[x]

AstrologicalI have lost myself to
Venus & Mars,
tangled in their mismatched limbs.

Just dream dust & shattered prayers
begging for a new set of skin
(she can't remember where she orbits).

Pluck these fractured wings;
the Sun & Moon no longer ache
to see me fly in their luster.

lies, she wrotei. just a mimicry, really;
uncompromisingly
desperate to shine.

ii. counterfeit & clockwise,
tasting words on her
unworthy tongue.

iii. with a dysfunctional mind
& apocryphal dictionary,
she cannot clone it all.

iv. "say anything," the pen
whispers as she trembles
among ink-scented fraudulence.

v. but she just laughs & plays the part,
forgetting what the pages told her:
"truth is stranger than fiction."

The Pen, The SwordJust lovely
I was happy to fall asleep
in the welcoming warmth of your words and
you were unaware that you held me
so close, and so carefully
from the moment before I heard you speak
to the taste of every sentence you spoke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been seeking all along
Just barely
I was loathe to fall so deep
in the sharpened edges of your words and
you were too aware that you had me
so close, and so carelessly
from the first second I heard you break
to the taste of every sentence you broke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been avoiding all along

Death of the PoetDear poetry,
This is your challenge,
my eternal chore,
to restate the truth
like never before-
but I’m imperfect
at my very core
and hypocrisy
is what I abhor
so you may expect
my work to be poor
enough for me to
be crushed into gore
with failed attempts
to take wing and soar
when all I wanted
was something much more
than emptiness and
inherited war
and pointless details
of imagined lore
which most of us tend
to simply ignore
at the piercing sound
of a lion’s roar
or the convenience
of a nearby store…
what am I truly
writing these words for?
Let’s merely pretend
that this isn’t me
but the voice of God
or L. Ron Hubbard
or whoever you
wish for it to be
since facts remain facts
no matter the source,
no matter the cause,
since the trustworthy
are also humans
prone to failure;
so prone to a fault
that we hold dearly-
the sum of our faith
measured in dollars-
rewarded by credit
and paper money…
for some odd reason
I find this funny!
So I conclude

False EternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.
Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!
Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for the moon
then sought the horizon, again and again warned my father that doom
would befall him if he didn't seek a better way to live and be
I wasn't willing to follow the dark and deadly rules,
trying to bring some light into the lives of these fools.
Guilds of anti-gods were formed, wars rose higher, nothing to atone!
They all represen

ArrheniusThe birds are
keeping to themselves
this evening
as the earth shifts
slightly-
ever so calmly
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have
to move).

Here and there, I
witness these
beautiful strangers
with perfect bodies
and long hair
walking down the road
in tightly knitted packs.
They are animals
like we are animals-
like we are
animals without
claws and fur,
with scratches on our
skin that yields to
fragile and
familiar hands.

The winds respond
as quiet birds rush
from telephone wires
in panic and
in beauty; she
tries to brush the hair
dancing circles in her eyes
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have to move).

False ProphetsPoems and love songs breed dead dreams,
strangled by weeds, face down in the ground
with no roses to mourn them.

Singers are poets that croon
(if you happen to lose your little heart to their tune)
and poets are false prophets -
true love will last forever
if they care to write it,
but not if you swallow the lines...

yet, they always do.

We all have a place
set for us in the shade
in our own private garden of weeds.

False eternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant of the fact that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.

Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!

Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for

Psychotic ramblingsI, in the eternal void rest,
Am the unwanted thirteenth guest,
Insane, deranged and psychotic,
There are people who even call me sick.

Isn't it joyful and greedy to demand
A sacrifice of strangulation at the reach of the hand?
Cure the poisoned in a prison built of mental sand.

Murder is the solution brought by the resolution.
Is this the final, one and only conclusion?
Better think again, there will be no retribution.

Death is not the liberation, just the beginning.
Is there eternal peace? The solution is sinning.
Unacceptable lies become the truth, the chaos keeps spinning.

