[x]

EuphoriaMelodies of majestic music I breathe,
Sucking such splendid verses into my pores,
Waiting till I can drown in it's beauty some more.
Silence is a sombre song I shall never believe,
But when it's all in my mind there is only one desire.

To soar so high on the lines of rhyme,
And feel the beat trigger happiness every time,
I don't know if chords could commit so many a crime.
But my love for lazing to lullabies and lyrics,
Leaves me with a heart filled with burning fire.

It's an aural perfume exploding from that soulful stereo,
Blowing me away with rhythms of rage on the radio,
If ever I'd dream of arias by angels above this sphere.

and love becomes their songthe dark, seething, crimson rose
begged for your touch
upon her twisting, cutting,
luscious vine

"Bleed for me,"
she pleads,
"restore the color to my petals
winter's thieved."

she splays herself
before your palms
"Breathe of me,"
she requisitions,
"house me in your loving lungs
so I can be your song."

so you reach for thorny vine
and she wraps herself around you;
drinking of your vigor-
as you place renewed petals
before your face
and breathe her seed
into your waiting chest

"Water me,"
she sings,
"let me drink of you
in a new way."

and without waiting
for your bated
yes-
she tightens her spiny grip
around your flesh
and tears water the

Black-HeartOh look at her with ivory eyes,
Striking the velvet veil of starless skies.
Is she a draconian demon ready to bring ruin,
Upon those that ripped her life apart,
With every pulsating beat of her black-heart?

Oh look at her with crimson claws,
Maiming the satin skin of monstrous maws.
Is she a bedlam beast desiring to grant devastation,
Upon those who mocked her for a start,
With all the wild begging of her black-heart?

Oh look at her with ebony breath,
Purging the flaxen flesh of devilish death.
Is she a cruel creature who wields her earthly wrath
Upon all who took to hurt with such art,
With the aching echoes of her black-heart?

Waltzing his last danceThe hall slowly fills;
there is not a tremor, not a sound.
The silence instills
the beating hearts of those that stand around.
Merriment then swells;
its satiating tremble within so profound
but alas there is but one man,
that waltzes to a tune unfound.

The merriment grows
as heels tap and dresses sway.
The bodies glow
with the light shimmering over the ballet.
The melody flows
for all participants are joyful and gay
yet woeful is the man in the corner
that dances a dance of dismay.

People laugh;
the girls in the hall giggle and pose
on the men's behalf
displaying their ornamented clothes;
the splendor in craft
invit

(c)loves and (c)loversi am no artist's muse,
i am no ship's harbor

i am no hero's weaker heel,
i am no good earth's flower

i have never been your lover
nor have i ever kissed you,
- not even once

though i dream of you (c)love-scented,
with lips shaped like a lucky (c)lover's-
kissing you and to be kissed by you
over and
over

i can never profess,
not even confess

note:
even to myself

i stay standing, (b)raving the cold nights,
pretty much batty and bootless

yet again,

the absence of you weighs metric tons on my
ringing ear,
shivering nape, and
repressed should

Teratophobia

I am scared.
Scared of the monsters
Lurking in my past.

The monsters
With wicked eyes.
Who watch me,
Waiting for a chance,
An opportunity,
To knock me off balance.

I am scared
Of the monsterous things I have done
And who I have become;
As a result of the hatred,
And resentment,
And those terrible things
That are too unspeakable
To be said.

I fear
That the monsters,
Whose red gleaming eyes;
Red like the colour of blood,
Red like the roses collecting dust in the corner;
The monsters with such hideous eyes
Will make their presence known.

I am scared
That all that I am
Will shatter in an instant,
Will disappear,
Like s

Stars In My EyesI'm seeing stars in my eyes,
Like little white nebulae,
Or the glowing of mystic fireflies.
In this sleep of which we call eternity,
We seek a way to that mortal day.

I'm seeing stars in my eyes,
Like vast rainbow supernovas,
Or the bluest of celestial skies.
It's more than just a dream of surrealism,
Than to awake to this world of dire realism.

I'm seeing stars in my eyes,
Like supermassive black holes,
Or the rarest of honest cries.
Is this is a coma of my imagination?
Or was it more than mere fascination?

Doctor DeathDoctor Death will see you now,
"What is it that pains you?" asks he,
"I have a burning in my breast," says I,
"Looks like a coronary in your chest," says he,
And his cure travels down into my veins of a tree.

