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These Metaphor Dream poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Dream. These are the best examples of Metaphor Dream poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
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Inside a knowledge turning cogs on this wheel born from the darkness a heart rules supreme fear in one wish looking towards tunnel light love All that will remain when all turns to dust threads of life dance kneeling weak alone humble and meek finding a balance Weeping rivers flow haunting sea waves turn the key truth is something beautiful touching deeply chords Chilling whispers rise warm oasis warmly embraces hold creeping inside beauty beams within shadows Dancing starlight kissing ocean reflections twinkle sparkle glisten teardrops coldly ripple out Floating on a cloud of breath precious beauty a mystery that means something special finest mother of pearl gem coloring rainbow jewel shines forever Frozen dew quicksilver lining echoes time answers always cold as ice crystals dazzling diamond stillness pure Frosted vision clear cutting ivory white one cool snowflake falls baptism in regal glowing crowning full face splendor enchants a ball walking along golden strands looking across the sea midnight strikes Sleepless nights held over and back destiny calls your name utopia faraway dreaming our love complete
Oh darling you have become an angel sweetheart blossoming regal crowns one flake unique floating into dreams so beautiful they sing only you Pure petal wings flutter dressed in the color of snow purest kiss of beauty They dance particles ice inside warm love melts shining into the purest thoughts A faraway star winking in the night sky neon grasps breathless Confetti crystals falling sprinkles gently laying a carpet upon the ground Whom embraces the outer body sweetly enchants I open four chambers holding all keys out applauding flutters skipping echo pops each beat My queen warmly holds hands with the soul grace of a thousand swans in flight Once bitten twice shy one kiss from you smitten I would say smiling overjoyed I will always smile in loves amazing grace in soft gentle tenderness the joy it brings Wishing that one was holding you right now footsteps in deep sand begins touching Wow mirror, mirror what a dream baby who blew one out off this world spinning you're so beautiful smiling these eyes dazzling mirror reflections blinding
You Man -a request by Mam Aiyah You as a man can fill up this world With the love of your heart, Let them flow into your veins As the oxygen of your spirit Goes into the lungs of your kindness You as a man can share the thoughts of your brain, Even though your memory is not that enough to complete the story Let your axon abound and connect to the spinal cord of your dreams You as a man can smile with your lips Let there be a good quotes for every word Of your mouth as they slip, Swallow all the sorrows, Cut the sadness of your teeth, make them fly away You as a man can show your eyes with happiness, Mix this with inspirations As they blink in with visionaries You as a man can smell the fragrance of nice posture Strain the bad from good using your cilia, As your thumb and index made it concrete And threw them at a distance You as a man can hear solutions, Can fight all the negative pictures With your muscles in your skeleton, You can build a problem killer device Energy is your emotions, You as a man can face all of your knotty points You can hold the sky, As your feet stay on the ground… Because you as a MAN, Is H U M A N…
In this world of Uncertainties I'm the man that you can trust And in my words of sincerity That my love would never last. And if you could only feel, what i feel for you You can ask me "why?" so you can see the truth Like our love that tightens the rope, Like a light that would give us hope. As you watch the dark skies Let me grab the moon for you, And as I catch the bright stars That's the way you can see me through As this planet turns as it always will And things go wrong and you don't know what to feel Hold my hand for it will make us strong Like a wind, we will carry on The wind blow that sings a hymn for you For they know what does love means for the two Love is blind, and not deaf So how's success if you're not ready to bet? In this poem with full of rhymes, A full of love, Babe can you be mine? I don't expect too much from you Why should I? If you complete my whole. "Till death do us part" that's what they have said But why do struggles crash them ahead? Don't ask me when my love will last, To count all of our quarrels, is that a must? Now and Forever is all that I promise No day dreaming and without reminiscence As the matter of time, as the time passes by Together we stand, together you and I A poem for my Girlfriend for our anniversary :) pls comment and rate... you are free to judge and criticize my work :) God Bless
The days seem to go by so fast. there is a void in the air, the birds have lost their vibrant beat, the ocean has lost its luster, the soil feels solid and dry. My soul feels as if it has left my body before my death, my dreams haunt my day, the tears stain my steps, my doctor says that it is depression, I say that it is reality, I am intoxicated by society,I am numb by perscriptions. Why do I feel so isolated within myself? is there no one in my painfully tight shoes? can anyone understand my pain? can anyone melt in my sorrows? why am I this way? why is the world so cruel? why can't I be normal? Wait! I am normal, what am I saying, I know now, the veil has been lifted, humanity is my enemy, the sins that drip from their sweat, the dread that follows their shadows, their souls of black, their intentions of greed pull a shade across their eyes. They are destined for doom, they will not be saved, they will not find salvation, they belittle me, they curse me, they shame me, but they are right about one thing, I am different, unlike them, I will be saved in the last days.
Twigs Flowers bloom And flowers wilt. Flowers blush And flowers fade. The eternity is only in me- The twig that bears the flowers. Sparrows are born And sparrows die. Sparrows fly And brighten the sky. That who nurtures sparrows is me- A cozy make of a twig upon a twig. The sun fades And moon is born. The twilight blurs And moonlight spreads. All the soothing moonlight beams are me- A crisscross of unfathomed twigs. Whether in its birth Or in its death; In the heart Of its heart; The entire beauty is none but one- A design of mysterious twigs.
She is the muse to her own sorrow; She is the digger of her grave. She is the painter of her ocean view and every fatal wave. She is the shadow of her Father; She is the darkness in your sight. She is the night without the stars surrounding pale moonlight. She is the music with no words; She is sweet love without the reason. She is your dreamer with submission cold by warmth with every season. She is your pet with cold intentions; She is your baby scared and shaken. She is the bold and pure- the lost and found, She is a soul awakened.
Sunshine beams sparkles softly golden magic Breathtaking horizon of dreams spells casting Feelings, faces and memories within Shall follow the nature´s endless spin Creeping higher morning glory rising perfect splendor Smiling warm rays inside hot radiance glows Dizzy with pleasure, tears a falling star rain wet drop of heaven Total silence no vibration pearls on leaves dried Songbirds sing praise in a heavenly choir whistling tunes Enchanting dewdrops sparkling shivers, silver glistens Diamond shining clearly colors beauty awakening Rainbow riches polishing a heart to the highest luster Into a landscape of dreams and hope The green grass will grow for another tomorrow A co write written by Liam Mcdaid and Anne-Lise Andresen :) - 12.01.2015 - - Thank you anne lise
Enter a storybook tale Where I can be The heroine you hail Lucid dreams of soft reflection A touch heated with lust and desired protection A breathe a gasp as we succeed Join the fairytale with me Valiant night within dark eyes the right movement and I make them shine like moonlight on the steamy hot spring care to follow for a little dip with me Trailing like the water at my fingertips Grasp me around my hips As close as the breeze on my skin Whisper lies as I let you in Lips mumbling up my thighs bare heart exposed to the sky fire burning in my veins Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave Trembling with desire Take me till we've lost count of the hours enter this storybook tale Where I can be the heroine you hail
the sun sets in my mind never to arise for darkness soothes the glaring light that carries all the lies and in the place where I sleep I come alive in my dreams never wishing to awake stitched in threads of reality seams so let the sun rise steadfast and so sublime just let me sleep so I can dream of sunsets in my mind
generic minds listen to generic music have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive watch generic things talk about generic things gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease better get your flu shot thats what they said to me a suicidal vaccine a subliminal killing spree its contagious and the outrageous thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye that they didn't even know they had it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians inside the looking glass with nightmares of being free without a key to their mind for it is trapped in the frequency in the illusion of time bathed in our universe killing all that refuse to see those that admit to hypocracy or see the message in hip hop how cant you see the message in the lyrics that bring adolescents to their knees from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh contradicting that they're the best but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest that they dont wanna go home that they should ride alone with the gat as their only companion and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain they realize that the music itself is ashamed so whats to look up to when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious so when youre screaming oh please close your eyes and bring your mind to life open your eyes for the first time and never wonder why since the answer this entire time has been inside and you better find it before you die you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others a buncha brothers missing their mothers but only seeing strangers only feeling the haters wishing they would have used their minds when they had them and now its too late, now it's time for another new born fate to grab them
Do you believe in the things that you've always known, Can you understand the things you've been shown. Is it the visions you see that make you believe, Or is the feelings you get when you've been deceived. The pain you feel a never ending ache , Tearing your heart and soul from you every day. Time ticks slowly pounding away at you, Throbbing heart breaking and there's you can do, Must I settle for these lost and broken dreams, Because it has all the signs that what it seems. How much should a man endure to find his way, It cant possibly be like this hard for me every day. There is nothing so frustrating as being so confused, Especially when you've discovered that you've been used. I will get through this lonely phase I have no doubts, But I'm sure there will come a day I'll figure it all out. Cautiously I walk the path that's been laid before me, In faith I will continue for I know he will let me see. Life will be thrown at you in so many different ways, I will be prepared for these things for the rest of my days. Broken dreams will be the learning tree for me to grow , Living my life with Joy Happiness is what I'll always Know. tac
A new photograph floats to the surface Playfully dressing up as the world around me Hat, striped socks and all Tiptoeing at the top for one last sweet moment Before sinking back into my ocean mind. One after another they arrive Single file, Steeping my eyes in the world As the minds shutter, ever fluttering Strings together this conscious stream I play in. My photographs fade in time's wrinkled arms. Joining their brothers and sisters at the ocean floor, They hold hands and try to answer the question that is always asking itself: Who am I? Jacob Reinhardt 10/3/2013
Which way leads to the land of green white green? Which way are we heading? A country the wicked bears the rulership, and the people sighing continuously. A terrible thing sprouts beneath the sun: a pregnant woman delivering not. Imps come to lime-light by snuffing air from the goose that laid the golden eggs. The blind guiding the un blind. The weak suppressing the strong-a terrible thing. Like the overthrow of the gods at Mt. Olympus by the Titans. A country where also thieves appear as men of integrity. Land of green white green,which way? A land where the enlightened ones are overshadowed and peanuts given to them. The masses are dogs that eat the crumbs. Which way to go you Land? Iliterates stand on podium of power bellowing orders as milk of sorrow known as dividends of democracy is passed around. The machine of progress manned by the unproductive. "There is better tomorrow" we hear. Land of green white green,my country where rule of law walk beside anarchy. The proles are sentenced to adversity,and there endured death-like trials. Chai! Aru! People dancing on thorns whimpering as they throng along. I see a new sun rising from the horizon,hope is rekindled as its rays grace on hopeless bodies. Look!! there soon be change! Note: This is poem full of Nigeria political angst.
