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Literature Text
The last few folds of day
are leaving on a train
to Mexico,
hitching up
red skirts
and flying south.
Watch them
salsa – rumba – tango
with night,
fling their skirts about -
Red sky delight.
are leaving on a train
to Mexico,
hitching up
red skirts
and flying south.
Watch them
salsa – rumba – tango
with night,
fling their skirts about -
Red sky delight.
Literature
Nocte
Hiding from the beast,
From tree to tree,
Running in the dark,
I tell myself such things,
Slow- so it won't find you,
Breath.
These fires have scorched far and wide,
Leaving the scent of my former cinders to linger in my head,
Like some bad bender,
Warped memories encircling grey,
The ground is made of shattered glass,
Broken dreams.
No lilies remain,
To any kingdom I run,
In mirrors of liquid glass,
Surrealist battles are won,
And like fear,
The spider crawled from my mouth.
They are sedating everything,
Brush pixilated,
Focus changing,
Leaving me to run in the dark,
Caught in the eye of the storm,
Hiding in the calm.
Literature
water
i am not afraid of death.
i did not want
the boy beneath the apple trees,
or the cherry petals
in the orchard, touched with invisible fingers
leaving brown indentations, bruised
with your inflection even on the brink of spring
not the one littered under the sunlit twigs
grappling for heaven
But the one lying exactly center field
staring straight at the sky--
waiting for a crash of thunder
for the paper flowers, metaphor for holding
over the sills of everything transient,
and left for erasing-- like a soul brimming
over the bridge of an emotion
strong enough to overcome itself.
brave boy with a thousand faces-- i see
Literature
Darkness
All consuming Darkness,
Slithering through the world unseen,
Twisting till nothing is as it once has been,
Leaving the world lifeless.
Fun and love destroyed,
Happiness it seeks.
Persisting till one's annoyed
And one breaks.
The Darkness never leaves,
Like water one could believe,
Changes for it needs
But let's you bleed.
Accompanying one restless,
Keeping others at bay.
Stepping on one as one lay,
Ever consuming Darkness.
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Wrote this a while ago.
Not really sure how much I like this, expecially the last line.
Not really sure how much I like this, expecially the last line.
© 2005 - 2024 a-random-quigle
Comments7
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Whoa. I really like this poem. I usually find poems about sunsets are a bit cheesy or overdone, but this one is great. It just makes sense, the metaphor(s), and I read it and thought it was so original without being cryptic. It's one of those things where I'm like "why didn't I think of that?"