[x]

a camera empties itself
of moments
as of faces

the implicature
is your face
reflected
past

the future
exi(s)ts

in that
glance

developed

when you wish you had-n't-stringing your eyes with garlands of stars i
wish to impeach you, maybe impregnate you
with a will to breathe
(in
deep)

but what are you but an incoming breath
to me? an unapologetic zephyr gracing
my inner vineyards

ruffling the leaves with whispers

(i understand it
isn't so collapsible, and
i'm forgetting i forget
you)

but when the winds turn
you're a harlot, ruining this year's
yield of self
(importance and confidence)

and i'm understandably drinking
up
down
the vinegar left

trying to breathe in the lights
i gift you with - always

and i have only the stars
to thank,
the stars to blame.

Love Letters: 080811six sighs in a half a second
breed ten times the bright inflection

twenty questions
tacked on the vast unmentioned

have we overdefined
our discreet dimension?

tension born of birthrights in question
due to one out-of-turn ascension
to the heavens

inventions of a dark night
immense

penned with stark eyes
in greener tints

flint-skinned with a penchant
for stringent applications
of torching intense
unseen by the gathered audience

but the world
is in need
of sense

so we redesign our vows
before the new day
is spent.

BeatI wonder if Bukowski -
when compared to writers -
felt like just a man.

AstronautHold on,
though my skin is flayed,
my hands are torn, their tendons
barely kissing the bone,
I hold on.

This is the price you pay
for kissing the sky.
And I gladly
blossom the storm.

A man gets a finite amount
of shots at the firmament.
Saving them won't make his death
keep kindly at bay.

Shoot for the blue and the black,
no need for wings to travel the void,
your mind will be lighter than air,
your body warmed in the glow
of her hair.

Live your life like a line,
or sing and sine the waves.
You rise, you fall, and you
peak -
BLAST off and simply
hold on.

dog poo in spring.

an oak's fallen clothes
pulp thawing on the walk
i ponder death - shit

.

prying fingers from your headPalpable violets like wool:
(you slam on the breaks and i slam my teeth together
or
you pretend that you're not looking and i pretend that my spine is the horizon
or
you love her like some resistant deity without arms and i love her like the shaken hands that chiseled her from dead biology
or

maybe you don't)

To be Plath in my mind-
my head resting on fumes
rather than in the hands
of some man's rippling
sincerity.

inter aliaoften you find your fingers
fumbling over the ineffably
curious rise of your hip bo
ne, pallid and fragile like t
he first silk a spider's eve
r spun                        :

your bones plead out agains
t your skin as you constant
ly remind yourself, in stutte
ring gropes and hushed re
flexes, that you're almost t
here, almost absolute and
edging towards existence -

because when he steals your

song,o wretched intestines of
stuttering inexorable
desire

don't wrap fingerlike
,seething in the
places he knew
best

and when my knees
continue to unexist
quietly unfettered and
featherless

pretend that i would
never exist
malodorous of unthinkable
bliss

She cried. I thought,She cried.
I thought,"
i'm not su
re that sh
e'll ever k
now;"Plea
se,Please

don't

imagine my surpriseI c
an
f
eel my
self pour
in
g (it
is
n't
an ex
cus
e) a
not
her
d
oppel
gang
er (yes,
I ex
ist eve
ry
wh
ere) d
own t
he pipes
(a
ll
type
s)
a
gain.

CombustionThere is no going
down untrodden roads;
if a path exists
it has been travelled.

The pioneers burn ahead,
glowing spearheads piercing
unexpected passages
in the dead of dark.
You and I also smoulder
in secret places.
Every human body
uniquely flames if sparked.
If we fear to flare
we lay ourselves to rest
in the downtrodden earth of generations;
nameless sooty embers,
skeletons and dust.

Home is where the hearth is,
and our cinder beds
hinder every clammy finger
of winter cold from clawing
at our throats. Our threats
imprisoned in envelopes,
in phone calls, feeble
in the collective unconscious.
We leashed the wild
but

CorrosionAll cloud grey -
half the light
shines dull and ashen
and still we paint
our homes in
rust and skeleton.

All squares, cloud grey
and ochre saliva -
we hollow our world
like termites searching
for cave comforts.
Sky blue ceilings
are unicorn in abundance.

The ice breaks our walls
like old and brittle bones.
It may be a lesson
on flexibility.
It may be a lesson
on our nature.

The water runs deep
through the cracks.
Inside we corrode,
kings and queens of
ochre hollows,
skeletons and rust.

catalan nighti fall between the sticky sheets
like rice paper on the roof of your mouth
when you bite into a white rabbit

ma-doggive me a piper, judas

i'll give you a coin and you
can tear a page
out of me

your children, nestled
warm inside your paranoia,
smile with the fervour
of television

(i do not meet them
in the present)

what are we but
unsung hearts?

harkening to
a flame under
the spoon

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an eclipse of thought

by ~saturnineguise, Nov 2, 2008, 11:01:25 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

if the moon were full
and you were running
with me, up and down
those hallways

tell me,
would you be
frightened?

an eclipse of thoughtby ~saturnineguise

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

i think, maybe, you know. how fittingly vague of me.

(it is short, it was far longer, but i thought, 'oh well, don't try to repeat yourself.' no, i do not talk to myself like that. it was only for dramatic effect.)

Hello. I've been gone a while...

~musashi2476 Jan 24, 2009

"those hallways"

I love how you allow so much interpretation.

~BubbleRoseyPosey Jan 8, 2009

Makes me think of werewolves....
I know that's a bland interpretation.

~y0urstalker Dec 10, 2008

"She turned to me as we made our way through the darness and said, 'When you're walking at night, do you ever get creeped out and even through it's silly and embarrassing you just want to run home?'

It seemed too secret and personal to admit to a virtual stranger, but I told her, 'Yeah, totally.'

For a moment, she was quiet. Then she grabbed my hand, whispered, 'Run run run run run,' and took off, pulling me behind her."

~Dancing-Naked Nov 23, 2008 General Artist

excited

~irvon Nov 13, 2008

This reminds me of something I've recently written.

I like it, you sketch a single strong image in so little words.

~Loveyoutoo Nov 9, 2008

Hello.I've missed you for awhile.

So much has happened while you were away.

Say you won't leave again?

~neon247 Nov 9, 2008

Short and sweet, what more needs to be said.

Im curious of the extended version but im sure it was disconnected for a reason.

This really made me want to write a song lol.

Nice one.

`YouInventedMe Nov 7, 2008 Writer

xo!

~MissUnderstand Nov 5, 2008

I like it.
Your title got the song "A total eclipse of the heart" stuck in my head.
But I don't know the words.

(I do talk to myself like that... Sometimes.)

!IAmPhoenixMoth Nov 3, 2008

You have, and you've been missed.

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