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Literature Text
I.
I'm so tired of all the sweethearts and young beaus
comparing their loves to the stars,
the infinitesimal specks of luminiferous ether up yonder,
yet I'll chop off all the stars in the cosmos
as if they were hanging from a thread in a little boy's room,
so you can be the only guiding light in the night sky.
II.
I'm so tired of all the heartthrobs and exalting admirers
comparing their loves to the angels of above,
the cold and placid sentinels of immateriality, incorporeality,
yet I'll turn all the diaphanous clouds of the heavens into concrete,
where it shall plummet from the firmament like its own fallen seraphs
and you can rise from the ashes, a sempiternal empress of veneration.
III.
And I'm so tired of all the lovers and grandiloquent infatuates
comparing their loves to the platitudes of today,
their meanings lost to tumbleweeds and detritus,
yet this is how it transpires, back to the rudiments,
my diction analogous to ten thousand more,
like a flock of birds in the sky, all the same when you look at them.
But this is how it transpires,
trying to capture the paradigm of beauty in ink,
but you can't quite find the ideal tone,
the correct permutation, the sufficient expressions,
the right words-
And the birds they fly.
I'm so tired of all the sweethearts and young beaus
comparing their loves to the stars,
the infinitesimal specks of luminiferous ether up yonder,
yet I'll chop off all the stars in the cosmos
as if they were hanging from a thread in a little boy's room,
so you can be the only guiding light in the night sky.
II.
I'm so tired of all the heartthrobs and exalting admirers
comparing their loves to the angels of above,
the cold and placid sentinels of immateriality, incorporeality,
yet I'll turn all the diaphanous clouds of the heavens into concrete,
where it shall plummet from the firmament like its own fallen seraphs
and you can rise from the ashes, a sempiternal empress of veneration.
III.
And I'm so tired of all the lovers and grandiloquent infatuates
comparing their loves to the platitudes of today,
their meanings lost to tumbleweeds and detritus,
yet this is how it transpires, back to the rudiments,
my diction analogous to ten thousand more,
like a flock of birds in the sky, all the same when you look at them.
But this is how it transpires,
trying to capture the paradigm of beauty in ink,
but you can't quite find the ideal tone,
the correct permutation, the sufficient expressions,
the right words-
And the birds they fly.
Literature
Love Letter
When daylight dims, leaving the cool fluorescence of night creeping up over the horizon, my thoughts always turn to you. Outside my window stars shine in reflection of your brilliance, overjoyed to occupy the same galaxy as you. When daylight once again returns to us, the birds sing in harmony with your heartbeat. The warm morning breeze brings with it your scent, inundating my nostrils with You. My tenacity grows with each breath I take, every strand of your hair that twinkles in the midday sun. I can feel the words on my lips, begging to be whispered into your ear with a gentle tenderness born of pure adoration. As you turn I see the ghost
Literature
Of candles and consequences.
Write, poet: write
of misshapen mishaps,
of the long awaited rain,
of a walk with butterflies,
of little things that fill homes,
of fathers who lose their children,
of the clear resonance of the empty north,
of snow in rain when coming back from fencing,
of a curious warm feeling -- that warmth for you
(burning me down,
millions of years in the making),
of the end of you and I.
Literature
Love at All?
What is it like?
To see them there?
Eyes either shining brightly like starlight
Or gazing shrouded in mysteries
Yet to be uncovered
Deep in the prison of our imagination
There is only where we can think
Of the pleasures they will bring us
Or the pain they may cause us
Love is a gamble
One that demands payment
It won’t break your legs or thumbs
But rather do something worse
It can shatter your heart
Love is a gamble
One that has many winners
It will make your heart sing and dance
It will do something you great
It can strengthen your heart
Cuddles and Drama
Kisses and Curses
Pleasure and Pain
Is better to have loved and lost?
Or
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Palimpsest - A manuscript written over earlier ones.
Hello again, and I'm back with another! (Two in one month, what a miracle.) So as of late, I haven't been posting as much as I like, which is pretty of obvious from my lack of activity. However during this rehabilitation period I've been teaching myself a lot of new words, primarily from reading works by Poe. Dude's a lifesaver, learned a bunch of words, and here I put my newfound knowledge to the test.
toxic--sunrise helped me get started with this deviation, so props to her.
Feel free to comment your opinion, critique, whatever you wanna say below.
Enjoy!
(p.s. the poem gets more and more weird towards the end and i'm sorry.)
Hello again, and I'm back with another! (Two in one month, what a miracle.) So as of late, I haven't been posting as much as I like, which is pretty of obvious from my lack of activity. However during this rehabilitation period I've been teaching myself a lot of new words, primarily from reading works by Poe. Dude's a lifesaver, learned a bunch of words, and here I put my newfound knowledge to the test.
toxic--sunrise helped me get started with this deviation, so props to her.
Feel free to comment your opinion, critique, whatever you wanna say below.
Enjoy!
(p.s. the poem gets more and more weird towards the end and i'm sorry.)
Comments18
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yet I'll chop off all the stars in the cosmos
as if they were hanging from a thread in a little boy's room,
so you can be the only guiding light in the night sky.
this is brilliant
as if they were hanging from a thread in a little boy's room,
so you can be the only guiding light in the night sky.
this is brilliant