[x]

ColetteKiss the girls and make them die,
they say in hushed tones through vacant skies
The empty hearts of the Queen's guards
Are calling out your name

You're swimming in pools of regret
The bloody seas won't calm just yet
And your hand-me-down Catholicism
Doesn't cover life jackets or canoes

"We are witnessing a good girl's fall from grace."

They shout out in unison in wealthy estates
Sipping on Bourbon and London Gin
As you undress
They know the Harlots are in bloom
Embellished in lace, concealed harpoons

Tramps pour word upon word unto their deaf ears

Remember, seduction will only carry those in red
With cheeks a merry, stubborn b

DifferentDifferent

Tumbling, passing,it's racing by;
I can feel it slipping.
No time to gaze up at the sky;
too afraid of tripping.

You're forced upon this one-way street,
stuck in constant motion.
Having it shoved beneath your feet,
someone else's notion

The sand is falling grain by grain,
your time is running out.
Other's efforts have been in vain;
erase traces of doubt

You were born to fulfill this role,
changing their direction.
You have the power to save us all
in your sole possession

We weren't meant to stand in a line;
to be told what to be.
Teach them that different is fine,
so we can be set free

ArtistI am an artist;
I paint pictures just as you,
Vivid swirls of greys and hues
Of purples and reds,
And greens and blues.

Sometimes its dark,
Sometimes its light,
Sometimes I fear-
Something not right.

With my brush I dot and dash-
Swish across to add a slash,
Spill some here,
Throw some there.
Once I'm done its everywhere.

I see the Greats,
And wonder if
This kind of brush
Is far too stiff;
For it doesn't bend,
And hardly sways,
I'm left to wonder,
Artistic ways.

I Prayed For RainDear God,

I prayed for rain yesterday.
Rain to rinse the sprawling greens that lay across my home,
To wash the coats of the goats that graze there, so peacefully,
To clean the mildew from that rotting hut where the old man lives.
To cleanse my lips, for they are dirty with half-hearted lies.

I prayed for a warm, soft rain.
For a cold rain would make the grasses shiver and shrivel, and
the goats to mewl uncomfortably as they retreated into the darkness.
The old man would simply turn and hide in his aging hut of cold, cold stones.
And my lips? They would harden with the lies I coat them with.

I want a shower to dance in.
So the gras

Little RoyalsYour heart is not golden, it is rusted with age.
But those stretched heart-strings are the cords of your sage.
I've seen souls break too many times before
you said that you'd take care of yourself, like all the others swore.
Those bullies and beatings haven't been kind to you,
they've unleashed their ropes, their horses and hounds to tear you in two.
Yet you still stand. And when you're afar,
contrasting to the darkness, all that you are.
You are happy because you know how to cry,
you are passionate because you used to never try,
you tell the truth because you have been told a lie.
You stand tall because once you lived on the ground,
you scre

The World of My DreamsOut of the grass sprang gentle hands
that carried me over a field of clovers
And I drifted beneath the clouds,
gazing in the idle wonder
that creeps upon men like curling ivy

There was no bluer sky than that day,
and the trees-
there have never been more hearty trees
than the giant oaks towering above me
as the hands carried me further-

And when I awoke in this mysterious land,
I breathed in the scent of moist grass,
relieved to find that it was not just a dream,
and that the world in which I lived
was as beautiful as the world of my dreams

Write It On The Earth, Draw It In The SkyFor those who keep pencils in their hair
And markers in their pockets
Keep notebook paper tucked into your socks
And whose arms are covered in writing
With words to tantalizing to forget
To those who make music when no one is listening
To those who shine on stage when no one is watching

To the late-night-gotta-write-that-down-Hold on one-minute mom I'm writing!
And the people who graffiti poetry
I write this for you
To the hopeless romantics
And unrequited lovers
And the early morning daydreamers
And math class doodlers
And artists beyond help

I write this for you
Don't wait till morning
Don't say
I'll wait till morning

DreamscapesCinnamon swirls stretch you a smile,
while sitting legs underneath
on a wool rug, swayed by the music
of the waves beating
on our glass box.

The first sun-ray of the morning
sprays light between
words of old full of warmth,
hatching the wordlings on our lips.