Doctor Death will hear you soon,
"What are your ailments?" asks he,
"I suffer from an amorous affliction," says I,
"Seems to me your an addict of addiction," says he,
And his prescription cuts out all that could be free.

Doctor Death will meet you here,
"What is this illness of yours?" asks he,
"I'm dying from a disease," says I,
"This emancipation I'll tame with ease," says he,
And his remedy calmed my rage like the turnin

SilenceI seek and search for silence,
For a quiet to sooth my soul
I hunt and track down silence
To bring peace to my aching soul

I search and I search, yet nothing I find
No quiet from the raging storm, no solace for the mind
I cry and I try, yet no silence can be found
And I fear I’ve left my soul here to be drowned

So I looked to the sky to find out why
And a quiet Voice told me to stop and be still
I wondered why I should even try
And I felt my soul shiver with the thrill

I found silence, sweet silence,
For my troubled soul
It’s here, hidden by my God,
Where silence meets my weary soul

Sonnet XXIIOp. 21, no. 4
Love Language

Is but the seemly raiment of my heart
The jealous love that I, a brother, give?
Or is this covering but just a part
Of passion God has willed in me to live?
O, search my heart and know my deepest thoughts--
Nay, search your own and mine will be revealed--
I covet not, I bear no secret plots
To take and open what the Lord has sealed.
But surely you will not begrudge me when
I long that we may one day love through touch.
This language that transcends both tongue and pen
Is dialogue that speaks and listens much.
My sister, I make no impure demands;
I simply long to hold your praying hands.

The Man Who Was King

The Man Who Was King
I was told to keep my head all about me
When others were losing theirs
And blaming it on me.
I was told to be hated
But don't give way to hating.
To be lied about
But don't deal in lies.
Yet I did not listen to the preaching's of my master,
I failed to follow the righteous path.
I bereave my sceptered isle,
My golden crown,
My gilded sword,
The potency I possessed.
But now I am no king.
I am a knave,
I am a fool,
I have lost all that was divine.
I remain a phantasm of the man who was king.
I show no remorse.
I lost my head
And so did those about me.
I was lied about
And retaliated wit

The Writer's One Second SparkSense no darkness when I am wide awake and on fire,
I could do this for another second, another minute, another hour.
Oh what creativity in this cortex that blossoms like the simple flower,
How these intricate rhymes of innocent words give my heart,
Such a pounding energy of pride to recycle my writer's power.

Sense no blindness when I am wide awake and full of desire,
I could do this for another day, another week, another year.
Oh what brilliance in this brain that emotes like the complex tear,
How those delicate rhythms of distant beats give my soul,
Such a resounding spark of arrogance to rekindle my writer's fear.

Autobiography

By Death and a prayer,
Through my tongue
A burning blade into
The hearts of many.

You know me not
But a name and a rumor.
Yes, to the will and way
By which I attempt to live.

Human am I, yet ever so strange.
Far gone, and close to madness
But still am I sane
By Death and a prayer.

The Seduction

He'd seen her face a hundred times before,
but now 'twas different, of that he was sure!
Her eyes were afire, her lips were blood red.
The fruit in her hand: "Eat some," she said.

"For look I was blind. Behold, now I see!
The fruit doth taste well, now harken to me.
The earth is our home, it's ours to explore.
We'll experience it now like never before!"

He gazed at the fruit, then looked up at her.
He felt somewhat flushed, his blood was astir.
That body! That face! He wanted her so!
He snatched at the fruit, he'd give it a go!

The rest, as they say, is history now.
For six-thousand years we've suffered, and how!
If only he'd listened to t

Song of ErosI could write a song,
A hundred words or more,
Writing it down until my hand was sore,
And sing it to you all day long,
But would you love me evermore?

I would write a poem,
A thousand lyrics or less,
Thinking up random rhymes at a guess,
And then would I be as solemn,
Don't think my love is just a jest.

I should write an anthem,
A million letters at a time,
Working under the celestial chime,
And how heavenly would be the rhythm,
You'd say my love ought to be a crime.

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In A Forest DarkGliding in sable forests I stalk,
Upon cracking sticks and velvet soil,
I sail onwards under my fearless walk.
Never knowing how lost I have become,
Grasping arms entrap me in their horrendous home.

Wandering in dark woods I muse,
Along rushing streams and chaotic moss,
I'll be given a simple choice but I will refuse.
To continue onwards to the lair of death,
Weeping stares will consume my beastly breath.

