Don't forget to number your posts... and have fun!
Don't forget to number your posts... and have fun!
Good way to shake off some rust,
Day 1
Stars stagnate in nights unmade bed,
I believe.
Smoke signals;
you are here in nicotine form,
not once, yet
twice rubbed out.
Wail pollution to the skyline
you, black dress and star sapphire.
Text's and "x x" on the phone;
Dial tone,
ends, like a cry
in the cyclone.
Matrimony, happiness, eternity;
Still where it was when you were
where I am.
never thought you'd miss the blueprints in my eyes.
s c y t s o p h r e n i a
Eerie how fitting this is for me tonight.
You opened this up with such a lovely image. And I felt the ending tied nicely into where you began... the stars, unchanging in the sky remaining as a constant in the same way the feelings endure.
Much enjoyed.
Thanks for joining the challenge!
ArtificialIntelligence
TNL
ps... abi punchlines are played
This was very different. But as I recall you have an extremely unique style of writing but I really like it. A solid piece that anyone can relate to. You grabbed my attention with the first line and kept it throughout, there were many layers to this piece and that's what kept it interesting.
Thanks for the read.
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the theory of cause and effect is flawed,
we expect the outcome to mirror the struggle, that's wrong.
Day 2
Oscar Wilde's theory
conceived;
You/Me joined as one.
Rewinding time,
so we can enjoy sublimity;
- holding conversation
at one side
of this mountain.
I shall embrace you,
holding me up on stills
at the highest point
of my life.
What goes up, comes down;
I am floating on air,
so you will be ok tonight.
Me/You
you brood, I answer
and everything you recite,
I deify.
Because there are words,
I say,
love me.
never thought you'd miss the blueprints in my eyes.
s c y t s o p h r e n i a
Day 3
04/03/2011.
the day you passed.
I cannot dismiss how you acted
when you knew what was done by you.
Your gift's to me;
Smashed helicopters,
in bits like the memories of us.
We disagreed;
my uncle hitting my mum
you stood by,
and I did not stand for it.
That day, the person you were
hit home.
I am rid of you 'Nana'
These words were for you mum.
(sorry if this piece isn't all it should be, it was a case of my getting these feels out asap)
never thought you'd miss the blueprints in my eyes.
s c y t s o p h r e n i a
Day 4
Lay hands on a chest that beats for you.
You are nervous, like I
an as sweat seeps from skin;
I am clean.
Eight hours ago
- Midnight cried out out,
bells flayed the air, a toxin
infecting me
with novel intimacy.
It's infectious, the feeling of you and me,
palm to palm and thoughts
of sweet sacrifice.
This body, a host for kisses
and gentle swerving of her hair,
with fingertips inlaid in gold.
We dance on a vermilion floor;
Passion bleeding out
footprints;
- Leaving a serenade behind us.
never thought you'd miss the blueprints in my eyes.
s c y t s o p h r e n i a
Day 5
Turn me on.
I am a dripping tap,
so pray emotion flows
through these pipes,
Find's its way to the nerve center
of a red blooded type-writer.
30 day's of spilling mistakes,
- recollections favor my finger, snapping
back and forth
on these letters of dirt.
Disgrace, at what will be or what will wait,
lost in the translations of my vessels.
Who said, the grass is greener on the other side?
Fur lined tongue,
I cannot interpret how I feel about you.
never thought you'd miss the blueprints in my eyes.
s c y t s o p h r e n i a
Day 6.
Holy Shit! We are alive.
Communication restrained
- sparse cries trigger nerve endings,
notions come to life, though stem at fingertips.
The idle one;
Sitting on an island leveling life boats
with a ten pound hammer.
Karma occurs - dancing round a fire
at am, wearing nothing but a Savell Row suite and
exquisite shoes.
Eating with fingers, let alone without manners;
Fact is, I cannot be arsed to dress my rock.
Formulate "help" in the sand?
I would rather write "piss off and stay away"
or "beware of the dog"
No man is an island,
But; Is it not
mans intuition to conceive a castle and misplace the key!
I ate mine, and liberation tastes worthily.
I would offer you a chair but I do not want you to stay.
Do like that seagull that debarked,
emptied it's gut
and was away before vesper.
Day 7.
A World Without Heroes
Inspired by 'Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs.'
I am not John Holt;
I am Abraham Maslow,
sitting at the depths of my pyramid.
A hierarchy of people who passions
favor mine,
foundations pulped
like a butterflies wings,
miss-shaped, broken, as I am.
I hold tight dreams, though proven,
Psychology is born in humanities perception.
Finding self-actualization,
holistic opinion mimics spineless glass;
Cracked and depleted
when set to accomplish something greater.
To be me;
I need to taste you
- love and be loved,
have sex with the lights off
so I am never unmasked.
We built our fort from candy-hearts
and a roof from ultrasound pictures.
Reciting days
when you're light did not shine,
you shot an arrow through my heart
rescuing me.
The end of my life, serves the start of ours.
I promise to be me;
Husband, father and friend.
I am no Albert Einstein
but I know the standard of life.
I will not rest until harmony and I,
shake hands
at the very top of my pyramid.
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