As you take a sip of your
flavoured apple tea,
I drink the bitter black one
sweetened with milk
and a little bit of honey;
just like your tales of
south of the border,
west of the sun,
and my futile attempts
to leash that bitch of a muse.

All is well until
a desolate reason makes
the ocean break us;
and before words drift apart,
you pull them out of the flood,
and rebreath th

Thirteen YearsWill I ever see you again?

Will I ever walk along your corridors,
sit in your classrooms or dash across your fields?
Will my feet ever tread your tiled floors?
Will my fingers ever brush against your weary walls?
Will I get another chance to listen to your teachers
or wear the navy uniform with a heart full of pride?
Will I ever sing the school anthem from the bleachers?
Will my head ever be filled with thoughts of you again?

The walls have kept my secrets,
faithfully guarding them for thirteen years.
The mirrors have noted my every expression,
witnessing the best and the worst of my days.
The windows have captured each and every

IDIdentification
Is lost.
Submerging the solid stares,
Motionless.
In direct sunlight,
The air is a thick
Barrier
Halting,
Any give away.
Can't you see it's me
Without an ID?
Your eyes only detect
Plastic and Ink.
I'm easily faded out
Of this world,
So strange and monitored
With buildings full of ghosts,
Like me.
Except they truly cry
To be turned back into a tight
Flat
Surface.
A faceplate,
Devoid of humanity,
And any vivid being that could spring forth
With radiant originality,
And short circuit the system
Through instantaneous shock.
Igniting the scanners
With flames of open vision.
Remember the flesh, tone,
And soul.
Can't you see it's me
Without an ID?
Or can your eyes only detect,
Plastic and Ink?

Story of My Life (abridged)One tall mountain, no easy climb.

Angels Angels
______

When Angels care to dance , on life we take a chance ,
Try what we think is true , and risk all like a fool .

When Angels sleep to rest , our life remains a test ,
On trusting what is just, and who that we can trust .

When Angels touch our hearts, in life we must depart,
In knowledge that we know ,our journey soon will grow .

When Angels choose to leave , it's time for us to grieve ,
Our time on earth is done , and loved ones will be numb.

you only live forever in the lights you makei'm not good enough to have a bad side, and i can't see
why you're so convinced i have a good one, but when every
move makes my heart melt i can't help but fall apart
and i almost can't believe you can even think of loving me

but don't stop okay

Angel SighsWings fluttering high above.
Oh what she can see!
No corruption and chaos.
Beauty before the eye.

She soar and soars,
High as the clouds,
Seeing what others
Only can dream.

Landing on a ledge,
By water, by sea,
Is when she gazes
Down at true beauty.

The heavens part
And she can view
For miles what any
Painter can't achieve.

Folding her wings
She escapes in peace,
Serenity at her new world.

For when an angel sighs,
The world sighs with.

Lung Cancer

After the baby was born . . . she started getting sick. She had a terrible fever for a while that left her bedridden for a week. She would get sick about a couple times a year and all would last about three days . . . but there was something about this one that was different. Maybe it was because she was older and her body couldn't work as fast as when she was a teenager.

The fever subdued . . . but her cough remained. She progressively became weaker, her body ached, and she had become short of breath. She was always weak to his eyes, but never that weak. It especially started bothe

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A bottle, a piece of paper, some wordsThings that remind me of you:

The night sky.

The dark.
Winter.
The rumbling of thunder that follows lightning.

When my music, for some reason,
is on shuffle and I hear a song
that I used to listen to
two or three years ago.

Dark blue, grey and black.
Black, yellow and grey.

How my fingers get harder to move,
yet still I carry on typing,
and the muted excited happiness
that moves under the keys.

… … …

I think of you day to day
and how you crumble under my
hands in the strangest fashion –
not beautiful, but something like it.
I can watch the shards fall for
days, weeks,
and every time I blink you’ll
be

The Butterfly EffectHe had to know, by any means.

“I don’t want to listen-”
Ah. “I wonder about that sometimes.”

Madness is a defining trait,
arising from a solid 50% of
the human condition.

Only the right side, though, or so I thought;
or maybe in the spaces between letters
that language tells us identifies words
and he told me was only due to the fact
that the postman only
comes once a day.