The Beach of Promises 1. Fingers entwined, barely touching, turquoise waters teasing your dancing toes, strolling along that serene deserted beach, our promised dreams within aching reach. 2. Hands clasped, holding on, sea-breezes tickling the nape of your neck, walking together, alone, vowing to never breach, the dreams dreamed on that faraway velvet beach. 3. Hands in my pockets, alone, traces of you linger, teasing, lost in my scribbles, your memory fading out of reach, my thoughts ablaze, now and then, catching a whiff of your fragrance, wafting through alleyways of nostalgia, your hand in mine on our pristine beach.
Oh tree to my right how you mirror the left Tree on the left, with great vigor you grow When waters run dry, your roots search below To the ends of all branches; lush fruits like Eden Hundred thousand leaves dance in the wind Oh tree to my right what phantom did come Yielding fruit no more; nor vivid leaves to sway All branches have ceased, no more but a stump Fifty thousand leaves dance in the wind Oh tree to my left so valiant, so true A whip of your branch & firm grip of the wind To the right, one seed you give; let life grow anew Solitude tis as fire bound for a tree, a simple truth to all Fifty thousand leaves dance in the wind Oh tree to my right; look, now you're grown As was, now are; from the tree to the left came your rebirth Teeming with life & beauty displayed Hundred thousand leaves dance in the wind
A thorough yield On a farm field of far east It took me time to realize How far I am to my far east of coast Call of my weather Call of my winds I sailed further and farther To my naked coasts Naive songs, Nimble rains Nile of rivers, Nascent clouds Reaching this far I kissed my earth Ground of my grief Glory of my ghosts Glad is those leaves However scanty they are Cast is my shadows No longer they hide My colors and my figures They cast numbers on stars Measure their light Scope my winters Scale my summers Scanty my rains Scuttle I wish my springs Now let me see my greens Their leveling heights Their leafy gaze Their spiderly gesture Their primordial texture Now let me be slow In company of my greens #Poem by +Gokul Alex
I look to the skies hoping to see a sign A sign of a stars shining like diamonds I toss the thoughts of you to the heap of stars All the happiness dressed with flowers I took time to remember you singing A voice so sweet it turned roses yellow I yelled to the gloomy mountains for you And light shone like twilight in heaven Through demons and angels my plea recognized And I finally feast on your beauty like a vulture Thou thoughts mingle in space and time I remembered your dancing eyes with adventure So keen to let the desires leave the dust I saw you in the sky strolling like a queen towards eternity
I Breath Attention Deficit Disorder Interrupted Dream Stream Incoherent Quilted Cubist Psych Ward Babble Someone Put Something In My Coke The dark recesses curl like kittens fuzzy warm and sleeping, with no pajamas on their fur. Open is the invitation crack the window let in air for fragrance outside breathing calm inhaling triumphant singing. Move to Nashville, stage the Opera; throw a dollar on the stage. Often open, seldom ready marks a path along a hollow into winters raging. Be not turned inside upside downward, rather relieve the suffering while to vertical you are bound. Stride an elephant deftly tromping on the streets of east Mumbai costume flapping, lightning snapping. Be thou humble with the story, mankind made a fool's mistake, Certain notion, restful potion, cream like velvet on the snow. Brashly beaming, streaming bubbles sprout from cavern oft crestfallen in the drift. I breathe. Take to work the office routing even if the time descends Into nothing blanked out blackboard, grieving with no purpose, even skunks and bugs are linked. Finnigan sold his coupon lumber stoking smokestacks to the sky. Seldom eating we go fastly, forking noodles, traveling to a nether tincup alley. There are regions chalked to blackboard numbers where my inner cushion rebels against the prick. Take a number, sit in silence, wait for service, won't be long. Well I rumble, so I ramble, thinking slowly, drumming down the street we go. Ever after, mud on mittens, coat will wrap the shoulders warm. Across the steppe Mongols thunder, dark eyes gleaming, seeking blood. We seek shelter, crowding under eves extended, stretched 'neath dry shingles made of magic, moldy hanging. Dread diseases taint the morning; evenings are a sleepless battle. Dreaming haunts us, waking taunts us 'till in slow relenting fashion we slip and fall as ice we tread. Cactus flowers bloom so brightly; ever slightly we append tags to tattered clothing fresh from ironing. Wasteful is the revelation sent along a wire of copper strung out bleakly 'cross the desert sands. Take a tumble on the dunes, roll along the wavy crest. Once a person told a story that I thought would penetrate into iron and into steel. Broken windows lie there shattered like the wishes of a sailor reeling on the deck of ship that's sailing far to Australia's coral shore. Chicken drumsticks roll like thunder beating on a tensioned skin. Be not weary in the making, build a solemn reaching tower to Venusian boiling turmoil, breathing poison, breathing evil; Gaining power, I exhale.
And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand A gentle call that urges my soul forth The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk Between the stones and ash of all that once was I stand in the echoing silence of the rain It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body I feel at once as if I am home Standing amid two dimensions Caught between two skies - here and there The night wraping around me in warmth The gentle wind lifting me off my feet Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body and I am left just a soul, an essence The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof Beckoning me into its depth I stand among the reeds in the basin They dance and sway as if welcoming me And I sway with them back Caught up in the power that charges the air That threatens to sweep me away If the ground will just loosen its hold The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl And I get pleasently lost within it I am so small compared to its vastness I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars A sigh drifts from my lips There is no need of thought to stay afloat There is no demand to breathe in air No crushing weight upon my chest As my lungs struggle to survive There are no struggles here I make my bed on blackened clouds And give in to the call The storm has claimed me as its own It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground When the storm would call me home
In the midst of darkness descending above me, Stillness seems to overtake sound, Allowing moments for deep thought in this mirror of solitude. I tend to reminisce on those dreams I grab from the photogenic events of the past. Once touched, I'm taken back by the moments that can't be replaced. So during this moment of tranquility; I pray no external force interrupts this, The calm waters in my mind. Lucky for me, it's a reoccurring dream; And as vivid as these fantasies are, None compare to the peaceful illusions of family gatherings. It was only yesterday, when I illustrated thoughts of a child, Always curious of that deep ocean floor, Where familiar kin paint their residence ; I was an eyewitness to many overlooked areas within my family's ocean. Yet with many pieces missing as a result of loved ones ascending to a higher cause, This puzzle remains incomplete until that last tomorrow. However in these possible moments of delusion; I'm a child again touching the fabric of my influential past. As I continue this unforgettable daydream, I ask again for no interruption; For with every reminiscent moment, I know of myself better and what I could be in a tangible future.
I once was like a catipiller young,naive,and new Always living from my heart not knowing what else to do.Easy to take advantage of, that is just the case, people would walk over me like I was their dirty used up suitcase. Now I feel a newness coming, like a light shining from the sky, colors fill my world and I know I am blooming into a butterfly. Purple,Pink, Blue and Green I can feel them flowing through. Colors of the rainbow raising me into full bloom. Wise and strong I am becoming My faith leads me where I need to go giving me insight and wiseness for only me to know. I have not done this on my own you see I have been guided by God and Angels on this Earth. Wise words the wisdom at it's best comes from a wise lady who seems to know me best. Lucky, I am to have her in my life, she always shoots it straight and tells me like it is, knowing her words touch my heart and gives me tons of faith.. I feel like flying through the sky or climbing a tree way up high. I feel like observing the world just like a brand new butterfly so as I Bloom I become Anew something unlike the past Smart and wise beautiful on the inside and outside a touch of color here a touch of color there makes me glow and become a beautiful blooming butterfly... Written By: Christina A McCullouch 04/09/2013
i look to stars and wishes flew through space never to be heard again fun to friends hearts do meld and break facing until time ends this loop that plays and beats that syncopate become but a gem pleasure a chest opened in surprise feeling no need to defend galaxies away lonely planets please keep me in mind distance could grow something fond or lost between the lines gps my love you can see its still where I left it behind thoughts fade away with life love lives forever in my rhyme Im sorry, I wanted more,with all this space between disconnected and I still look to that day we talked on the phone, our separate homes the love we had seemed so far away without air i couldnt breathe squeezed until I'm passing by no water flow my skin would dry and I return to the sky sunny days would blacken out, attracting need for desperate lies to make up for the beauty lost from death slowly closing my eyes that fire once sparking motion snuffed in huffs slipping away dwifting I sway shaky grounds where once I sat easily and stay upon my feet I still float drowning out all thoughts that stray Tho these ends can come swift its worse to miss and hear you say Im sorry, I wanted more,with all this space between disconnected and I still look to that day we talked on the phone, our separate homes the love we had seemed so far away down the road,flying free, I ride the wave and hope for your return through several seas and cloudy peaks, storms of sand, I will not turn helpless to fate and future events, nothing prevents something to learn sights may not sore, nothing much looking more, isn't my concern I hope the best and happyness is true to bless you, not just in dreams we can meet when we sleep discussing life while sleeping seems thanks for trying Im not exactly dying, banes of sentient beings real enough moving on is rough, i'll love you forever, writting my means
Dancing rainbow shade, up! Up! Up in the air! Dutifully knight-like armors for me and my hair From sunny light's warmth and glare Enabling, granting me to run and play From even sweet to mournful skies With it... still, I can relax, enjoy a passing day Wish I can move up! Up! Grasp! Gripping! Using it's hand! Naughty wind will blow us away! Magically, soaring like the sleigh! Hoping, no lightning shall struck, It's spectrum of petals Avoiding, any fatal dilemma Yet, if heaven's light struck I pray only a minor trauma Such a probable day with my umbrella by olive_eloi 1:31 am 03/24/2014 CONTEST: Poem with a theme of "Umbrella" Free Poetry SPONSOR: LEONORA GALINTA 4TH PLACE ---------------------------------------------------------
Run outside, Jump in the leaves That fall beneath the maple tree. The rabbit hole been covered long, So it is safe to sleep upon. I sleep all day in the breeze, Then finally wake from a dream. In my dream, the monsters came, As angels cried and Sirens sang. We marched around for hours long, Causing mayhem in the wrong. We picked up cats by their tails, Messed up rooms and let out wails. We crashed cars, boats, and trains. Knocked down buildings without blame, Until I heard a voice that rang, Dinnertime had come again. Where I would sit quietly, And even eat my food nicely. I'd do my homework, Brush my teeth, Then go to bed and fall asleep.
