Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Friday, January 10, 2025

i feed it the ugly little things


at first;

i don't think they understand

the gravity when i say to them

'i can't manage 

one good day'

when i say to them over coffee

'i'm spinning so fast i can't

see'


at first;

i don't think they understand

the weight of the words 

that fall from my mouth after 

they ask

'and how are you?'


but then;

the words i use are tart

nasty dark things to say

'not so good' 

or even 'i don't know'

isn't welcome in bookshops

on the way into the classroom

or even in the churches


the gravity

the weight

the words stir something up 

inside of them

burn their tongues

set their minds ablaze


they dash the spark out of me

afraid it will catch

but i keep it going

feed it 

with truth and the ugly little things

because 

i'm more afraid of the dark

i guess this is how it feels

to be told 

'i really don't understand'

- from Nie


Wednesday, November 29, 2023

the h u n t


people often say

they are haunted by life

I am too

but she is not in the shadows that follow me

she doesn't whisper in my ear 

the sins of my past

the possibilities of my future

such people are  h u n t e d  by life

I  h u n t  life

the very figure of life 

she is wild

like a mare 

she is flashing ahead of me

like bolts of lightning 

she is everywhere I am not

she is tossing her mane on the horizon

I can see her

but I will never make it to her in time

it is the experience of life that I  h u n t

in all the wrong places 

I  h u n t

in buildings, in streetlights, in the eyes of people

what would it be like

to ride on her back

yes, I  h u n t  her daily

I don't want to die

before I've had one ride

-from Nie

Sunday, February 13, 2022

through rain clouds and music notes


do you see yourself on   m o t h e r   earth 

walking 

              working

                              talking?

I don’t. I only see myself in 

shadows, smile lines, through rain clouds and music notes

without help 

I don’t 

exist

Monday, May 17, 2021

night play


sitting in my covers,

moonlight wakes me up,

and whispers to the wonder,

to skip and come and talk


the sparkles settle in,

the dragons chase the faye,

and snowflakes melt on window,

anxious to join the play


- miranda


Thursday, April 23, 2020

Sunday, March 8, 2020

Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths / Enwrought with golden and silver light / The blue and the dim and the dark cloths / Of night and light and the half light / I would spread the cloths under your feet: / But I, being poor, have only my dreams; / I have spread my dreams under your feet; / Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. - W. B. Yeats


Sunday, February 9, 2020

Icarus By Name



            Light   

                         So succulent and warm.

Arms that open  w  i  d  e  and tell me I am home.



 I cannot bat my wings hard enough

            To satisfy the way

                        My

                                    Heart is feeling.

“Don’t go!” They cry

            “It’s not…

                        They lie

                                    …The thing that you are seeking!”

But how can they know

                        Oh

                                                They mustn’t know



                                                                                                The cold, the bitter evening

I cannot reach it fast enough

            To prove that it

                        Is        

                                                Freeing.

I rest my wings,

My head,

My heart,

Upon the open flame

                                    And I was right, oh I was right

I’ll                   never               be                    the                   same.



            The                  pain                 will                  pass,

This time won’t last



It’s like when I was small

                        And wrapped myself  

                                                            In silken cloth

                                                                                                Emerging from the wall

I wonder what will come from this?

            The light, the precious glow               perhaps those wings

Those p          

            r

             e

               t t y things that glitter when they go…

it’s funny,

                        ha

                                    I cannot feel the wind upon my back

And like before,

            My wings are still and all the world is                b  l  a  c  k.


Monday, December 16, 2019

Sunday, August 18, 2019

I am crying for myself tonight






I am crying for myself tonight
like shooting stars from Venus' eyes
bright and beautiful feeling-
sweetly seasoning the empty skies

I am crying for myself tonight
like lightening splitting willow's branch
so shreds my hollow, wooden heart
weeping sap in sticky dance

I am crying for myself tonight
like berries bursting thick, tart sorrow
secret sadness poisons -
and sends me to sleep with
cold blue corpses
'till
  tomorrow.