Stumbling in black trees I trek,
Across waiting stones and fragile twigs,
I journey further until I reach a ghostly wreck.
In an oasis of green flourishing in a placid scene,
Studying acutely it's image of an object obscene.

Dancing DragonsDancing dragons in the air,
Flying high with fluid flair.
Captured onto a celestial canvas,
Elegant eyes sketching with a beautiful brush,
As they dive down into a reckless rush.

Soaring serpents in the wind,
Twisting around with kinetic kind.
Imprisoned onto a pure photograph,
Graceful gazes painting with a sincere snap,
As they lie low to take a nuanced nap.

Wandering wyverns in the skies,
Swimming fast with cherubic cries.
Engraved onto a fantastical frame,
Dexterous digits carving with a seraphic skill,
As they swiftly swerve by their wondrous will.

Howling hydras in the zephyr,
Cruising free with winter weather.
Trapped

Self-Righteous SuicideUnder pistol pressure of my mind,
I've been forsaken by all I know,
And I shoot. Bang!
Just watch me slam into the scarlet flow,
Letting me drift away to my dark dream.

Under weary weight of my soul,
I've given up on all I believe,
And I cry. Damn!
But I still breathe to my black relief,
Purging the gasps of that sanguine scream.

Under choking conscience of my heart,
I've taken on all I can suffer,
And I explode. Boom!
This suicide of mine is not a crimson offer,
Relinquishing that current of a silver stream.

Disorder Of A New WorldDisorder in this new world order,
Converging into the skin of society,
Never blinking. Never thinking.
Suffocating from sinful smoke of piety,
Dying in thunderous flames licking at our feet.

Disorder in this new world order,
Breaking apart the crust of community,
Never walking. Never talking.
Paralysing from fresh fear of ferocity,
Killing in riotous storms lingering on our street.

Disorder in this new world order,
Pleading away the dust of democracy,
Never dancing. Never glancing.
Bleeding from black blisters of bureaucracy,
Slaying in murderous blizzards lashing in our beat.

The Dividing LineSpend those waking days of doom,
Trying to walk that great divide,
In that path of life you'll never hide.
But unwrap the mist of morbid gloom,
And let free all your instincts to survive.

Forget those dying hours of hunger,
Continuing down that great divide,
To find that soul to which you can confide.
But close your eyes to eternal slumber,
And then you'll see the fate of your belief.

Desire those relaxing seconds of silence,
Halting on the edge of that great divide,
By embracing a fate you'll never ride.
But taste your breath of death's essence,
And you'll know this mortality you can deceive.

A Bad PersonAm I a bad person,
Just because you don't like me?
I can't help the way I am,
Nor do I need this grievance you see,
Though the friendship can never be born.

Am I a bad person,
Just because you hate my smile?
It's not a statement of self,
Honestly I find myself to be vile,
But you don't need to send me into oblivion.

Am I bad person,
Just because I act the way I like?
I'm sorry if I'm such a git,
I didn't mean to generate this psych,
Yet your judgement has passed and you've won.

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The Siren

by ~NemoX7, Jul 14, 2012, 6:57:22 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

She's a siren of the airwaves,
And I love it when she misbehaves.
Burning air I lust after her elegance,
Breathing in all her melodies lasciviously,
Pursuing her blindly over currents of crimson chance.

But every single time she cries my name,
I don't know if to her it's all just a game.
Weeping tears only for me,
Wailing along the air seductively,
Drowning me softly in glades with gruesome glee.

She's a siren turning me into ash,
Yet her love like tempestuous waves crash.
Sitting down next to me,
Singing down my ear promiscuously,
Killing me gently upon shores of sombre seas.

The Sirenby ~NemoX7

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

I based this on a spark of inspiration about the mariner's myth about sirens. You know the beautiful mermaid sitting on a rock who sings to passing merchant or pirate ships before sending them to their deaths.

In my own view this is about a guy who hears a beautiful feminine voice singing on the radio and he falls in love with her. Tracking her down she thens kills the poor soul.

love 1 1

~~joy 0 0~~

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~Ozuchi-Kozuchi Jul 27, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I like it. The theme is carried throughout and wrapped up nicely. Your rhyme scheme seems a little forced in places, especially the second stanza, though the last one is awesome.

~Synnic Jul 15, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

I really love your opening stanza, but you seem to lose the rhythm afterwards to awkward turns of phrase. It feels like you started fishing to fit the rhyme scheme you had chosen.