God made all people But some better than others? Stop being silly.
All around me Great cities made of sand. Green sky scrapers poke through the ground To thrive in life's strict conditions And melt away with the tide… Great houses made of cards Form lines, and tightrope walk existence, Knowing that any moment, the wrong brick may fall And buckle our world to its knees As Mother Earth shouts Jenga! from the sidelines. So while were here We dance with the Glass Goddess Poised miles above reality, Leaping over the heavens on our domino stilts- We floor it in the sky Living death in the fast lane, Seizing the day Because any moment We could disappear Into Jacob Reinhardt 10/15/2013
when you're fast asleep and thoughts creep into your head and flood your brain until it weeps and your mind descends dark and deep into a land of dead end worlds where the only way out is the way you came in but the road is way too steep and your feet are made of lead and every smile is just pretend and nothing is to be believed and you're going off the deep end bleeding rivers of hatred into a pool of shallow deceit where every thought is colored red and every shade of black completes every nightmare ever conceived born of blood-stained dreams within dreams where that person you used to be is falling into skies of silent screams and contemplating death all the while wishing to be alive again
Sleep's the Great Healer— Sleep's the Revealer Of hidden meanings, Unbidden gleanings. When sorrow aches us, Sleep overtakes us— Stealing away grief, Like a welcome thief. Night is the coverlet For a longing lover— yet It's Sleep who delves Deep into our selves, Finding dusty dreams... on shadowy shelves. When life's a jailor, Sleep's the unveiler Of an inner key... To set us free. Sleep's our best friend At a hard day's end— Weaver of fantasy... with reality, Make-believer of what could be... Sleep's the Great Healer... of you and me. – Harley White < 1987 >
I know you. Candles lit, incense fuming, You like it when I bite your neck, just hard enough. Blankets thrown about the room So recklessly, they refold themselves. And we roll down a hill together, Kissing the leaves, tickling with our eyes, Laughing with our hearts. "You'll just leave me for the next girl you find." "Yes," I say. Because only Nothing Lasts forever. And it spills through the cracks in your hands The moment you grasp it. Like water from a stone. She bites my neck Drawing lines of ecstasy down my back with her fingernails Spilling into me, fighting my words. "I leave when the sun sets."
Her devilish eyes beat at me taking flesh with every blow,her rendered heart beat sounds like tribal drum rolls an her skin drips venom from its pores , I find myself helpless and paralyzed , everything else seems trivial and meaningless to this moment,..she exhales smoke and lightning flows from her finger tips ,she is the antichrist the source of my device, but I can't help but give her my heart,I question my gift but remain entranced caught in her red moonlit ritual dance,sight of her is blinding , she is what Every man desires but can't reach, it feels like heaven but I sweat from the heat,the pain she inflicts is bitter sweet an burns like salt in a wound ,she is gods most regretted creation born for the night with a hunger that cannot be fed,hold her down chain her up she cannot be contained , pentagrams burn white in her eyes,she's a shape shifting voodoo angel that sleeps with vipers ,yet I seek her and desire her with every thread of my existence and have turned into an insomniac who day dreams of her , cut by the thorns of the rose she wears in her hair , always the day of the dead and raining razorblades, the tree limbs reach out for my embrace but every one of them are shadowed with her face,I close my eyes I can always find her there , lay with her in the ground every breath she takes is sin ,she's a black rosé that cannot be changed a black rosé that cannot be contained , ashes to ashes dust to dust I cut my heart to be with her and bleed undying trust,it's only her....everything else I feel is not real .....
Oh lonely Inevitable Bear, Padding claws, death in white Sorrow in recurring nightmare Instinct's test; fight or flight? Camouflage against the fence, A challenge; my subconscious fear Ominous slowly moving silence, "Let me in, there's a bear out here!"
My Wishes are Simple My wishes are simple, my desires few, to gaze upon an ocean, and marvel at a solitary drop of dew. My wishes are simple, my dreams not too grand, to feel the waves teasing my tired feet, with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand. My wishes are simple, my thoughts serenely gentle, calm, my heart resting beneath a swaying palm, healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.
You are a person i've met before. The man who stands knocking at my door. I remember you from my dreams, Your eyes sparkle and your smile gleams. You held the door open as I ran in for shelter from the cold weather & rain. You are the man I stood next to in line. You are the man I passed by I danced as you sang the songs chorus. I pushed my way through... the sea of people and stopped next to you. Amidst the crowd we stood, searching for a way out I looked around, I glanced in your direction, I looked past you I found my way out, I hurried my way through. I walked away having not met you. A second glance, I did not take, unaware that our meeting was fate. You are a person i've met before, Sometime ago on a night like tonight, The air was warm, the stars shining bright The night that we met, I danced that night, I danced and danced until the morning light I sat to lay my feet to rest, you came to me no different from the rest You asked me for a cigarette. An open chance to conversate knowing this interaction would not lead to a date We shared thoughts and ideas of similar interests. such as music and poetry, art and astrology. At the time I thought nothing of it, a casual meeting of the mind. Little did I know, I would continue to meet you throughout my lifetime. You are a person i've met before, I've read your book of poetry at the local book store. you write of life, love and family. You are a person i've met before, I've seen your paintings, they are hard to ignore You are the artist I dream of meeting You are a person i've met before. You are the man in my dreams, Your eyes sparkle and your smile gleams. I've met you 100 times before, You are the man who stands knocking at my door.
Catching Fire Some of us are watching the skies for works of fire While some of us are quietly catching it. Which are you?
Sorrow chokes sanity in the brimstone fumes of Hell that consumes all but memory plastered against the walls of his cell. My mind can't comprehend... Perhaps he did wrong or mercy he did not lend, but here resides the angel of song. His wings are torn, tattered like his serenity when he fell into heat's scorn. Once he was beauty's epiphany. The shofar's sound dwindled to let screams take stage. The music he once kindled turned against him in bloody rage. Yet he will rise once more. The fallen creature in his cell and will play a new music's score telling of the angel in Hell.
If there is one thing I remember It is what life told Just open your eyes All that glisters may not be gold So who is to blame and whose fault I hold The halo effect, the one in disguise Manifesting deception in front of thy eyes Treat one different because of their look Why read? Judge the cover of the book? But you do read others because they don't have the look If you understand, how long has it took? The halo effect, we magnify a trait Condone the flaws, we magnify a trait Attractiveness, is this what you mean? All this talk, my perception a feign? What I see, aint what it seem? Huh, thanks for this, as well as that. The halo effect, my mind was hacked.
Pop may be catchy But not lyrically deep Case in point: Chris Brown. (N.B. Poem written after hearing "Don't Wake Me Up")
Water licks your feet Far cry from the beating sun Desert sand to sea
There's fire in my lungs. smoke flows through my veins. I feed the beast my soul to gain euphoric pain. I serve he who lives in me. The monster in my mind. The creature so abusive, at times can be so kind. In my mental hell, I sit beside his throne. I tend to his desire, so I don't have to be alone. Here He is my god. And I, in turn, am his. A symbiotic worship, sealed within a kiss. Sulfuric fumes consume us, as we dance into the ether. The hands of god are ours. Hes made me a believer. My halo, so very worn. His horns, so alluring. Hand in hand we walk, love and hate enduring. His guidance lifts me higher than any drug could try. His chains hold me down. bound wings can not fly. Walking straight and tall, crawling on my floor. I am his moonlit goddess. And his filthy whore. I wont break his binds. I wish not, to be free. I can never escape him, for this beast is me.
You prod at the sores of your heart with a hemorrhaging pen, wishing it was a scalpel; so you could carve out the disease that keeps your rage alive. Basic instinct, I suppose. To slay the demons, that made you who you are. You thank them for your posture, but scold the obsidian eyes in the mirror. What you have become: Callous, and engulfed in the rotting theater you thought you controlled. The reigns have broken loose, your skull whips in the wind of chaos. It's not really your sort of dance, you know… You don't know the steps …you don't even know the song. It drums against your flesh as if you were already stripped and tanned, spread across the hallowed instruments of reckoning. But you can't hear the chant, only the distant hum of the butcher who said you could call him "friend". That you were safe, if only you would show him what you promised you would never show anyone. It drips, thick, coagulated, dirty. Just like every part of you, you wish you could burn; As you dig the covenant, into the flesh of your enemy; Your only true, enemy. The mirror cracks… -James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
Looking for a way out Trying to outrun the shadows in the dark Caught in this bout Of confidence and doubt Driving with my eyes closed Never knowing where to turn I prick my finger on a rose I catch myself falling, only to burn Atmosphere and fear Lead me down a path unclear Looking at the stars Trying to forget my cares Sinking in the eternity of the night Slipping away into moonlight.
SILVER Silver is the twinkling stars Silver is spilled moonlight Silver is a fairy's wings ready to take flight- A baby's laugh A wizard's staff A puppy's 'arf!' Snowflakes and angel cakes and silver spherical decorates. The highest pitch of a piano's tinker Is silver And the sea is silver When the gentle rays touch the water. Silver is a penny tossed into a wishing well Then wishes are silver Sparkling distantly But never getting fewer. Silver is a teardrop Silver is a sight Silver is the most beautiful sword Owned be the noblest knight. Silver is a ray of hope You can always cling on Silver is the budding dreams of countless childhood memories. Silver is the spiraling, Never-ending flow Of gentle fluffy snow. You can taste silver If you truly believe In the land of fantasy On Christmas eve.
