[x]

Listen.When I was younger,
years and years ago,
I listened to the words of my mother.

She told me to never play with knives,
yet I was given a memory so clear and sharp,
I need to be careful not to cut myself sometimes.

When I was younger,
years and years ago,
I listened to the words of my mother.

She whispered to me many times,
You'll be a heart breaker,
though I swore I'd always be kind.

When I was younger,
years and years ago,
I listened to the words of my mother.

She said to me I'd be okay,
but mother I've scarred so many hearts,
won't you let me fade away?

When I was younger,
years and years ago,
I listened to the words of m

Inspiration-UncoveredThey asked me to write a poem about love,
and at first I objected,
said that I couldn't write something I didn't know.
But here I am,
stumbling over words.
Love...
maybe it's that feeling,
that passion....
where I bear my soul,
on paper,
in words.
Letting my emotion,
my thoughts,
my trivialities,
take life.
Flowing from my fingertips,
this inspiration,
so divine,
so wonderful.
And I wonder,
is there anything more perfect?
Then this creation,
that's mine and mine alone.
Maybe...
could it be...
sharing it?
With a world of misinterpreted poets,
and people just waiting,
for inspiration to be unearthed,
like relics of a past,
a past so uncertai

The WordsThe words

...........................The words

  .......The words

...........................        The words

THE WORDS

They're there, I feel them.
Consuming my mind with their elegance, their...fragility.
Yet what's this?
A strength, unheard of, unknown,
latching onto my very existence,
pulling me
          ...........................do

Every Whispered MemoryEvery memory,
Is a whisper in the dark,
Of stars in the night.

©2012

Misery's TownShe keeps her hair tied up,
With a ribbon of red,
She puts her hands up,
She places them on her head.
Maybe they'll shut her up,
might as well be dead.

Because all she's ever known,
Was how to run away from home,
So get up, won't you chase her down?
She left you on shaky ground.

She lets her foot touch the ground,
They give a warning shot.
She smiles, her teeth are ground
she knows she's been caught.
The shells shatter against the ground,
She holds tight to the locket that you bought.

Because all she's ever known,
Was how to run away from home,
So get up, won't you chase her down?
She left you on shaky ground.

She walks another step,
Bul

Midsummer's EveImprints on the grassy banks,
of rivers flowing free
sweeping wind-blown wildflowers,
into the glassy sea.
Alas, the world stands still,
on this midsummer's night.
The sun slowly fading,
to the fair nymph's delight.
Hark! Hear the heav'n sent bells,
chiming clear and true.
Sounds flow'ring,
in the night's shimmering blue.
Out come the faeries,
the pixies, elves and gnomes.
Flittering all about,
exeunt from their homes.
Soft, dainty and fair,
comes the pre-dawn's light,
changing skies into pale orange,
masking the beauty of the night.

© 2012

Starling SongIn the soft hours of May mornings,
hallowed by the sweet song of starlings,

oak trees listen close,
passionately, the music grows,

expectantly it fades away,
yellow hues now, on a spring's day.

Over hills, valleys, fields, it travels.
Under bridges, skies, buildings, it revels.

Flowing in unison with forest streams,
entering into an artist's dreams.

Elegantly, setting itself down,
leveling itself with the ground.

But the music never comes to a halt,
exceeding itself, never making a fault.

Treble clef mixed with bass,
triumphantly, the music plays.

Evening comes, the day has gone,
ravens continue the starlings' song.

© 2

Firewalking-For Phira115The flames flicker,
casting perpetual light,
upon the ever-changing shadows.
Where the darkness clings to the wall,
and embraces the shade,
which draws closer with every step,
clawing at your feet.
Embers nibble at your toes,
as they waltz from coal to coal,
intertwining as they caress your soles,
sending shivers through your body,
mingling with twinges of isolation.
Each time a foot lands,
disrupting correlated movements,
an imprint is created,
in a burning heart of fire.
Where the flames eternally dance,
in a pillar of exhaust and refuse,
into the early morning,
where they're extinguished
as the sun and moon collide.

