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Sunrise GallowsCrimson
Crimson
Sunrise haze.
Morning gallows
Gather today.
It's heard through the forest
It's heard everyday.
Another has fallen
Another is saved.
Keep your eyes open
Don't look away.
They want you to see this
They want to see pain.
One's losses
Is another's gain.
Sunrise Gallows
Gather today.

UntitledI had no pen or paper
to write it down
so I ascended the stairs
into the attic
where dreams fly freely

tucked a blanket here or there
beneath yellow daylight

the moon was caught
in a misty blue
so early
the sun appeared
fighting for the sky

the white puffs of cloud
seemed to envelope
the globe like a shroud

and gleaming eyes
are enticed
to view the fog
like a spectral mist
deciphering molecules
stuck in the glare
of sparkles

lazily abides
to shake off
what once was there.

firm gripYour fingers strum
the chords of my brain
a hand cupped chin
to raise me from beneath

I’d know this insulation anywhere
it feels like putting on a comfortable shirt
arms fill the sleeves
as fabric moves over skin exquisitely
for the perfect fit

I lie every time I nod my head in silence

It was anchors I needed
and fish hooks
I know the art of drowning
suspension and bleeding

The captain goes down with his ship,
but not before he sails

Now is not the time
for bravery and fear
we passed those
craggy rocks
years ago

Twisting in my skin,
pulling tight on the ropes

Head strong
into the squall
moves through and between
wriggling fingers

The Town Of No RemorseIn a town so pure and sweet
lies a secret hidden deep

you can search high and low
you'll never find which way to go

faces plastered with a smile
gentle gestures, "stay awhile"

look beyond that curling grin...

everyone takes a part in it
even if they never mean it

(They never see it)

Turn a cheek and turn a chin
they wash their hands with soap and sin
move along now stand in line
take a ticket 'till it's time.

Once they have you in your place
this is where you'll spend your days

killing everything inside...

(and this is how their secret dies...)

Purge The SoulRifts of layered satin
move and cover whole
Overlapping limbs
and binding to the core
Struggling direction
as the rift provides more
Ways to turn and toss
and question
lessening the hold
Interwoven truths unbound
tethered to the sea
Currents carry taint away
simultaneously
let go of the handle
offered by the spout
Quench your thirst in rivers
clearing up the drought
Throw it all away
clothes cast upon the shore
'till ghostly skin is crystal clear
and find out you have more
~the purging of the soul~

Caffeinated JellyfishI'd trade my sweetened tea
for your stingray beliefs
but i know that even broken teacups
couldn't fill the cracks between your teeth;
the holes in your bones from all your
haphazard hopes and
lackluster lies;
i can't fill the void
of a rotten soul
that's been dipped
in too many ice cream cones.

and now, i am a
jellyfish.
my hopes are propellers.
i soar through starshine
with sea-stained wings.
i am dangerous.
i am a caffeinated jellyfish;
i've learned that hope only stings.

TransparencyI always believed
That the galaxies
In your eyes
Were more than just
The reflection
Of the sun,
Like I could pour glitter
Down your throat
And make you a star.

But you broke
My kaleidoscope glasses,
And forced my eyes
Wide open,
And now, I can't
Go
Back.

You're only a
Shattered
Glass window
That shone just right;
A mere reflection
Of multi-coloured starshine.
All you are
Is warped glass shards.

You're a monochromatic mirage,
And I'm a victim
Of translucent thinking, but
I see right through
Your clear, smooth lies.

Science and MathematicsTake all of your silky words
And tie them to a rock
Throw them in the ocean and
Watch all of them drop
Will they sink to the bottom?
Or will they float up top?
How deep does your meaning go,
or is it just a flop?
Your de•lect•able honey-spice
Sure did cook up nice,
but upon the swallowing
I learned I ought to, think twice.
Think Twice.

Don't take my silence for, grant-ed.
With eyes to the skies
And head Under water
You're a flickering light
and under you falter
You can't take the heat
Under salt water...

you bet your teeth
I'm counting
you better believe
I added it up.

stories after darkthey meet most often
in the dark;
through midnight encounters,
lost lovers content with silence
and only the dim glow
of starlight from the window.
beneath the blankets
bedroom walls tumble down,
bedroom floors cease to exist;
and the entirety of space begins to
spin overhead,
fraught with all the possibilities
found lingering on that first
page, in that first word
tingling on the tongue
with anticipation,
then rolling off,
sweet, powerful,
honey for the heart.

once upon a time,
a little girl loved books,
and when her parents thought
she was asleep in bed
she'd tuck underneath the covers
and run away inside
the whi

a girl like summerher laughter had a chime like the echo
which resonates after
two patterned teacups
clink together atop a lace
tablecloth.

she had sun browned shoulders
and too many freckles
and he was perplexed
by the idiosyncratic
golden auburn of her hair,
cut just beneath her chin.
she had no way with words
but a way with actions,
and danced like a drizzle
of fine rain whispering against
a window on late summer afternoons.

they told him he could not adore a creature untamed,
a being with firefly eyes and
skin redolent of
wheat fields reflecting gold lazily back to
the azure sky
beneath the sun.

those petal lips were not to kiss,
her

countermove.She speaks checkmates
and sleeps asunder.

the unfamiliar notion of closure.there are days where i live too thoroughly
(incorrectly)
under the concept
of constant progression:
if you're not always moving forward
you might accidentally
take a step back.