I don’t know if I can always believe him.

He always wanted –
a light, a possibility
“What awaits at the farthest ends?"
The gentle ebb of the present quivered
and I wondered:
How do two people fit
into the

47. dirtOne day, he woke feeling restless.
There was something he needed
but he didn’t know what –
this unformed emotion sitting in
the recess of his chest that
drew pictures in the dirt.
So curious was it that he couldn’t
remove the memory from his skin.

“What do you want?” he asked,

But the feeling looked away and replied,

“It’s okay to forget about me.”

But he couldn’t,
and so he wrung his brain out
to find that mud came out of
the cracks. It was unusual and
peculiarly ugly. He cleaned it up
and tried to ignore the frayed feeling,

but it never went away.

Premature Breakageam I safe, mother?
do I exis-

I spent months inside
a crimson dream, my head filled
with the rumbling melody
of your voice,

& the way your laughter
shook my entire body.

home is a part of your insides-

mother, can they operate the peace
out of your body?

I think my head is a bit diSor iEn T ate d
because my lungs are swimmi ng in fLui d
& I caN’t remember how to bre athe
like I ne ver have beF o Re.

I’m sorry for being a bad chil d

406when I opened my eyes,
everything had changed.

people smiled & laughed &
they looked through me
as 1 looks through a
stained glass window.

my eyes were raw,
my skin was shiny & new.

I woke
and I was no longer needed

but I was wanted
& that was my happiness.

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Restless Ghosts and Sleeping Lanterns

by *wei-en, Oct 27, 2012, 8:37:57 PM
Literature / Poetry / Children's / Traditional Fixed Forms

Hush my child, don't you fear
The monster's arms will comfort, dear
Lie inside the warm embrace
And dry the tears that track your face

Listen closely to the breeze
That whispers words between the trees
In the dark they'll gently comb
And call you swiftly, safely, home

Smile, darling, shut your eyes
And hear the witches' happy cries
Feel the kindness of their light
The fire licks the coming night

When you're shivering to the bone
Remember, sweet, you're not alone
In the cracks that cross the ground
The beast will keep you safe and sound

Shh my love, no need to weep
I'll sing to you until you sleep
Nothing's scary as it seems
Hold onto that within your dreams

Don't you worry, where you stand
I'll always be, to hold your hand
Terror loses sharpened teeth
Around my bed, six feet beneath

See the stars that shine above
And know that they'll protect you, love
All is brightened by their spark
There is no need to fear the dark

Restless Ghosts and Sleeping Lanternsby *wei-en

Literature / Poetry / Children's / Traditional Fixed Forms

I've been meaning to write this for a while. It was inspired by Maria Kurenai's Theme by Haketa Takefumi. That, and just I like to write creepy poems.

I'm quite happy with how this turned out. I was going to add in another stanza but then my brain let out on me and wouldn't come up with anything.

Happy Halloween?

(c)

Do not copy, distribute or use my works, in part or in whole, without my prior written permission.

love 1 1

joy 1 1

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~Halcyal Nov 7, 2012

Ah, the Halloween poem: a little chill to warm the cockles of the heart. I like the soft shading-strokes of alliteration. A point on the poetic syntax, though. The grammatical breaks that split each stanza in half at the line 2-3 intersection are workable, but I feel that they might function better if you used some form of punctuation (likely a period or a semicolon) to call them out and prime the reading mind for the transition. They can create a bit of mental stumble, otherwise.

*wei-en Nov 7, 2012

Thank you for your advice

I went back to read the poem and I suppose that I could have added punctuation to the whole piece, but I'll keep it in mind for the future.

~Mireilles-epitaph Oct 29, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Love it, nice flow of words. In deed happy halloween

*wei-en Oct 29, 2012

Thank you

~Mireilles-epitaph Oct 30, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

you are welcome

*mertonparrish Oct 28, 2012

Very nice...

*wei-en Oct 28, 2012

Thank you!

*mertonparrish Oct 28, 2012

Welcome.

*The-Anariarch Oct 28, 2012

Most beautiful.

*wei-en Oct 28, 2012

Thank you very much

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Restless Ghosts and Sleeping Lanterns

Restless Ghosts and Sleeping Lanternsby *wei-en

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