&#

Sunsets-for Peekeeboo (Violet)Crystal scales,
weighed down with gold.
Sinking down, down, down,
into the depths below.
Invested within sand banks,
nestled snugly in treasure coves.
Descending slowly,
the currents change its direction,
floating down into crevices unseen.
Losing itself in the abyss of the sea.

© 2012

Elegance is Vanity-For hgfdsasdfghEthereal light filtering through,
lilac-coloured sheets of paper,
embalmed with clairvoyance.
Ghostly in pale light,
attracting the eye's wandering gaze
negotiating with the day's fading light.
Coloured shade
encasing the ground with
veiled grace.
A flicker,
nearly invisible on the edge of your peripherals,
indescribable beauty,
the butterfly flutters about,
youthful in its origami form.

© 2012

Furled Wings-For the-purple-princessTattered and torn,
like the sails of an ancient sailboat,
thrashing widly in the winds cruel grasp.
Turning this way or that,
loosening themselves,
pulling the little ship to safety,
before collapsing in upon themselves.

Uncurl your wings,
with their ethereal light,
wrap your body with their frail warmth,
and disappear into the night.

Withered and worn,
like the trees of times long forgotten,
standing tall,
yet battle-scarred,
from years of not living,
just surviving.
Allowing the wind to tug away at it's branches,
until there's little left.

Uncurl your wings,
spread them out for the world to see,
let the wind carry you a

I Have A SecretThrough layers of skin and make-up,
past veins, arteries, and blood cells,
deep within the heart's aorta,
tucked snuggly beneath it's structure,
there lies a girl.
She lives inside,
unaware of that which is beyond her walls.
She is a girl of few words,
and when she speaks,
her words flow sweetly.
She is softly spoken,
and speaks only truth.
But she has a secret,
one she cannot speak aloud,
one that not even her eyes betray.
Her secret I cannot say,
for if I let you know,
you'd have to stay with her,
for eternity.
There is a girl,
she live deep within,
she hurts inside,
and you can't know why.
She loves a lot,
but she

Haven-For Black-Roses-FallPitter-patter, footsteps echo through empty streets,
like the rain on a summer's day,
where lachrymal goodbyes feel like nothing,
and no one knows you aren't returning.
You put your feet to the ground,
and push off, into the world,
into a wilderness of broken pavement,
and wet cement.
Never looking back, never letting them know,
because they might hold you down.
Keep your feet moving,
keep searching for that place,
that place you feel yourself.
Tripping, you fall to the ground,
crimson stains upon your finger tips,
where jagged pieces of cold stone,
rushed towards them.
You're on the sidewalk now,
laying there, out of your

Home?There's something almost comforting,
about the creaking of the old wood desk,
as I lean upon it for support.
The crick-cracking of the squeaky chair wheels,
across the make-shift floor,
reminds me of a place I knew long ago.
Then there's the click-clacking of the keyboard,
as I write line after line,
sentence after sentence,
verse after verse.
Euphoria spreads through my fingertips,
but the jubilation is short-lived.
Through these poems,
these emotion-filled,
nonsensical,
metaphorical lines,
I find a piece of me,
a piece I lost at the age of three.
Through these stanzas,
these verses,
these words,
and countless rhymes,

NonsensicalDistorted voices,
from across the way.
Whispering to me,
telling me what to say.

I put my fingers to the keyboard,
but cant bring myself to write,
words flowintoeachother,
one sentence at a time.

I miss letter,
forgetting my initial intention,
then I try to rhyme,
words like asphyxiation.

Choking on my own words,
losing myself in metaphor.
Is the flower a flower,
could it be something more?

What is this that I write?
Can I truly call it poetry,
or just a smattering of words?
Fitting together, impossibly.

My muse, he makes no sense,
and she hides away.
Every time I call upon them,
it never seems to stay.

Distorted voice

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Labyrinthine Mind-For Angelles-LaVeauIntricate patterns,
altering themselves each day,
turn this way, turn that way.
You've lost yourself,
where did you go?

Elaborate panels,
obstacles between finding the end,
finding that which you've become.
Once you've found yourself,
where will you go?

Complex riddles,
unfathomable, a gasconade,
unbeatable.
Naught but another ploy,
more trickery,
to deprive you of your goal.