From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands. Comely words of comfort put the comma in the gray; Hushed roads are dusted with sugar in the sun`s hands. Hesitating white clouds meet the night`s dark commands, But bring the dawn`s serenity for the a golden bay; From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands Luminous black jack oak stopped the moving sands; The winding road might have danced on the hills` clay; Hushed roads are dusted with sugar in the sun`s hands Recollections` last wave in the glass blowers` light stay, Smiling from Spring Lake to Thistle Shimmer`s way, From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands, Pine Barrens` silken grasses are kissed by birds of height, Chateau Inn looks at the grave laurel and blueberry gay, Hushed roads are dusted with sugar in the sun`s hands. In Paradise, rivers flow under Blueberry Month` sight.
The smell of coffee: hot and bitter in the cold winter night With the rhythm in the left hand and the rhyme in the right, He wrote a poem in his secret pocket, A wistful star like a speedy rocket Ready to leave this planet intense blue In search of other traces of life anew. He remembered after mother had died, In the cold touch ,stalagmites and stalactites cried. Father and son felt a strong taste for sweets. As in the sunset, the blind boatman meets With an awkward touch the water`s ring But generally they needn`t to eat anything For a while they rested an extraordinary team: Father insistently (sometimes boring) told him All his recollections:childhood,war and the rest… All muscles and teeth pressed hot, like ice on the crest. The son learnt them by heart, and later He would retell them to father, even better… One was on duty to wash the dishes; The other tried to follow his wishes… Their only joy was to read and read and read… One had to cook at home ,and to bake the bread In a bread factory:He was happy even when he was sad. He could recognize each bread: All his loafs were bad. He was like Chaplin in "New Times". He was speaking in figures and rhymes. He wore a monk beard and father was much more younger. Looking through the window: grey hunger and anger … At the weekend, he used to ask his father About the favourite meal, but rather He would find a surprise the next day. Each day was windy winter and grey… Father had the same touching answer:"Something good". In the strange interference ,water and fire ,one was rude. Solitude was their common friend stealing in like a lizard, But, in the afternoon they played sweeping their courtyard. They had leaves in autumn and snow in the winter. The sky was grey without sun, the clouds were bitter. Father was counting the leaves, in the old horizon The son was painting the days ,in the cold horizon. The war with the falling down leaves fighting hard With red faces like an inveterate drunkard . And years after his father met his final hope, The son would stop in front of the sweets shop , Ready to buy recollections as Christmas tree sweets.
Towards the heavens of the existing long we beheld the fleeting idea which ravishes the immense beauty to the dream but it was only out to sea of your appearing she made herself tangible, to the real, and boundless
The Canvas of Night Stars like sprinkled sugar, lay strewn across the canvas of night, enthralled by the wonder of the cosmos, my dreams take to the heavens in effervescent flight, I bathe in the beauty, soaked in sublime delight, absorbed in moments of bliss, transfixed by the serene sight. Stars like sprinkled sugar, lay strewn across the canvas of night, and my being is infused with feelings of hope, for even in darkness I find the sprinkled sugar of hope's light. note: special thanks to one of my heroes, the late Dr. Carl Sagan, for making science accessible to younger me, many, many moons ago.
Sleep is such a suffering thing, rending and mending as we go breathing through the night with troubled dreams. I would sleep with closing of the eye until the breaking of the day, but sleep evades me and gives no peace. The gray dreams wait like spider webs of the mind, so taut and sticky holding captured prey to feast.
Is my life not tortured enough for you to see? I am broken as can be. My heart is torn. My tears stain these perfect floors. Why are singing with glee? Why do you not care about my every plea? I am trapped in your arms. I am the hopeless moth. How did you pick me? What is it that you see? A girl untouched by life? A flower blooming in the desert? I have said goodbye to my loving integrity. You took that from me through R-A-P-E.
You are the air that I breathe The sunshine on my cheek But a shadow of a dream Mi belle magnifique
Precipitation: Culminates in a washout Stuffed camels get soaked
Lord, I don't understand. Maybe I never did. The destination of the path seemed so grand, yet now it looks horrid! Why? The dragon You've placed, mine to fight still breathes fire and brimstone in my neck, but I'm armoured with incapability to smite and the cobblestones You paved lead to this wreck. Why? I dreamt of the moon, but couldn't reach the stars, so I drifted into the sun and soon I would be burnt with scars. Why shroud my mind with dreams of peace at daylight's bend, yet shred it with horrors at night? Why let me pursue a rainbow when there never was an end? The past is bathed in murky waters and clothed in miry clay. Now the future looks no better and mere words can't express what I wish to say. Lord, here I lay at Your mercy, angry and heartbroken. You don't make mistakes and You set free. Please, I beg be my beacon! Loose the shackles, break the chains that I may serve You again. Show me the true way You planned, for I have reached the end of this one.
The Chicago skyline. You symbolize home. You are me and I am you. There you are Sears Tower! Just like you I will stand tall and strong Even through life's toughest winds, I might sway back and forth, But to the ground which I was built on, I'll remain. Even when people try to change my name, I'll just reply "Watchya talkin bout Willis?!" Yeah, you'll always be Sears to me. And I'll always be Joe to you. Thank You Chicago. I promise I will get as fast as The trains and planes that transport your people And when I get caught up in life's traffic, I promise to keep my cool and my destination in mind. I promise to get as strong as your culture is. I promise to always be filled with as much vigor as Your raging college students are. I promise to stay as passionate as The struggling musicians that serenade your "L" subways are. I promise I will work as hard as Your workers that are just trying to pay their bills do. I promise I'll always stay as hungry As the poor that beg on your streets are. And I promise I'll make you proud of me. For I am proud of you! Chicago, don't you know? You will always put the "O" in Joe.
The center of a star reflects just like a diamond... Returning a pearl within each silver breath that one treasures... With faceted panels, I promised I'd never... Sweep over a deep sea of blue waves unmeasured... There is a pattern woven inside golden petals that kiss the inside of my heart... Parts of my heart that I've thus' failed to start... With soft fingers dancing, you're forever entrancing... My star that's eternally far... A co write written by Liam and Christian
It's the third verse, I got the urge to purge All the curt words I've splurged, I've submerged in sin, I'll go to church repent, Then go curse again, Lets reverse this trend We nurse tolerance, When it might offend, If I white wash my fence, So try to not get tense, When I do not defend, Those who chose to be dense And not use their two cents, To show kids the reverence, For the pledge of allegiance.
my love... my love blossoms amidst the thunder across the oceans and the beyond the seas my love reaches out and touches the moments of bliss as the loneliness flees my love is simple with profound feelings of yearning desire my love rages within the furnace of this aching heart's unquenchable fire my love basks in the warmth of the knowledge that in the spring it takes root and it will flower my love breathes in the light fragrance of her hair after her warm and delicate shower my love remembers drowning in her eyes of those ethereal moments frozen forever more my love recalls the fleeting ticking of the clock each minute apart stabbing at my very core my love she knows I need her so for she needs me just as much my love she sprinkles light flourishes of her sensual touch as my love for her continues to ceaselessly grow my love reaches down into the crevasses of my of being my love for her is held onto deep inside for in the coming of the cold ache of seperation my love settles between the folds of her heart, for 'tis there that my love for will reside my love like an eternal dream caresses me in wakefulness and in sleep and that is the feeling that I shall cherish a feeling of love that has settled in me a feeling so pure and a feeling so very deep...
Sometimes I can literally feel the burn of silence. It's somewhere within my bones, a blank slate made of heavy metal poisoning. Perhaps if I cut deep enough, I can retrieve it and find the inspiration needed to purpose the lonely canvas I've sheltered for so long. And with a marrow'd ink I'll scribe the secrets I've forgotten over years of mirrored eye rolling and self propelled pity #$%*s. Finally, I'll be free to pool the ashes, and build my castle of upside down day dreams, and brightly lit nightmares. I'll call it "The Globe", and dress like Shakespeare would if he grew up in the 90's, and all my friends can help perform my drunkenly scrawled screenplays that lead, inevitably to the death of "The System" that we all helped create, just so we could have something to destroy. -James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
"No." She whispered before drowning into her sorrows. Her life had been a simple happy one. There were no pains and no troubles. Life was life and people were people. Life was simple. and life was all about tomorrows. Life didn't know about sorrows. Her sorrows. Those same sorrows that she drowned in never existed. They were never there, but where? First to be sad in the naive town of joy. Sorrow became contagious and what was known as happiness no longer was there. It was non-exististent. A meager thought and a blessed memory. She tried and tried. She failed and failed. Life was no longer hers. For Pain was her only possession. Her curse. She lived and she died. Yet, her legacy was passed on. Never was it gone. "No." She whispered before drowning in her sorrows, "Save them."
