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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

Summer Lovin'On a summer's day, your voice is warm,
while secrets flow between you and I.
The sky is tinged with blues and reds,
creating perfect sunsets.
the daylight dwindles and time passes by,
soon I will have to go,
and darling, I'll miss these days with you.

© 2012

Silence is an Empty RoomA room,
filled with warmer pasts,
blackout curtains,
and skeletons in the closet.

Where words are lost,
in soundproof tiles,
noise dampeners,
and a too-thick wall.

A room,
filled with bitter thoughts,
foreign feelings,
and boarded up hearts.

Where words are lost,
in wooden obstacles,
painted lies,
and a jewelery box.

©2013

Like a SongI want to hold your hand,
like a song
that we compose
under candlelight stars.
Your major thirds
clash with my perfect octaves.
And as you take my hand,
you lose yourself
In the crowd of people dancing.

I want to embrace you,
like a song,
tenderly kissing my lips
with sweet ecstasy.
Your crescendos
meld into my decrescendo.
And as you hold me,
I lose myself,
In the warmth of your wool sweater.

I want to kiss you,
like a song,
embracing my ears
with dulcet tones.
Your harmonies
intertwining with mine.
And as you twirl me around
we lose ourselves
in the arms of our winter melody.

©2013

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

©2012

For That Boy Across the RiverTake me to your side of the river,
for here the banks are crumbling,
and my composure slipping
under the weight of the early winter's rain.
Yes, take me to your side of the river,
where the nymphs sing sweetly
of the cares that melt away,
and bleed into the river currents.

© 2012

Fireworks-A HaikuI'd nearly lost hope,
when you set off fireworks,
at the edge of dusk.

© 2012

Waking DreamsShall we take a walk?
Through fields of dreams;
picking and choosing.
Testing ripeness
with cracking lips
and dried hands.
Letting our teeth push through skin,
and through flesh.
The juices flowing down our faces,
the dregs of lost reveries.

Shall we try to fly?
Through skies of memory;
jumping and missing.
Testing wingspan,
with currents of air,
and bodies of water.
Letting our wings expand
and push through shoulder bones.
The feathers tickling bare skin,
the vestiges of a dream.

Shall we lay?
Through day and night;
shoulder to shoulder.
Testing the cold
with wide eyes
and outstretched arms.
Letting our bodies adjust
and embrace the air.
T

ImpairmentMinutes fly south
bringing with them longer days
and a warmth so embracing,
so fleeting...

I think of my youth,
where minutes felt like hours,
and there was all the time in the world
for a little girl.

I remember the days
the sun tilted back my shot glasses,
dizzied my mind with disillusioned drunken heartbeats
of summer heat.

Now the time
it flows in slow-motion
the currents languidly drifting by
murmur "Goodbye".

©2013

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

Simply For ZachAn innocent reverie,
an adrenaline rush,
remembered as you speak with me,
through the world's hush.

A childhood fantasy,
of faeries, elves and gryphons,
just another ecstasy,
a memory I have hidden.

An elegant vagary,
a masquerade of truth,
written in your poetry,
discovered within you.

A foolish transparency,
of careless inspiration,
just another lucid dream,
the drug is motivation.

An elicit epiphany,
another way to feel,
your words are a symphony,
an idea that's become real.

A new amphetamine,
of a wayward world,
just another mockery,
I'm but a shell of a girl.

An exact epitome,
overused, cliché,
an anthology

Skeletons in The ClosetUnspoken words hang,
like skeletons in closets,
of childhood homes.

© 2012

StrangerI realized you were,
just a stranger in the dark,
trapped within my arms.

© 2012

A Prescription for LoveI've always thought that love was blind,
maybe it is,
but so am I.

It seems my glasses don't fit the prescription,
and the emotion is blurred,
just a nonsense description.

I tried contacts one day,
it took hours to get them in,
and realize I was looking the wrong way.

But the contacts weren't strong enough to see,
the blindingly obvious truth,
that you'd always been there to worry about me.

My eyesight continuously deteriorated,
to the point where everything,
or anyone I could see was manipulated.

As it got worse I thought of removing the eyes,
using my senses to see,
but does not love see from the mind?

I thought about lase

Tears of RainSometimes I pretend my tears are raindrops,
flowing freely down my face and stopping at my lips.
There they seep into its roots,
letting the nutrients set in.
A flower blooms there,
delicate as a rose,
yet strong as a wildflower.
This flower is called a smile,
it's beautiful, really.
It can bloom so quickly,
and fade away as fast.
It's colourless at the edges,
but as you search deeper,
the core has a subtle intensity swirling around,
in shades of pallete pinks and reds.
Have you ever seen a smile?
I have, seeing one makes you feel euphoric.
Seeing a real one that is,
the mimicing kind only gives you a slight blast of exhiler

Browse More Like This

More from ~Loveislightblue

Solace of the RainIt's raining,
that kind of misty rain
that kisses your skin,
then fades away with the night.
The weather is always so fickle,
it leaves without a sound,
leaving only trails
of its petrichor behind.
Yet it leaves a screen,
of dew grass and fish-pond puddles,
filled with echoes of the sunset,
the kind that flood my mind.
So I'll wander through memories,
stumbling through, my torchlight burnt out,
'til the rain comes again,
and I surrender myself without fright.

© 2012

I'd Rather Stay in the DarkLife starts and ends the same way; with a bright light.

A. Bright. Blinding. Light.
Like sandpaper grating against my eyes,
and pushing against my face,
pinning me to the ground under its weight.
Until I forget how to....to...
to breathe.

And everything is good again,
that moment where darkness ensues and then,
serenity appears,
and I feel familiar shadows draw near.
Until I remember my eyes are meant to...to...
to see.

Fumbling through the actions of the day,
before my mind is set ablaze,
with fires that sibilate then holler out,
catching onto my clothing, forming hot coals upon my mouth.
With blistered lips, and scorching eyes, I realize

Fireworks-A HaikuI'd nearly lost hope,
when you set off fireworks,
at the edge of dusk.

© 2012

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The Flaws in Perfection

by ~Loveislightblue, Feb 7, 2013, 4:37:10 PM
Literature / Poetry / Nature / Free Verse

When the ocean whispers
in your ear
and the sun stands up
to turn on the lights.
When the trees
heave heavy sighs
as streams cleanse
your body and mind.
When the world is just...still,
so perfectly still.

Then silence is broken
by nightingale cries,
and the night
tears off
its mask of clouds to reveal
the stars hidden below.
Stars scarring indigo skies,
their imperfections,
only making the night sky
more perfect.

© 2012

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The Flaws in Perfectionby ~Loveislightblue

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Day 22 of the 100 day's challenge: Mother Nature.

Hope you enjoy.

Wrote this awhile ago and was waiting for this day to post it.

Nature is always so...pristine, so...perfect in a sense.

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Submitted on: February 7
File Size: 645 bytes

Views: 70
Favourites: 12 (who?)
Comments: 6

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Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

~Contradictory55 Feb 7, 2013 Student Writer

Aw, such lovely imagery! And the descriptions of everything

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~Loveislightblue Feb 12, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

sahdhjsagf Thank you.

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~Contradictory55 Feb 12, 2013 Student Writer

Welcome

Reply

~nuclearfirework Feb 7, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

amazing, once again

Reply

~Loveislightblue Feb 7, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

You flatter me! Thank you.

Reply

~nuclearfirework Feb 7, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

thanks, could you check out my latest journal?

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