A mosaic of apathy,
bereaved of empathy.
Walls impermeable,
and lustrous,
impossible to climb.

A tessellation of parts of you,
intertwining,
confusion, a spark, a fire,
a burning desire to leave,
before the past appears.

A door, opening,
a dar

Griffons, Kidnappings, and Etc. (Collab.)We honestly haven't a clue what to type
So I'm just going to type randomness
Until inspiration hits.
Hopefully not with a baseball bat.
BUT BASEBALL BATS ONLY KNOCK YOU UNCONSCIOUS!
At least it's not a knife....-.-
But they do still hurt.
Quite a bit.
Sissie.
I simply wish to write
Not sleep.
WHAT THE HELL, WHY ON EARTH ARE YOU GOING TO HEAVEN?
That was quite a random outburst my friend.
Quite random indeed.
Isn't that the point?
Honestly...some people...
get your priorities straight!
Mine are perfectly aligned.
I simply go off path sometimes.
Are you kidding me?
They are the most crooked priorities,
I've seen since that

IrrationalizingA chemical reaction,
pertaining to my emotions,
overwhelming, consuming,
altogether heartbreaking.

A jolt, a puncture to the heart,
pushing, pulling, tearing you apart.
You're in too deep my good fellow,
yet drowning in that which is shallow.

Constricted, compressed,
more initials impressed,
upon a pumping organ,
ever so reluctant.

Covered, collisions,
between all the neurons,
comedic, confusing,
even more amusing.

A strong affection,
a personal attachment.
Philia, agape, eros,
how do I really know?

A magnet, your attraction,
just another silly emotion.
It's that burning fire,
that's probably just desire.

Crazy, calami

Real Men Write Poetry-Slam PoemHello, my name is Anna,
or "Blue" if you please.
I am a poet and so is,
Zach, Corbin, Harrison, and Kenji.
We have a passion,
a will to write,
and I don't think you have the right to stop us.
You say that we were just kids who searched for misery,
and you say that boys aren't fit to write poetry.
But those four men I just introduced,
are in my eyes so much stronger than you.
Yes I am a girl,
so call me a hypocrite,
but I'm finding it ironic,
that you think these men,
would have a problem with you.
Maybe you're the little boy inside,
look we get it, wont you just apologize?
Do you know how much effort,
that they put into th

The Loon's Lachrymal SongLonger days,
take away,
the water that's my home.

In the summer haze,
my feathers fade,
that's all I've ever known.

When will life be as it seems?
Not just my wild fantasies,
where one day I will fly high again,
nostalgic times from way back when.

Laughter echoes,
through the shallows,
of this little pond.

Who really knows,
where the water goes,
once it has gone?

When will I soar higher than ever before?
When will I be seen as something more?
Something that is beautiful,
something that is wonderful....

The lilies bloom,
with little room,
for them to grow.

It starts in June,
the Summer's gloom,
and never seems to go.

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A Rainy Smileby ~Loveislightblue

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Visual & Found Poetry

Got some fridge magnets...and decided to write some stuff.

Day 14 of 100's day challenge: Smile

Only one of the literature categories that I was allowed to put it under....

Thank you for reading.

*lantern-rose Jan 27, 2013 Professional Writer

Lovely! I didn't know there was a visual section under poetry! XD

~Loveislightblue Feb 1, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

There is! It's crazy awesome.

It was the only one I could post a picture under.

*lantern-rose Feb 14, 2013 Professional Writer

Many of a crafty thing can be done with this.

~Loveislightblue Feb 14, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Indeed!

~Contradictory55 Dec 31, 2012 Student Writer

~Loveislightblue Jan 1, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

~Contradictory55 Jan 1, 2013 Student Writer

~phira115 Dec 31, 2012 Hobbyist Digital Artist

Great visuals

Nice job (I saw this on the first page of literature, congrats

)

~Loveislightblue Jan 1, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Thank you so much!

(Really? o.o That's crazy O:

)

~phira115 Jan 1, 2013 Hobbyist Digital Artist

No problem (Yeah! Not too crazy XD)

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