The pollution is psychedelic Hell, you could even say poetic nature Terms of enragement Definitely not engagement Can suffice in describing the depredation Fire from the skies Burning through the system Dropping through to nothing Learning not what's in them Always running from them We may hide our voices But you hide your souls Torturing us with woes Never able to feed our hole Scars bleed out like coals Paint it any color you like Doesn't change a thing This war that you've brought forth Has killed us all In the past and future There is no now…
I create monsters Then I wait in ages to hunt me Monsters in dreams as I introduce Become real hi t haunting to me as I work They made me pay the bill never on time Dreams and wishes garble in sparkly gluey neon dark cloud Than every thought haunts as I live by them It is a kind of monsters hidden in cloudy day in darkest cloud They have very special kinds a I introduce from my birth One is so kind the other everything about is greed Third one is mirror watching what you have done Monsters hunts me and fight them in my each day
Love floats by, reaching, tantalising, meandering, tip-toeing past pain, leaping through walls, weakening the barricades, of the most private heart. Love settles in, trusting, searching, dissolving, quietly beyond anguish, erasing the desolation, soothing a battered spirit, enveloping the shivering soul. Love stays, it is true, love endures, as do you
Cloaked in the heavy mood of a whisper, I am enrapture tossing myself freely to the breeze. Traveling, risking time and space; darkness proves sinister And the thought of morning a solidary tease; I am breathless… Mouthing the words 'I love you' as morning drifts in like pollution, Uninvited entering my utopian dreamscape. Permeating and clouding my vision's resolution, I drift into the desire of the day, my dreams raped; I am breathless… As if I had been running, running, running, My heart pounding to the pitter-patter of my feet. Subconsciousness, a state deliciously cunning, I am left awakened with the memory of only your heartbeat; I am breathless…
It burns and it stings. It hurts. More than drowning beneath the ice. More than remaining in a kindled flame She hits and I no longer cry. Why mother, why? It burned and it stung. The markings remained, returned, and were relived Looking, loving, and little known loathing were the known ways of living. Never was their pity for the child that cried Never was their relief for the child that tried You were that lovely bird that understood the complications of felicity Nothing looked the same in those dewy browns of yours. My everbeating would cry tears of joy. The others-they were yet to appear. Caring Mother, o' so fair You were that beautiful bird filled with care. The others came and were not alone. Their two suitors sat on the throne. Rampage and rage why did you come? I began to wither and wither slumping along. So very soon I- the child of fines- became a human raceme. The droops of the Lily of the Valley became the slumping of my heart. My lovely bird the enemy had taken you and the person you were is far from near. For that divine nature left its intricate self and you became irretrievable my big bird. All of your fairness died. With that went my pride. Mother, Mother what moved you so? Your intense spirt vanished only to supplement a monster. Mother, Monster and your tar filled lungs. How did I kill that liver that was so, so strong? The lesson of pain was one you came to learn. My darling bird why did you turn? My lovely bird and your big brown eyes I'll tell you once, but never twice. Pain is only a flower for it blooms and dies And a mistake can be killed as quickly as lice. You dear bird hurt me well. Though, haven't you heard? Weakness is a souls greatest strength. You brought me up, then you brought me down. You haved helped, hurt, and hindered my blazing spirit. A hero in my heart-I left you down in your deep black slumber. Escaping those terrible nights To go for the town of delights.
I just want to dream a little more, before the sun dries up this stream of thought; before my tongue begins to search for words faded by the choke of night. The sky screams in the hands of a harsh turn, neither of us wants our darkness unveiled. Yet, I wish the light would swallow me up as well. Instead, the broken slumber of day creeps into my bed, and shakes my tomb. I watch it stumble through the blinds, sloshing, lazily polished, and promising. Like it always does. And I try my damnedest to pull my eyes away from the hope that is stitched to my shadow, but no matter how hard I writhe in this place, I cannot escape the artificiality of this world that I can't seem to wake up from. -James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
Silver dollar orbits full, illuminates a slumbered trail. Like tidal rhythms I feel the pull. Subconsciousness now sets sail. I'm floating, flying viewing all as my mind stays on the ground. And suddenly I'm very small, no conflict can be found. The daily worries, stress and fears seem to vanish with the night. And loneliness just disappears in dreams when I take flight. yet even this nirvana state finds abrupt dissolution. Eagerly my mind awaits it's nocturnal resolution.
I stand, alone. Scratching for my truths, peeling away the veneer, I stand, alone, before this impregnable cliff so sheer. Cocooned in my solitary shell, wrenching a smile from a tear, I stand, alone, a little odd, and definitely quite queer. I stand, alone.
Avoiding me, I cannot quite seem to catch you, You slithery fiend, in decision I choose to loathe you! Fatigued as I am, I chase ever after, Be gone my tired eyes and fade into the laughter, Walking empty streets until the sun doth shine, Until clouds beckon on a ribbon of yellow line, The beauty that is doth captivate so, An enemy, my timeless foe, Never have we once been a friend, But does it not depend? I cannot survive without thee, Until my dreams invade to set me free.
Yet another dream of her (that smile, which brings such happiness to my heart) she sitting with her sisters in an idle photograph she smiling like that, arms around ones who truly love her, she so beautiful, dressed in her Thursday's best; so beautiful like that and you there in my dreams keeps me warm (and my heart sings a tone, that the birds shed a tear too) and I smile and I live and my heart flies to a place, not like this one a place where love is in charge and hate is not in the dictionary of life. Another dream of the one woman who makes me smile, yet the Gods do not let me have her; but such a woman as that is not worthy of a man like I; such a woman with such a smile as hers' deserves the best of the best, and nothing but the best for her, so as a man, I shall let go of her warm and glorious beauty and give to a lucky man and I shall not pout, nor envy him or her, for something so beautiful as love and sacrifice deserves such praise! Oh yes another dream of her, dancing with me in her evening ballroom dress, in my arms, as the smiling faces join hands with one another and watch us dance in such a lovely dream. her smile, such glory and so bright, it blocks out the rays of the powerful sun and can brighten the darkest of the Earth's four corners. another dream of her, that girl, that woman, that lady who stomped out the fire that was burning away at my angry heart, she gave faith to me, and now I give her that blessing of true love with another, for I take such notion of her being happy with another, than being with me and frowning. Sure, tears have been shed, and jealousy has killed good men's judgment, but such beauty as hers' could kill a man. Another dream of her, my portrait lady, my lovely dream girl, my friend.
What does it feel like to wake up into your skin? Your day? What do you feel first most days? Is it in any way influenced by gratitude, or totally given over to worry, anxiety about your shortness of time? Is this life the one you had in mind as a child? When did this that you do to fill your days and years become your dream? Or is it your nightmare? Or something in between? If so, which parts are closest to your dream and what were you doing and how old were you and who did you live with as this became your dream? Were these relationships good dream mentors for you? How did you get to this day, this place, this vocation? When did the nightmares start and are they something more than the fear of your own cherished dream's loss? What is that one thing that sets you apart, that is your unique character fingerprint? How is your identity unique from all other identities alive now, or in the past, or in future generations? And, if your uniqueness is no one thing, but a constellation of attributes, characteristics, dreams, fears, wisdom, aspirations, relationships, memories, then how is any one of those unique to you, and if none is, after due consideration, then how are you not part of me and all that is related to you that is also related to others that are less directly related to you, on back to the emergence of memory capacity itself? What do you imagine was that first memory? Do you think it was of longing or belonging, or somehow both, like the contentment waiting within harmonic contention, resolution waving toward our future, still waiting in noncontentious background? Is this content intuited as in-format-ionic, to know and love nature's wise re-solutions? Evolution and Revolution each grow, respectively, Yin- and Yang-tempered resolutions, optimizing balanced incoming diastolic form and outgoing memory-folded content? Really? It's that prime permaculturally balanced, optimizing enculturation's meaning by minimizing future's monoculturally rapacious dissonance? Really?
Fairies dance on clouds. Where will you find space to dance? The drama is in the action not in the verb. Go on that stage when you find it, innocently seeking. It is better not to be alone, but if you must be alone, shake the dust from your boots and dance with an imaginary fairy. Break through that dream-portal into reality and the light of dawning day. Restore from wandering as you discover the dance of flies, and the dance of shadows. The daydream depends on grains for its making. Whether the grains are of sand or of wheat, they fall alike to earth as does starlight. You must grow gossamer wings in your mind before you fly,
Time was killing you in a bus station, sitting on a rather hard bench waiting for the next escape. Then you finished your book and all you had left was to wait and wait some more. The bus was late; snow fell and black ice formed on the road, causing delays unforeseen. There was no redeeming your ticket, so you slept through the night and dreamed. A magnificent cloth was spread on the lawn of a country tavern. Everything you ever wanted to eat was there, but you had no fork and no spoon. It occurred to you that when in the East do as the east does-- eat with your fingers. And you would, but you were whisked away. Upon a mountain you witnessed a menagerie of animals crowding into a hollow log to sleep. They tossed and turned and jostled for space with animal elbows, but there was no room to spare. You wanted to give them a home near your home, but by then you have forgotten where home was. A parachute drifted down from the sky and remarkably there was a package addressed to you which contained a letter with instructions for your next dream. Then you remembered that you were hungry.
In every fraud There is a bit of the hero. So I remain lofty in my crystal tower, And the refugees take shelter In wormwood times, Thinking of the worn and weathered wishes Of dreams turned back. Placing your bet, You revolve and cast yourself naked, Witnessing the revival of your hopes. And you prepare to cut yourself From the deck into solitude, Thinking of the worn and weathered wishes Of dreams turned back. I can find no blemish In your reality, Yet your questions perish daily Like untended orchards, Thinking of the worn and weathered wishes Of dreams turned back. July 1971 Denver
A dream that dances in waves, and mirrors all you do So you dance, and hope that some day the song will come from you This dream is all that exists, and all you've ever known The song is picking up speed, so it's follow or fail alone A flame that flickers in sync with the shadows by your side The rain puts out the light, and causes you to hide This nightmare is all that exists, and all you've ever known But this song still hasn't stopped, and so you dance alone You cherish sand on the banks of a path winding through a storm This desert trail is all that you see; too blinding to look beyond This path is all that exists, and the only way to go Holding close the sand as you sing, just so you're not alone The sand is part of the storm that makes you close your eyes But now the wind starts to slow, and the scenery makes you cry This life is all that exists, and the only way to go The sand falls through your hands, and you carry on alone A love that blooms into being beneath the darkest skies Is a life that will venture out despite the lonely nights So scared, but so unafraid to find what you need to be Despite the fear that prevails, and tells you what to see The flames steady and still, and a shadow kneeling down The rain cleansing your heart as all your fears drown The sand creating a path, and shielding you from pain And now, with the wind at your back, you remember why you came To dream a light shining out for all the world to see To be more than you think, and beyond all that will be To create a desire to be the creators of our dreams To become the mirror of self, and reflect our unity
SURVIVOR, I WILL BE Stripped me down from my clothes.. Yell at me until your throat get sore.. Speak to me with vile words.. Walk and talk to me like I am nothing... Yes, It will hurt and pain me.. Probably, It may even make me cry.. Probably, It make me even on bended knees.. Probably, It will cause me loss of appetite and sleeplessness.. But, tell you what.... You can never take what I have.. You can never shove off that smile... You can never erase the overwhelming love that's within me... You can never make me fall... I will rise up: " humbled not proud" I will stand up: "learned not ignorant".. I will smile even with tears: "joys not of hurts" I will shout: "victory not of failures"... By: olive_eloi 10/01/2013 1:08am ---------------
Those Distant African Nights... 1. The shadows swayed in your candlelit room, a cool breeze teasing your bare back, streaks of lightning forked in the Johannesburg night, as my hands stroked your hair, kissing your soft mouth, holding you, ever so tight. 2. You whispered that you loved me, and I kept silent, the rain fell, shadows danced, thunder rolled, the breeze teased your naked back, you whispered that you loved me, as my lips found yours, the rain washed over our tender nights, lightning and candlelight, etching poems on your burnished skin, yet, a fear gnawed at me, deep within. 3. We parted ways, and you could never forgive me, you said, now, after numberless thunderstorms, the rain that falls, echo the countless tears that I have shed. 4. You are long gone, far away, happy, I pray, yet the memories persist, those precious moments shall never, ever, like the Jo'burg rains, trickle away, and I wish you well, for loving me as you did, for it was I who was not worthy, then, and it is I who is not worthy, now... 5. You were always true, it was I who always, always, refused to, to give myself, completely to you.