VoicesDo you hear the moan of morning rhymes
By the people in their endless time
As the morning dew breaks the day
Back to where the city-lights once laid

The lamp-posts are filled with black starlight
As the children run in their flight
With cries of sorrow, cries of pain
The old houses creaking with disdain

Acidic puddles of blood-wet tears
Remain on the street through all these years
As the cracks have hid the crumbled dust
Within these roads of bone and rust

The melody of the birds is lost
To the screeches and screaming loss
There are people cowering in the dark
Murmuring, whispering their tortured remarks

Flames ignite the world in fire

WakefulI remain awake with dreams on my mind
and stories that wait to be knit into books.
To never find comfort until my pillows are
stuffed with thoughts instead of feathers
To never let go until I made sure that
the moon smiled back at me
Until the trees, the grass, and every night creature
has whispered good night...
And yet I'm still as wakeful as an owl
afraid that sleep would somehow
grab my neck and drag me to my grave.

Shared HappinessI like it better when you're happy.
The world feels like a safe place -
A good place to be.

Stay happy, even in the face
of great adversity
I know these last few years have been...

Well, difficult, to say the least.
But as long as your heart shines
I can hear it...

That devilish smile on your lips
the one no amount of miles
or hardships can erase

Remember, I'm always watching
With the eyes of my heart
I see you clearly

And, as long as you are happy
No matter where this life leads me
Then I am happy too.

Watercolor PainWhen you smile,
I turn colorblind.

It turns into a somersault
whenever I gain contact
with your skin,
bare back touching
bare back.

But I'm not hungry
for bedposts.

I just want to
savor each moment your arms
lock into mine,
the romanticism of
the moons in my eyes
and the skies in your words.

There's smoke
behind all those hues
of hazel and your fingers
are porcelain,
but I still love you.

bad nightmy mistakes are on my head,
and the cigarettes taste like metal;
on the street curb of a suburban block,
the lights jaundiced and flickering
like drunken fireflies, your reflection
that emanates from me covers every face.

HumanDear Hypocrite,

What do you do?
Throwing insults when you're insulted.

Dear Coward,

Where went you?
To your "peaceful" sanctuary you have bolted.

Dear Liar,

What say you?
Your poison corrupts innocent ears.

Dear Human,

What are you?
A sinner trapped in endless tears.

Browse More Like This

Download File
HTML, 1.3 KB more ▶

More from ~intricately-ordinary

A Sky of SmogI.
"what if every star out there, twinkling
is every dream that's ever come true?"
she asked me
"but what about the stars that burn out?"
I replied. She didn't respond.
she was too busy searching the night sky
hoping to catch a dream

II.
"what do you want in a guy?"
I asked one day
when our heads were empty,
but our mouths were full of words
we didn't quite know
"I want someone who can understand me"
and she sighed as though it were only a wish.
"Oh," I said
"I just want to fall in love
so all these stories I write
won't be lies"
and we laughed as though it were only a joke

III.
when she first fell in love,
she flew so

Synchronized HeartsWe weep for wounds not yet born
We predict the patterns of storms long gone
Only after it's concrete, do we mourn
We live life expecting the next dawn

We ask for truth yet prefer the lies
We pity the foolish and decry the wise
We sketch blueprints for mountains we can't make
We dismay over bad and think all good is fake

To each his own, we've our selfish desires
The beauty of destruction is all too sought out
We dream for the stars, but settle for fires
We louden cacophonies to silence any doubt

So caught up in answering questions not asked yet,
We die with only one lasting regret-
We know not of who we've become.
Our mirrors a

She is SinShe walks to the beat of our fearful feet
The air grows stale with the scent of her skin
Her lies are her only feature that's sweet

She longs for our weaknesses, what a treat
She gnaws on the hearts and souls of fallen
She walks to the beat of our fearful feet

It's my job to warn anyone she meets
Entranced by her, I tell them "She is sin.
Her lies are her only feature that's sweet."

I continue: "Patterns always repeat.
You must be careful, with her you can't win.
She walks to the beat of our fearful feet."

