morning
The day isn't a blank canvas
Waiting to be painted
Its already scrawled with
Yesterday's mad crayon drawings

Smoke drifts up and out of the window
I drink the coffee

van houten must be godi. you know how in embroidered cloth,
from the bottom under the design,
all you see are knots? her honey-like,
crying
voice lulls me to sleep,
that's what we see of God's plan.
just the knots. when in reality,
it's the design on top;
beautiful and flawless that He
has in store for us.
bullshit.
i learnt that word
when i was three
but every time i said it,
my face hurt and mom's hand fell.
God will put you
in hell.
do you want that?
i knew better than to say it again.
ii. you're an estimated
fallacy, the perfect
misconception.
you don't need to exist
for people to believe.
they make you real with
dancing tongues behind
a crowd
of murmuring lips of
god's will.
iii. of the rain,
i sang songs, whispering
prayers only you
could hear.
if you truly are
what they say for you to be,
then there are no secrets
between you and me.
mother still sings
the same songs
in the rain, hoping
you'll hear her the way
i thought you would.
but she doesn't know you died long ago
with chiv

blood-red wine and skeleton jazz i.
the day you left,
your cobweb dress clung to you in ways
that i would dream about for years,
in hot, fevered nights
when the moon thought it might burst
in the sky,
and even the wind wailed your name.

ii.
i remember how you called make-up war paint,
and you drew it across your face like a message
i could never decipher;
i remember how i got goosebumps when i heard
your heels clicking across the floor at 3am
when you finally got home and slipped into bed;
i remember longing for you with every fiber of my being,
feeling separate from you even when our clothes lay on the floor
and your fingernails dug into my shoulders
and your toes curled

thieves of nocturne skiesPaper lanterns are midnight requiems
That tell me to look beyond the
light and have &

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The ApocryphaStories and legends were told
The pages of this tome unfold
Tales of a man damned by whim
Every action fraught with sin

A book as old as birth
Dug up from the old earth
Apocyphal content, useless worth
Covered over with the shroud
A book as old as birth
Dug up from the old earth
Apocryphal content, useless worth
Missing value in this vision

Dust wrapped and sealed
This filth was peeled
Away and gave new life
Through the neverending strife

Plundered from a vault deep
The ground would have it keep
Safe and sound this precious volume
Almost lost by solute

A book as old as birth
Dug up from the old earth
Apocyphal content, useless worth
Cover

Murky TemptationIn the cold embrace
The darkness leaves distaste
Beckoning from a distance
Fed with no resistance
It calls to your mind
Forces you to abandon the world behind

The dark is cheering
Your limbs, it's steering
Into its depths and core
Leaving your past life sore
The dark, it blows the trumpet

Ringing in your head
Over and over until you're dead

Wheeled away in your sleep
Hailed by the bird's tweet

Off too this forgotten land
The one that time turned too sand

A union born of control
But you did freely stroll

The dark is cheering
Your limbs, it's steering
Into its depths and core
Leaving your past life sore
The dark, it blows the trumpet

The

The TorchbearersThe light it burnt and in him embedded
Life prematurely ended
It seared and scorned
A blaze that forewarned
It spoke of the horrors
Hardship and sorrows
Born of this cult
Man to be the fault

A line of the crazed
The sermon of slaves
Every man and woman
Serving his troubles
Fire and torch kept in hand

Ceremonial worship
Blasphemous curses
Kept in tow by the bright
Blinding, pure, white light
Removing the eyes
Scarring the skies
Misguided and bemused
This horde of the confused

A line of the crazed
The sermon of slaves
Every man and woman
Serving his troubles
Fire and torch kept in hand

A line of the crazed
The sermon of slaves

Enslaved pie

Enslaved In DuskDragged on by the collar
Led blindly by a liar
A sheep to the slaughter
Fed onto the funeral pyre

The night is a curse
Growing and made worse

A minion, a slave
Something wicked that did crave
Slowly drawing you in
Absorbing your every sin

The night is a curse
Growing and made worse

The ignorance and pain
Forced to abstain
Driven on by an unknown
A dark that crept in and grown

The dark of the night
Magnifies your plight
Attracted by the 'light'....

The dark of the night
Magnifies your plight
Attracted by the 'light'....

The dark of the night
Magnifies your plight
Attracted by the 'light'....

Mystery and concern
The suspense that would

BansheeCries, cries, cries....

It's screech a signal to you
The call of the Underworld soon
The bell toll for death
Came to claim your last breath
The noise harsh and deafening
Cacophanous and threatening
Your ears ring and bleed
Your nose haemorrhage and concede

The voice of this evil
A hate swimming with betrayal
Would creep up and sunder
An alarm that knelled down
Brought you all to broken knee
From this crooked banshee

With claws held high
You look up and die
As scolding ashes blow
With the wind they flow
Luring her new plaything
Disasters are what she's blaming
But this temptress knows no bounds
Unleashing it's seekers, it's hounds!

The voi

Encrypted MurderEnclosed in this cabinet
A pristine clone, a laminate
Of glass panes for all to gawk
That the deranged would stalk
You were defiled and broke
By the hands of a freak, choked
The controversy and mystery
Is too be abandoned to history

The heads are rolling
Their bodies strolling
Directly into this
Maelstrom of fucking hate!
The encrypted murder
Spiralling further
Down into the dark deep!

This conspiracy theory
Shadowed and careering
Has left your mind with this scar
That can be traced both near and far
A vein who's pulse would call
Your blight, your death, your fall
But they continued to dampen you
Blind the truth, misconstrude few

The heads

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Vanguard

by ~GrandeurOfIllusion, Feb 11, 2013, 12:15:38 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

Swords clash amid a storm of fury,
Steel cutting and iron scoring,
The spit of rifles roar,
And cannon-pounding galore.

Generals scream at the top of their voice,
Lungs emptied to speak their choice,
Of maneuvers and tactics to score,
A victory in this vicious war.

This is a hell like no others,
As grown men wince for their mothers,
A horror that none could face.
One more leg in this bloody race.

Vanguardby ~GrandeurOfIllusion

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

~Darkshift-Patriot Feb 11, 2013

Awesome! Great imagery!

~GrandeurOfIllusion Feb 11, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Hehe thank you.

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Vanguardby ~GrandeurOfIllusion

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