CHAPTER 1 Broken glass, shattered dreams, aching hearts- bleeding the memories of yesterday Fading hope, faded conviction; where do I go to bury you and put the dream of us away? To preserve it forever I'll put it to rest in c chamber of my soul, I will carry you in my heart This way, my love, you're forever mine, breathing you even though we are worlds apart CHAPTER 2 Our song, romancing the moon and the summer breeze The words I'll be seeing you put my mind at ease Oh God! Yet, I have burned it all, the bridges crossing to you my dear I have tainted our love and demolished your heart of gold I fear Ironically, it all came crashing down on your day of love Sir Valentine Picture of destruction, sex, drugs and fake friendships intertwine I will never insult you by trying to say I'm sorry, for it won't do There's nothing I can even dream of that will ever make it up to you That's is why I'll rather suffocate in my pain, take the punishment and protect you from me You think you want this, but I destroy everything I touch, trust me part of my life you don't want to be HELL My deepest desire is to go back and find you, but I don't know where I let go I don't know what possessed me, how did you later become my foe I've lost my mind more that I've realized, condemning us to hell Sickening memories, pathetic choices and a heartbreaking story to tell Pieces if of me, all I have left is my blackened heart and tears If I forgive myself, will you leave my dreams – these are my fears I year ago, to the night, I was almost conquered by the bear The nightmare didn't end there, I still carry you – life isn't fair AUTUMN The days are turning colder, the warmth of the sun is fading away An ironic metaphor of how we use to be, oh God how I wish it'll be okay I miss you, but I will always be looking for something more More ambition, confidence, initiative – always being something that I'm punishing you for God knows I want to be with you, but I will destroy You loyal, passionate and unconditional love give boy
Each morning, a white symphony wakes up the same melancholy, Cold sun and the white which will burn… Dreams and the dust filling the urn From the back of the time`s pony Each morning, a white symphony; The wind`s instruments by the sea; Violins on sky`s balcony; All seasons`tribute in advance: Winter with its full dress entrance; Each morning, a white symphony; Hearts`s piano found harmony. Hope established its colony; Kids with carols and happy eyes. Soon, they make a palace from ice. Each morning,a white symphony.
A Chipped Heart... Dreaming, my heart brittle as glass, my solitary facade a pitiful farce, shards tearing out of my skin, seeking release, from cages within, I am lost, in the dream, bellowing out a silent scream, torn from reality, drowning in the now, yet I refuse, I refuse to succumb, I refuse to bow. My chipped heart, may be wounded, wreathed in pain, still, I believe, love, truth, belonging, will take my hand, again...
Lenni-Lenape smokes still climb Appalachians To dream the Passaic`s Great Falls, the banks Delaware,Hudson, and Long Island Sound`s echo.
MLK... (January 15, 1929 – April 4, 1968) they shot you down all those years ago but your dream lives on and always will for though much has been gained since you dreamed your dream there is much to fight for and much more to struggle for and much, much more to fight for still so your dream resounds in our hearts and we pledge this to you today for though they shot you down all those years ago on a memphis day we shall overcome this we do believe deep in our hearts that we shall overcome someday... (for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.)
His fingers left blood on the strings but, come time to walk away he hadn't really learned anything. Course and dried brushes sit atop the rubbish, His mind held a perfection too delicate for his clumsy hands to create. He opened his mouth to sing like a jay but, instead of notes it was rust that fell out. Part of the wear and tear of early adulthood. But then, this same boy picked up a pen and found some paper. The pen in his hand felt as natural his own bones and he began to write. He wrote every tear He scribed every star He built towers from mountains with every line High enough that the angel's just might hear them. He made pages for chapters of his life that could make those seraphim weep sapphire tears. He could write the wind blowing across the nape of your neck in Autumn And make you feel the chill on your skin. He could articulate the sad beauty of a lover's quarrel that ends in tears If they cry, it makes it all more real. He documents the history of a war inside himself that will never end. The loss and the gain, But not those of monetary nature. When life begins to scream around him All he must do to silence it is to put it in a stanza. The boy's tongue can pave the way for good intentions, and we all know those can fall South. He finds strength. And with this Strength a power. Finally the boy knew his gift. But how is he meant to use it and who will truly listen to the personal strands of his soul he ties together with punctuation? And now that he has tasted the pleasure of his power, will that be enough?
Wake from the dream With it's crumbling buildings Wallpaper paint chips curled down When a corpse falls in the gutter Do I scream DO I SCREAM And make them topple Or walk onwards And with a trendy drink Sip the heart slowly With your trendy friends And trends fade Do I tell them DO I TELL THEM Fade backwards into the mass To tell apathy apart from fear Speak out get out die out Extinction is a peaceful sleep Cutting through the noise pollution There's nothing to say THERE'S NOTHING TO SAY No chance for growth When lives hang in the balance For pretty smiles Harsh words for reality Step into the haze Ignore it IGNORE IT
She She smiled, gently, her warmth infusing me, with a serene stillness of time. She settled, slowly, in my waking thoughts, a soothing balm of simple joy. She remains, scribbled, on the walls of my fractured heart, memories of happiness that once breathed...
Within Me Flowing through the rivulets of my everyday thoughts, memories of you surface, gasping for air, breathing in, permeating, absorbed by the pores of my ageing skin. Famished, greedily gulping mouthfuls of fractured life, awash in distant yesteryear, when your feathery kisses, banished the vacuum, dispelling my anguish and strife. You are eternally carved, and embroidered into my soul, I wash ashore, smashing against the boulders of the now, seeking solace, begging for absolution with my empty bowl. The book of fate is sealed shut, the tea-leaves have been read, nothing remains within me, the burden of smiling has been shed. Now I am stranded, between dreams and the empty years ahead, searching for forgiveness, in the miles I have yet to wearily tread.
Passion in D-Major Feeling, the sensuous brush- strokes on a canvas, swirling, to a symphonic crescendo, of our shared heartbeats, fading between the notes, feeling your soft body entwined with mine, your form bathed in my infinite kisses, our orchestral desire rising, conducting a shared fusing of passion, ... the music echoing ... over the precipice, on the brink of dazzling rainbow hues, lost in the void, of an eternal instant, plunging through the depths of rhyme, pleading, forever pleading, for a prolonged, bouquet of shared time.
The sky danced a glimmer of setted sun blue Softly through into the night Like rafters keeping us safe on our path under heaven Trees wove themselves over us Breathing light from coals washed the five gathered faces Flickered in their eyes and over their bodies In the quiet I saw In the south like the waves from beneath the sea One spirit shone with a shimmering breath And another in the west settled on the rafters there With a sighing light barely seen and hardly felt Amid the rafters of the north one other spirit swayed There too an ethereal visitor echoed in the east In the quiet I saw Faces bright, strong and painted with a wash of . . . Contentment, save two, both fallen of crest And still under the watchful eyes of Nokomis high in the skies One rose to smile holding a light before him closely But woe fell across the other for being there within already As if unable to escape for eyes unseeing In the quiet I saw I watched a struggle between three spirit cousins Over and all around they fought where he had fallen So vicious this fight, it cast a shrouding over everything of him For these two beasts snarled and slashed for dominance While the third sat quietly as if waiting or perhaps just watching With great patience for one to fall and it too was evil In the quiet I saw The sky shone softly in the ambient light of stars unglimpsed For Nokomis with her watching eyes held us As only grandmothers do for having loved and loved her child's children too All through the night she held us as we sailed without a sound Across and over the blue of setted sun somewhere next to here With the warmth of coals burning nowhere save inside In the quiet I saw In the quiet I saw five souls glimmering In the quiet I saw a war cross one red road In the quiet I saw the spirits of four ancestors In the quiet I saw everything, nothing all that I needed In the darkness of the madodoswun it is dark as pitch And still, and yet . . . Before the door whispered to open I saw in the quiet still
Love jumped up one afternoon and as I sat reading a book, she kicking my door in and took me in a dream wonderland full of surreal life, and Salvador Dali was there, painting and Picasso sat smoking a cigarette, and thumbing his nose at Dali, but Dali smiled and kissed his feet. Love tugged me by the hand, as an impatient mother would do to her child in a candy shop. She showed me a cloud, and on that cloud was the twenty-seven club smoking weed and drinking whiskey and playing music, Jimi Hendrix playing his fender Stratocaster with his teeth, Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin singing away to a blues tone, Kurt Cobain and Robert Johnson were no where in sight though! And I sat with them and I talked with them and I played with them and I sang with them, and they loved me, and we were happy, and Love pulled me again and she kissed me on the lips, and showed me three people who had broken my heart, and they were dressed in grey and frowning, I did not laugh and I did not cry, I just stood and stared (they were ashamed to look at me,) Love pulled me into her own little place, on her own little cloud, I sat on a throne decorated with gems and rubies and their sat a table full of food and drink and Love came close to me and fed me and cuddled on me and kissed me and made me feel safe and secure. She was a beautiful goddess, that Love girl. She smiled and it made my heart jump and skip and she held me close and there I trusted her and trust I did to her. I closed my eyes and I feel asleep and dreamed about anything that I wanted to. Dream after dream of beautiful and glamorous things that made my head spin! Love was by my side the whole night and day, and there she was every single day, in what felt to be May and she sang a song; that made me dance and kiss her more and more. That day Love jumped up and kicked in my door, was the best thing that ever occurred to me. .1.24.2014.