M.

Thursday, July 18, 2019

From... John Keats

the stolen child by W. B. Yeats



 This, and Ode to a Nightingale by John Keats are two of my favorite poems. One summer night, I created a melody to sing the poem to. I imagine a banshee would sing this as she cries.


WHERE dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.

Tuesday, May 14, 2019

the season said so


spring
taught me to lie,
told me the grizzly likes honey,
and to feed it,
so I wouldn't die

summer
spun me a chrysalis,
put me to sleep,
drugged me with morning mist,
so I wouldn't
have to weep.

autumn
dried me out,
dug me a hole in the wormy ground,
said the sun
was ugly,
so I wouldn't
feel left out.

winter
froze my lips,
pressed the passionate words,
like flattened rose hips,
so
I can't
remember
my
name.

M.

Friday, March 29, 2019

beyond belief

Sea Ocean GIF - Sea Ocean Waves - Discover & Share GIFs Originally posted by wmhines 


☆彡 follow linzmorgans for more!



beyond belief

Clouds bubble round horizon's glass rim,
The world spilleth over,
staining, 'The End."
and
bright animal eyes speak eons of truth,
but Trappist fur cloth,
deceive us, the youth
and
bodies curl up like petals and waves,
but souls cast in amber,
continue

to
    play


M.


Wednesday, February 13, 2019

I Remember Tomorrow

     female awesome meme; 3/5 warrior ladies: raven reyes (the 100) “we all have battle scars. suck it up and build a brace for yours.”

I remember tomorrow,
when, after sleep,
opus and bliss and radiance would follow.
pain,
hushed and bleeding blue
in Nyx's mane became moonlight's hue.

I remember tomorrow,
where, like a weed,
serenity gorged on Promise's meadow.
peace,
crystallized dense tear,
and shed amber light on autumn's premiere.

I remember tomorrow,
what, hopeful seed,
composes such dubious adagio.
dream,
let loose; running wild,
has me in rapture and sinfully beguiled

M.

Sunday, February 3, 2019

Psyche's Scripts

                                        
Untitled
          
"Vapor is my tongue," I say, you nod your furrowed brow-
An impression of mine own soul which is sighing now-
I cup my breast and hear no drum. My silver string untied-
No bond, no link, "No ship to sink!" my mislead voice did cry-
My tepid fingers scour the air in search of friend or dear-
Your tarnished lips do roar my name, beckoning me near-
"No creature born from clay or loam would think of your meek flesh"-
Mine eyes did burn with salty vice that ran unseen and fresh-
With veil and cloak I left the hall, afraid they'd spot my lips-
And hear my words or see me speak, revealing psyche's scripts-
"I'm mist, I'm light, I'm empty space where impassioned soles don't tread" -
A flame now blown with smoke for hair and ashes for my bed-
I tug my skin and rap my bones; I am a being true-
Sculpted by a greater face and painted then with blue-
If my palms do ache to hold and my heart to beat-
Why is all I've ever known, starless skies deplete?-
I feel no breath, no warmth of skin on my neck or cheek-
No secrets to be shared. No treasure here to seek-
I look, the glassy amber rings are glazed and sparkling still-
And into them I see a valley, begging to be filled-
"Lonesome is my name," I say, you answer quick as light,-
"Dark is where you'll always stay, the fatal, final night."

M.

                                   

Wednesday, January 23, 2019

A Pretty Chaos



The moth beats its heavy wings,
struggling to the light,
the promise of pretty things,
and deliverance from the night.

The rain frees from clouds,
rippling through the air,
longing to kiss the grounds,
and shimmer in people's hair.

The flower reaches high,
curling beneath the sun,
rich heat-soaked petals cry,
at last, my growth is done.

It's all a pretty chaos,
time and night and day,
a bittersweet song sung to us,
before the final decay.

M.