My Dearest

Dearest Robert,

Every night I walk the narrow path to The Door, Your Door. (I tell no one. I make sure they're not watching). They tried to keep me from you. Did you know they hid the letters? They hid them, but I found them in the attic underneath a pile of your clothes. They tried to donate those too, but I stopped them. I had a fit and I made them stop. Everyday my nightgown is damp with tears, but at night I have comfort. I know you're with me then.

Already there is talk of moving on. It's been a whole year, they say. I need to Let Go, Move On, but I'm making plans of moving in. They tire of me day after day; not dressing, hardly eating

...extra batteries.I want to retrieve
A scent so familiar
It breathes on its own
In new lungs and comfort.

I want to put a tag on
Something of mine
That's not for sale.

I want to catalogue
The epilogue and read it
To no one.

I want to walk across
The ocean in the
Night fog head lights
With one beam out
I want to car crash
Eternal.

I want Alaskan sunrise
For breakfast
Over-easy.

I want the porch moment
Of rustling leaves
In solitude.

I want starry eyed
Vanity mirrors
Addressed to Know one
In antique shards
Of memories
By no one
In a streaming soft
Sunlight.

I want camera stills
Hidden in attics.
I want a sticker gun
For cardboard

Moscow Does Not Believe In Tearslove don't
let me go,
because i
know all
others--including
myself--
have forsaken
this
porcelain heart.

i could
travel, with
a metro ticket
in my hands,
and search for
painted memories,
but trains
can only go
so far.

i have
felt sadness,
in the equivalence
of a thousand
siberian winters
and my burning
heart still tries
to warm
them all.

i can no
longer be
cradled by
your hands,
they are
red with
passion from
another.

but what
am i
without you?
only a
meaningless montage
of
byzantine woes.

and while
i can stand
in the square
and proclaim
my helplessness,
my face
will remain
dry of
salt

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(~ frightened by the powers, that we have not ~)

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Submitted: August 17, 2012
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by *lantern-rose, Aug 17, 2012, 6:18:59 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

mascara band-aids
and cosmic blush
tepid hand shakes
and trysts of lust

forever daunting
the panther prowl
forever seeking
somewhere, somehow

smoke rings gather
in spectral mist
slow movements
elbows and twists

shoulders furled up
in the cold
no one knows
which way to go

but car crashes
are just as common,
as hope.

The Loungeby *lantern-rose

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

I had a slow soul / jazz tune in my head when I wrote this.

I think ~CelestialMemories's novel work got me thinking about these things. ^^

Thank you! =HillsOfMyst feature: [link]

Critique by ~CelestialMemories Aug 22, 2012, 11:43:03 AM

_{I'm honored that you were inspired by my story that it made you write this beautiful poem.

What I loved with this is how smooth this poem flowed. Like it could be turned into song lyrics and played with smooth jazz. Secondly, you put images that can be compared to a jazz age or jazz lifestyle, as well as romanticizing it with hyperbole.

You're improving with your use of punctuation, there are a couple parts that I got stuck with, but it did not take away the effect of the poem.

You did an amazing job with this, it was so relaxing and cool!}

What do you think?

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Critique by *Rainyhawaii Aug 20, 2012, 1:30:09 PM

The first thing I noticed about this poem was the lack of punctuation and grammar. Punctuation and grammar very important, especially in poetry, because in poetry the lack of punctuation or grammar can also say something; however, in this case it just looks sloppy. If those two are corrected then the "Technique" and "Impact" star scores on the side would be higher. It would also help it flow a little better; the words do roll nicely of ones tongue, but that's it.

Second is that when I was reading through this I was really enjoying that jazzy kind of scenery in my mind and the first four stanzas were really good with that. Then all of a sudden you change to car crashes. It just seemed to be a really abrupt change right before ending. That just really jerked me out of that nice jazzy feel and left me kind of... abjected. Now I see that you could have done that on purpose to give it that kind of a "chill", but that seems, to me, like ending a love story with bloody murder on the last page. (<-- Only my opinion) (I would have given higher on the "Imapct" and "Vision" had this not perturbed me so much.)

All that aside I really did love this poem, it gave me that really jazzy feel that I like when listening to jazz. This is a poem I would read two or three times over and a bit. I would love to have been sitting in some little coffee shop listening to jazz on my iPod when I came across this. Actually I am now intending to do that later today.

Good points:
Vision
Diction
Rhythm

Bad points:
Grammar
Punctuation

What do you think?

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=HillsOfMyst Sep 18, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

you have been featured here!

i would really appreciate it if you could take the time to

the journal and show the other features some love

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~featherback Aug 18, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I fell in love with this from the first line. It's so fluid and the words roll effortlessly off the tongue. There's something mysterious and yet forlorn about this piece; I sense several stories within a story about people looking for that something, whatever it may be to each of them. And the imagery is fantastic! Like jazz tunes and ~CelestialMemories's novel, I can picture old-style clubs downtown, languid music in the background, blue smoke rising up to the ceiling, women in fancy dresses and men leaning on polished counters. The last line just rounds off the whole thing perfectly, and left me with a little chill: "but car crashes/are just as common,/as hope." Brilliant sort of paradox/contrast there. Excellent job!

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~Contradictory55 Aug 17, 2012 Student Writer

It's so fluid, it just flows through the mind, images languidly passing through...there's so much meaning here, of hiding one's natural face in hopes of being 'beautiful', of finding where one fits in, where one is at home, but knowing that it can all pass by one so quickly....

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