Black death Death lives, tangled in the forest of darkness. The black bloodhound stalks the beasts in your dreaming. The sun will be sucked from your sight to blind you to the truth. When evening retreats to darkness beware of the ghosts of fear. Sleep in the wilderness of terror that haunts your forsaken ground. The coming of morning's spears will stab your eyes with golden light. The high sun of noon will fill your dark soul with life.
Trapped. No where to hide.You scream at me through the door.Though your words still sting me. I sit on the ground alone.Blood drips down like tears. tears run down like rain.The room's spinning. My heart bursts out of my clothes.We got into a fight. Why is unclear. I tried to leave. You hit me. I fell.I started to cry. You kicked me.A sharp pain burst out of my chest. I could not breath. I have little energy,I kicked you. You fell. I ran to our bedroom. I am trapped. No where to hide.I'm weak. I stumble to your Night stand.I see a gun.You break down the door. I grab the gun.You start to choke me, squeezing my throat like you were trying to get some sort of juice out of me. I pull the trigger. BANG!Trapped. No where to hide.Your grip feels looser. Your face in pain. You fall down. i fall into darkness.Free. No need to hide.
pleasure leaks as your sweet harmony joins my vicious endeavors, a new genre for your love streams, my manhood elevates your passion capturing your emotions' allow me to bury my transgressions please rescue me from my intentions. purify my soul open my eyes to a love untold', conquer my heartbreak align my romance with the deepest parts of your fears, catapult my ambitions unmask my ignorance sweet dear for the sweet edge of my sword of bravery admires my prideful gain.
Somewhere between waking and sleep I call forth demons. They are not devils, malicious, only demons of my imagination, feisty demons. They hunt frogs at night and sleep under toadstools by day. They tell me secrets-- forbidden truths. A certain guilt comes my way. Some thing are better left unsaid in the orange colored half-light of evening. And novels tragically foretold. And Africa windswept, meerkats eating oranges. Do not call me while I am deaf. If judging as a Hallmark card, delete comments: delete, delete.
Port of Call Barefoot on a talcum beach, alone, not lonely, with the breath of the ocean a caressing balm, soothing pained memories away, to the swaying of a solitary palm. Barefoot on a talcum beach, alone, not lonely, feeling the brushing away of all past turmoil, on a quest for solace, ever so hard to find, yet comforted by the crashing of the waves, as the tide cleanses all pain, and leaves despair far, far behind. Barefoot on a talcum beach, alone, not lonely, drenched in a sea-breeze of mist, that hushes the ache of bygone moons, tasting the salty tang on my lips, as the burnished sun, over the distant horizon, swoons, and dips. Barefoot on a talcum beach, alone, not lonely, searching, ever searching, for a slice of solitude, as memory bids a final adieu, reaching under the sea so vast, and seeking comfort in the depths, while embracing, the tomorrows to come, wishing that they be true. Barefoot on a talcum beach, alone, not lonely, seeing my truths drown, as they slip beneath the turquoise waters, feeling my heart ablaze, with a passion that rarely falters. Barefoot on a talcum beach, alone, not lonely, yet knowing that I am home at long last, wishing the waves would wash away, the defences that once stood, like an impregnable wall. Barefoot on a talcum beach, alone, not lonely, I have found, at long last, my final port of call.
My curse flys with the vulture who has never learned to die My blood runs in the water that reflects the bleeding sky My soul hides in the shadows that dance with fire Forever Forever leaving footprints in the sand that lead to the moon Or Armageddon Footprints of fatigue putrid with deception or fleeting hope... proud in the exhausted moonlight
Ramblin' Bob Dylan Blues (For Bob Dylan) Why does the sun dry up so many scattered tears slipping down the coarse cheek of a million hushed fears where no one is scalded though the searing fog clears while prayers are mutely spoken even as the end nears We shatter and scrape on demented knees Blindly begging for mercy as it silently flees Searching listlessly for salvation drowned in the breeze That spits at the soft rose suffocated by a wheeze I know now what I need never have known Of hope that was trampled before it had flown Into a wasted sky filled with hate that could drown The giggling of the crowd and the crying of the clown A hope so fragile that its wings were of brittle glass Ripping the veneer off the sewers of class Twisting the fabric of the weighed and costed mass Who numbly waited hoping that it too may pass For when shards of that hope in all hearts scurries away To a darkness where crowded night is emptied off the heaving tray 'Tis then when sewn eyes shall behold that doleful day When all shall tear at each other while on demented knees we still shall pray For a lifting of the veil of that wilful deceit That's wrapped up in a flag swollen with conceit While the limbs splinter in the claw of a winner's defeat Yet still the drums roll for the ill-fated souls chose never to retreat From that drenched battle-ground where blood flows through a sieve And love's lost song plaintively begs for a reprieve From eternal loss which into raw emotion does cleave Only to slip through the fingers and like grains of sand, leave.
Saturday Rain in Johannesburg… …With sighs of torrential passion, the heavens shower teardrops, weeping with me, as memories of you come cascading back, skin on skin, ablaze, moist kisses, fiery, gentle whispers of undying love, murmured, in another life, another time, far removed from my present, a desolate state of despair, wallowing in the grime. … The rain keeps falling, each teardrop stinging my face, tasting the salt on my lips, I wonder, do you still remember the caresses of my fingertips, between breathy confessions, and vows of eternal love, before you left me, stranded on an island of solitude, wounded as a wingless dove, bereft of life, stripped of all traces of fortitude
Now tethered to a lonely space A place without a warm embrace T'is hard to break the ties that bind The rope that hope could ne'er unwind To want that love once unconfined Could sail to Rome, or Greece, or Thrace. Was want that placed within this vase The scent of rose so to efface Mournful song of nightingale A blushed cheek song behind red veil Now tethered to a lonely space Where thorn once pricked now left no trace Wrapped now in sails by lover's grace For stars aligned and wind behind To break the tether in my mind Dreams not tethered to lonely space. 4/4/14
Fireworks slide down the back of my tongue Some went north to imitate stars, knowing all to well they wouldn't even make it to the stratosphere A fire can't breathe with no air Ask that man in the alley why he has to shoot black skies into his veins to see them. You probably have more in common than you might think. Satellite transmissions making waves like the oceans they cover Healthy food is expensive, while poison is damn near free! There is a storm coming Grab your blankets and I will tell you how it ends with a new beginning.
The mind's a churning landfill, And heart's living roadkill. I know you'll discard much more than you keep. But you know that I Dream, much more than I sleep.
Some metallic beating of a Drum like heavy rainfall resonated through the night as the wind swept through the trees and across the somber ponds of The West. Some nights: these nights—fireflies are the sparkling blue-green dots scattered across an aloof sky. And how the onlookers stare dumbly at the Horizon and the clouds! Evanescent, blue…dark shades cover a bush and how the stars are Climbing (!) the black cloth of night like spiders, Oh! the inherent beauty of the world? And the iridescent flowers are laid dead over the infinite fields. Some metallic beating of a Drum like ponderous footsteps circling a room fills the gracious day. The sun with her full smile sends streams of gold and orange to sneak through the crevices of the cracked ceiling of the abandoned theater to illuminate the dust. Random in their intent and brutal in their delivery, the messages of light assuage the gentle Earth She hands over her key… Such madness! Madness! Pools of water scattered across the open fields; coquettish waves undulate under the gale. Such madness! Madness! The ethereal beats of the Drum like stolen heartbeats boom! Boom! Boom! Such madness! Madness! And maybe the Lady can answer such idling question as to why the cacophony: "And could you tell us of the day you found this disorder dancing like daft Pagans?" And she says: "No, for the beauty of absurdity is that the very idea of order contradicts its existence" Hypnotic chanting: Chaos makes order chaos makes order chaos makes order… Some metallic beating of a Drum like a steel box in the bosom of Space It spins like the burning Earth on a bender Oh, the cacophony! Oh, the madness! Such Madness…
You'll cry a pond or the ocean, but who will care? The one and only, plucky motion I should've dare. It's really hard to recover from the fever. 'In any case don't let it govern the gravity lever!' I'd been taught. It all ended in conflagration. Beside the grave knees were bended in consolation. I should've learnt: what's born in flames and fireworks - a deadly curse, poisoned thorn, epitaph of forewords. But noone care, except, maybe, hysteric loner, who'd lost the key for the abbey inside the manor belonged to misery and tears, steady dejection. I'm glad to face only peers in foes' reflection. I'm glad to thank you for Nothing which can't be bare, for that thrown rocks which had roughen mine soft nightmare. I'm glad to say, lucky you, I'll overcome this.. Although, you know, to tell the truth, I hope, I won't miss this perfect script in the clouds, swing in the garden... I want to say, at least, wanted... I beg you pardon. { I love you. Pardon. } 18.03.2013 NikA
Sometimes I forget that I'm holding my breath, the reason why; until I begin to suffocate. My chest begins to burn, my vision un-tethered to the spectrum slung toward it. All I can see is a silhouette. It looks like you walking through the door; holding everything you took with you that night when you said you had to go, but would never forget the beat of my heart. You're holding it in your hands. It's writhing, and fighting to get loose; but your nails dig in until blood spatters its way out of my mouth. "I'm back." you say. And I gasp, taking in the violent rush of air, that I had forgotten was there. …now, unbridled and erratic, unable to cope with your form. I never thought I'd see you again. But there you are. Standing in the doorway. Ready to finish it. -James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
Lay down beside me Let's break these picture frames and roll around in the glass until our bodies are as bloody as our history We'll burn our souls inside the knots of your bedpost and sing our burdens away until they become candle lit shadows Lay down beside me in this bed of depression- springs our Resurrection We'll make our screams become Gods and chase the sun out of the sky so the only light I can see is the cherry of your cigarette burning straight into me You were always so much more dazzling in the darkness And I need someone to tell me whose blood this really is. Lay down beside me -James Kelley 2015, All rights reserved.