They deny it, then at last claim their defeat
What they still don't know would make their heads spin
(Her lies are her only

The Loveliest DissonanceI need a guy with a smile so contagious
it would take a vaccination to subdue.
He'll have a brain so deep it could hold the world
and a mind so curious it would try to.
He'll need to be hopelessly optimistic, always searching the skies
in hopes of finding shooting stars, and he'll have dreams for eyes
He'll make the stupidest jokes and laugh at all my quirks
he'll pull silly faces just to try and make me smirk
I need a guy who's thoughtful and slightly crazy
and who sings songs because he believes he lives the words.
He'll prefer a girl who spends hours star gazing
to a girl who spends hours in front of the

Can't You Help Me?"I don't know what to do, I've lost it all. It's at a point where it feels like a miracle I just have a voice. After all the things that have gone, my voice just feels unnatural coming from my empty insides. Still, what good is it when I've run out of things to say?"

"Well," Carol said, turning on her side and recrossing her legs. She searched intently into my face and wrote some notes down. She looked up again, but shut her eyes. "What is it you feel you've lost?" Carol wrung her wrists a few times before noticing what she was doing, and grabbing her water instead. I make her very nervous.

&#

The Words I Wish I'd SaidShe said:
    "No, you have to go.
    I just moved on, it took me
    tears and time and scars I can't get back.
    Do you know how hard it is
    to have your heart dull your senses
    until the line is blurred between
    truth and lies?
    So, even though
    you know you're being dumb
    you're frozen in place-
    you can't move.
    Your heart's too full with

View Gallery

Featured in Groups:

#ThePoetryofDA
DA Poetry Club

#Poets-Refuge
Poetry Poem Refuge Poets-Refuge

#Paint-with-words

#WritersInk
What's your story?

#APictureToA1000Words
Every artist is welcome!

Details

Submitted: October 15, 2012
File Size: 1.3 KB

Link

Thumb

Statistics

Comments: 21
Favourites: 19 [who?]
Views: 229 (0 today)
Downloads: 2 (0 today)

[x]

Deliverance

by ~intricately-ordinary, Oct 15, 2012, 7:17:50 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

an angel drifts at the edge of the sky
with dwindling wings, she murmurs 'genesis'
and extends her fingers to try
and catch the pieces of a broken world

"sometimes we just need to burn
to have a way to light up the night"

the ground collapses upwards, and the
clouds come tumbling down-- the stars
awake and smile, they set fire to
desiccate all blinded faith

the masses watch on; glazed eyes,
broken spines, excised tongues-- they
are seduced by the twinkling lights

"destruction breeds beauty and
it seems to go both ways"

as the day decays, their time shatters
until those knuckle-dragging fools
find broken moment shrapnel
deep within their flesh

and the oceans scream out,
washing over their wounds to prove
it can never happen again

"if you have guilt, don't
you think you might deserve it?"

the moon eclipses and the angel
decides the battle was lost
long before it began

she kisses the remnants
of a forsaken land, tenderly

"in the end,
we all
die
alone"

Deliveranceby ~intricately-ordinary

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

For the Theme of the Month Contest.

"Deliver me from reasons why"
The sweetest goodbye, in my mind, is when even innocence abandons you.

~TehPassenger Oct 17, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Awesome

~intricately-ordinary Oct 17, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you so much!

~Contradictory55 Oct 16, 2012 Student Writer

Oh dear...everything collapses towards the middle and chaos would ensue were people not blinded by their own needs...

~intricately-ordinary Oct 17, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

sometimes falling apart is inevitable. Chaos is as reliable as normality, in that sense.

~Contradictory55 Oct 17, 2012 Student Writer

That's very true.

~sirweston Oct 16, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

While you stretch the imagery on occasion (seriously, "insipid wings"?), on the whole a perfect fit for the theme and a great poem.

~intricately-ordinary Oct 16, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

...I changed that phrase, now D:

~sirweston Oct 16, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I feel like you're your harshet critic, but I like to send a little contsructive criticism your way.
Sorry for the errors. I'm typing from an e-reader.

*UnspecifiedUnknown Oct 16, 2012 Writer

^{"destruction breeds beauty and
it seems to go both ways"}

~intricately-ordinary Oct 16, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

all the prettiest things are disastrous in their own way

More from ~intricately-ordinary

Featured in Groups:

Details

Statistics

Deliverance

Deliveranceby ~intricately-ordinary

The Journal Portal

Polls

What is your preferred drawing software?

deviantART [dee·vee·un'nt·ART]

Keep in Touch!

Deviousness

Add Media

Style