Have some poetry. I'm just going to use this as a dump for my stuff. If you have something you'd like to share, please do. I love reading and critiquing (unless you'd rather I just read it, which is fine) other people's works.
Stepping On Sand Castles
It was sunlight, I see
In retrospect, it all becomes clear
I saw your face in the light they sent to carry you to me
I held your image in my mind as I walked through the years
I hold your hand now, shaking like a fragile wing
Wondering when you'll take flight
It's like pulling teeth
Bury me six feet below the threshold of caring for you anymore
What tiny victory I have feels like I found it on the floor
You're here with me in memory, but not in reality
Where your physical form should be, there's only glass and tragedy
Bury me under the sand that we made
Our empire fell
I saw your face in light, but it was darkness masquerading
I'm so sorry for everything I never did see
And for everything I'll never be
And for everything you never were for me
For the Moment? Renaissance!
I wish it were happening now
The whistling and inevitable crashing
Like thunder and lightning!
I want to see the sky full of lights
I want to watch the world burn
And then the calm would sweep over
Silence would fall
And in the quiet – shh! There
Under the rubble – like an empire of dust and stone – they would scrabble
Like roaches under a bright light
Only a degree less shameful
But a degree better than before
And the fire would cease to burn
And the noises would return
And life would install itself into the deepest reaches of loneliness
I wish it were happening now
Not Losing To The Rain
If the breezes blew away the sunlight and the scenery around us changed from dreams to nightmares, I'd still be there holding your hand
This is what friends do, I'm told
I'm told to let it go and not be defeated
I'll hold you up underneath our rainclouds
I'll hold you up if you'll hold me
In the grasses of the summertime, dandelions carried our hopes on
Onward to a new tomorrow, where dawn is breaking with the sorrow
Those dreams land in a field and grow the future
At least that's what we've been told
And if it isn't true, well, that's okay
We'll make ourselves invincible someday
Sit beside me on the piano bench
I want to watch your fingers dance like they used to
And take us back to the promises of a lifetime ago, when we were young and we didn't know
How love could make you cry, and it was good even though we hurt each other more than we'd ever wanted to
I know that if I stand at the entrance to a long, dark hallway, you'll be there, the light that guides the way
Let's sing about tomorrow
Let's sing about things we don't yet understand
Because one day
Oh, one day, we will
Sit beside me on the piano bench
I want to watch your fingers dance like they used to
I want to see that they still do
We were driving back home and I saw a footpath leading off into the trees. I wasn't the one driving, so my mind was free to wander. When I got to the house and realized I hadn't written anything in a few days, I decided to open up a Word document. This sort of spilled out as I thought about that footpath.
Line upon endless line of trees
Stalwart soldiers of verdure
Licking asphalt hopelessly in idleness
They line my path and I use them to mark my progression
A village path, populated by pregnant sounds of nature
The buzz of existences separate from my own
I feel them in every bit of my world
Gravel crunching beneath my feet
Nature-made, man-trodden
I breathe the worth of the world
I breathe the atoms in the arguments
I love endlessly this path that leads on into the winding green
The sun lowers its eyes over the mountain
All is darker than dark and unseen in a moment
My feet know the way
This path I’ve never walked is like home to my body
And I take it fearlessly, unfazed by the solitude
Onward, moon and celestial sisters overhead
A single insect lets out a melancholic wail
It misses the daylight, though its hunts are at night
I want to laugh
I am separate from the nature that I am bound to
The rough edge of a rock grazes my leg
A wound, a reminder of the cold and the harshness
I cannot sit down and I cannot rest
I must go on
Wrapped in stars, my eyes perceive a stretching tree
Its gnarled arms reach upward toward the heavens
Its dead roots reach downward toward white and silence
I thought desirous foolishness was man’s alone
I round a bend in the path; my grip on the earth releases and I fall
A painful slide toward the bottom of a dirt mound
I stand and shake off the hurt
The residual bog from a raging thunderstorm sits in wait
It throws a confused frog my way
How did you get so far from home?
And where is home?
I overtake the water
I do not shield my feet
I do not waste an experience
The dirt path turns slowly to stony plates as I progress
There is definite evidence of human traversal
I am not yet alone on my road
There are phantom feet beside me, guiding me on
I see a break in the path and pause
My feet remember the sensation of endless movement
They wait impatiently for me to move again
On through the trees, the sounds of life from the city long since inaudible
I press my hand against the side of a stone
Its base embedded in the ground
I feel suddenly as though I am caressing the whole world
One simplified motion
I pull away and move on
There is not time for distraction
I must reach the end of this path
My heartbeat races as the dawn begins to suggest itself on the horizon
I feel as though, if the sun rises, I will have lost this battle
I must find it
My feet begin to beat out a quicker tempo
I am running
I do not remember beginning to run
If I can only reach it
If I can only see the end of this path
My feet stutter to a halt and my mouth opens in silent shock
The sun casts its radiance down before me
Breaking through spires on the mountains to reach this spot
I smile
Before me, there is only a stone
The path ends here
I walk forward very slowly, reverently
The stone has words on its ravaged face
┌ I took the path most traveled by, and it led me nowhere.
But I believe I found my heart along this road. ┘
Wrote this one a little while back when I was in one of those self-loathing moods that some artists occasionally fall into. I'm not sure if it makes sense, but part of the fun of literature is interpretation.
I took in a thousand banal words today
and digested them with logic.
I picked at them until I couldn’t take any more.
I set the plate aside.
They are the proteins, the grains, the necessary fats.
They are the training wheels removed, allowing for failure, but building balance if success is achieved.
I took my time chewing, and when I was full, I stood,
ready to be freed from them until next I need their nourishment.
My body cannot thrive without them.
My mind cannot endure.
Measure my growth in smiles and a nervous habit of crossing my arms.
See that I am becoming an adult.
Aren’t I?
Aren’t I?
I took in a thousand banal words today
and digested them with passion.
I kept going when I was full, gorging myself on hatred until I burst.
Posted 07-17-201211:31 AM 🖉
#2
Trisphee