This facade that we build around our bones; this walking dream Shouldn't be any different, than what we keep in the night, where the stars burn as freely as our hearts. I say we stoke the fire, throw it all in. Watch the sand turn to glass, peel the skin back swallow the marrow of promise. Let the light reflect. -James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.
My reflection, Drenched in red, Is an illusion, In my head? Could this be real Or just a trick, Blood makes the floors, Really slick, So if I trip, And hit the glass, The stain will smear, As my fingers pass, A bloody mess, Is what this is, But no one can hear me, Ask what gives?
I am young and travelling my life is unraveling as a teenager I dreamed this day would happen not on the safe side I dwell as the danger unfolds forward I propel I coming out of my shell extreme is not the word crazy sounds to absurd this beats the life of a nerd this excel the master degree of a jock "daddy is going to buy you a mocking bird" who am I kidding my parents were never there just mama the only one who ever cared it is all I ever have a personality flaw my heart in a chest of drawers this how I extend towards an inconvenient cause ain't no love lost ain't no sunshine when its on
Be your lifes' grateful Master, Nourish a fluffy cluster. Day by day and drop by drop You'll receive a cosy crop. Let a pioneering thaw Be your mentalitys' law. Let your belief, passion and zeal Be your motivating meal. Have inside yourself a spark Even when it's cold and dark, Always have a stoic zeal, Don't let anything it kill.
Being Near It is impossible to say what Feeling is Stronger Attraction Nervousness Paranoia Or just wanting to wrap thou in an embrace for all the comfort that wants to be shown unto thee This meager attraction that has sprouted dwindles by what you see in another This case seems to be always present throughout these experiences A sheer passing of Anxiety courses through when near this conduit of feeling Of course, even at the Genesis of these feelings it was known what they were Now, it just grows and threatens to burst at the seams Ever expanding with every passing memory, Every possible moment that could take place between the two Every Glance in this dangerous direction The Memories How they haunt and stretch the Hopeful side Leading to a fantasy that cannot take root in reality Even if the seed has been planted The Watering will never occur by both In the same degree, The Paranoia is perhaps a more pressing matter Leaving this dreamer to wonder if their feelings are right in their place Or just a calamity that is sure to follow these rushing tides of sensations When your eyes are averted in a more hopeful and dreamy direction When a more realistic approach is so near Alas, I find myself in a pattern Something that has become most vexing This newfound desire seems much more realistic than the last few Although, saying that fuels a Hope that should not have, perhaps, ever been allowed to be conceived However, With the progression of things these past few moons That possibility of Hope growing is Becoming More And More Inevitable With it, comes an even greater chance of Despair That has ever been known By this poor stricken soul... Constructive Criticism is welcomed for this, as well as suggestions that might want to be made. Please and thank you!(:
There's a moment when, crossing between two streetlamps, a double shadow appears, arching from your fears, a body projected through years onto cracked concrete. So, stopping, you watch it split in separate directions, no fixed perfections, all later corrections point from now dividing as forces pull one into two, coloured red or blue at different ends of the spectrum, matter is best left some space, life isn't a race in the traditional sense, but against the perception of yourself. Worrying is bad for your health, because as much as television may scream in your ear, grinding each individual gear, you need not wealth, but a hand to pick you up and dust you off when you fall, no problem at all, giving pats on the back, setting the wheels back on the track, in motion again you walk on from staring at your shadow, standing won't help you grow. And I know it says not to walk towards the light, but this time it's alright, because looking back won't help either. As a fighter, neither Rocky nor Rambo, you face the night ahead, spit to clear your mouth of lead, and strut on son, because you are only born once, and you only die once, but it's what you do between the two that makes you awesome.
Ludwig & Vincent... 'They said that you were mad, Vincent', whispered Ludwig to a silent Vincent. 'I still am, quite insane', replied Vincent, 'but you, dear Ludwig, you were deaf, and mad, I hear'. 'I listened with my soul, Vincent, I heard it all without hearing a sound. Yes, mad and deaf indeed I too, still am', Ludwig said, smiling at Vincent. 'just look at them now', Vincent replied, smiling with Ludwig, 'look at them now, as they hawk sunflowers, blissfully oblivious of exquisite starry nights'. 'yes', smiled Ludwig, 'look at them now, they crave joy, yet they cannot hear an ode, dear Vincent, they cannot hear it! They do not care enough to hear'. 'Yes, dear Ludwig', Vincent sighed, 'they do not care enough to hear'. Ludwig and Vincent smiled, each tugging an ear.
Every night before bed, she sets her heart on fire. Letting all her love cauterize, clotting the flow of her need. She would rather be infected by pain than play the same monotonous game with a boy that can't help but pour gasoline on her wounds. The burn; A reminder that he was there. She'll never forget his kiss, because there are scars imprinted on her cheeks that speak of nights drenched in miserable unity. They fed off each other's complacency. Drank each other's naivety and laid in a bed of neglect. Hoping for someone to pull up the sheets, so they could sleep and dream of love. The way it's supposed to be. -James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved
Walk with me, in this lonely world, where hearts are casually broken, and kind words rarely spoken. Take my hand, on this highway of brittle glass, where love is traded like blue-chip shares, and bank-balances are coveted as priceless wares. Smile with me, as we walk hand in hand, as the ocean tickles our toes on the cool beach sand. Smile with me, and I shall smile too, we may not have much, but you will have all of me, and I will have all of you.
They Do Not See Me at All they do not see me at all... as I walk through these desecrated avenues of soul-deadening frenzy I see them all rushing past me and no matter how hard I try to holler and to call they do not see me at all it seems at times, that invisible am I for when I reach out, and shriek out, and when on my knees I crawl they rush past me for they do not see me at all I have tried to raise their ire, I have taunted and goaded them, till exhausted and fatigued, to the cold damp ground I fall still they rush past me for they do not see me at all I stand mutely then and wave my hands all around while scribbling verses in my unintelligible scrawl and yet they rush past me for they do not see me at all they rush past me, knocking me over without ever looking back and then trampling over my fallen form, they look past my limp crumpled shadow, as they whine on in their monotonous drawl for they do not see me at all and when at last I see them look my way, and as a flicker of recognition crosses their faces I wish to crawl back into my nothingness where they cannot see me at all
But you cant keep this book intact its not allowed your soul will not bear it do you keep all the prophecies to be a part of the truth do you tear out the love and find just the directions to eternal youth\ do you keep the satanic metaphors to reveal the author had a horrible soul this test upon humanity is sitting by the riverside Love for sale in western mail Love for sale in western mail Watching it all go down is given to every woman child mother father adult and then you create how its passed down to the future but its never whole one day I will write this book and you will all dream Pushing the limits So many nights crying The limits that limits that change About its entirety go from house to house to read the book with pages missing to compare it to yours to fathom family legacies and opinions Born to please to try to understand the truth of oppression and decisions and accuracy and creativity and in this book I will write stories and I will write traditions and I will write games and I will write sanities and insanities but what you keep and what you throw away stay away from the river man The water is cold Don't ever set me free Born to dream Of those days of warm rays No one has a clue You're safe when they hear me But they're gonna clue in When they see the sneak They clueing in All their strength not to fall apart Satellite secret moments shadowed in the heat of the afternoon To the holiday They will always want by their side they're cluing into the bird lady Doing things my way they're cluing in to little miss daisy is another test another dream another curse another prayer of metaphor another chain of soft spoken words to never have answered something this generation had that memory can only answer and the death wish of not cooperating leave you upon a grave of cand'lit flames and hells passed on to legacies of hell the arch angels tell you to tear down walls to cripple you all Everywhere Everything blue eyes Unbelievable ways Sky of white stars exotic Magical times Broken faith makes me your new book of god And I'm running out of here Or no way at all Running out of here BROKEN FAITH makes me YOUR NEW BOOK OF GOD And I'm running out of here And I'm running out of here Come to the reason You really got me I wasn't fake come to the light back to the middle
i once almost killed a man with egos bare hands, fortunate irregular heart murmurs and force fed blessings saved us both - i once tried it all because i couldn't bear to fall, i couldn't hold on to the broken home smiles in which i'd crawl - i once drew a portrait kept beneath lock and key, knowing all along anyone could see it was me, peering out hearts cavity - i once smiled to myself and had to look and see if i was alone, truth is rare and these moments i am prone - i once felt the sun upon my skin and realized my love is not my friend, a sinking swirling hurt dancing in the wind - i once made a human contribution to a drama filled production, accusations worn like an emperor who had no clothes - i once saw inspiration in a rock, how could i possibly know for sure it's message was clear, to run not walk - i once came upon a carefully laid trap, there was a gap in my hesitation and soon i was singing rages favorite childhood song - i once met a homeless man wavy hair and suspenders, he said god held his hand, and that he'd never said it'd be easy - -
I never planned on letting you back into my life but last night after I drank enough black label to float my scars and let my eyes swim back into delusion you kicked in the door to my apartment with your new boyfriend that tweaker you shacked up with when I left you I don't know what you two were looking for but you found me with my roommate playing Russian roulette with a saw with a diamond tipped chain and just enough gas to crank He was about to put it to my neck and pull the chord when the door flew off the hinges I heard you scream and I smiled Thankful that I could scare someone else as much as I scare myself -James Kelley 2015, All rights reserved.