[x]

My EndymionI was never a fond of love;
I never invited it into my bed,
nor gave it my tears.
Not that it would ask.

And yet tears I do now give,
in sacrifice.
To a man who never asked nor incited such feelings.
Feelings that crowd my mind,

And weigh my chest down.
With uncontrolled emotions that spire into fires of passion.
Pretty words seeming so small to describe,
the obsolete moment of truth that banishes dreams for reality.

Oh how the light so gently touches you,
and that smile.
That gives me a smile of my own.
This is a tragedy of situation my friend.

Sorrow for joy;
my dear Endymion.

Hunting Avalon's MoonBeneath a sky of Kings, mortal life quivered
Warm rains spilled a fever of unborn dreams;
— like a silent song of golden pollen falling in
timeless reverie, seeding forests arcane
The dawn of enchantment crested ancient lands,
adorning the hunger of shadows and spirits
Long I stood in the flow of primeval rapture...
where unto the hallowed beckoned wild
I slept in the cradle of Nature's magick,
windswept in feasts of tongue & flame
Dreams and dreamers, in haste I did reap
And I thrusted my sword into the sky
Ever night's bequest, the stars shall not die

Thru seasons of fabled rhythms I roamed;
— my soul etched into the mists

The Intelligent Are So SadA cascade of words parade around,
with thoughts of atoms and connotation.
She is brilliant, they say,
but she knows she is lost.

Numbers are her companion,
she understands their mean, average.
Words can twist her brain,
she loves the wonder they bring.

She is intelligent, they say,
but sometimes,
she doesn't feel clever enough.
Sometimes she feels clever too much.

Excusez-moi, in perfect French,
but nothing is gained by perfect word tense.
She is clever, they say.
But she is not clever the way they know.

She sees things as they are,
and she prefers her thoughts to the world.
She knows she loves them more than they in return

Highway Robberythe stitches run like train tracks across her heart,
but it must have derailed because the only sound is her monitor.
i've been awake for four days and nights just watching her sleep,
afraid if i close my eyes she might slip away without me.

her hands are wrapped in plaster casts
and there's still stained glass buried in her face.
her lips are broken and silent, her eyelids are static and braced,
and she's my angel full of staples, my sunshine.
please don't take my sunshine away.

closed my own eyes for only a second,
woke up on the wrong side of the road again,
your room is suddenly full of nurses and you're flatlining.
their voic

The GiftThe Gift

I came to give you a gift I said as the night shift
As the wind blow the tree swift
You looked at me and did a little sniff
I looked back at you and started at the cliff
If and only if you knew what it was
I will treat you like heaven dose to a dove
This gift didn't cost me much
Just a few dollars no big bucks
Then you looked at me kind of strange
And you think I hope he didn't go to the dollar store and used a few change
I looked at you and handed the gift
And by your looks you looked stranded
I walked to quickly and explained the attire
You just threw it down and set it on fire
I looked at you and called you a liar

Forgotten DreamsI'm so tired
eyes nearly closed
soon to be sealed tightly for dreams to be exposed

Can you see it?
the way they drop like wilting flowers
the lids gently caressing
coaxing my mind into sleep
by cutting off the world

I want to sleep so badly
it is just out of reach
due to the constant thoughts running me in circles
through my head

What of tomorrow
or the next day
am I ready to face everything

Or will my non-existent world come crashing down
shattering into what used to be

Letting the cold seep into my bones
surrounding me with lost memories
and forgotten truths

But my eyes are still drooping
unable to heed the warnings of

The Untold Story of So ManyTangible ringing,
Unmistakable stinging,
Permeates the air.

She sits rocking,
Softly singing,
Clenching her delicate ears.

Fate remains unknown,
The life that she has sown,
No longer will she be able to reap.

Because the bomb hit her home,
Destroyed everything she owns,
Quietly she beings to weep.

Filled with confusion and hate,
She has nothing to do but wait,
Wait for the war to end.

Mother, father, sister--late,
Or are they?--she debates,
With a heart that will never mend.

TeachersTeachers are always the one that reach us
They sometimes be sitting on the bleachers
Cheering us
Sharing us
Class by Class
I love how I go from first to last
They help me past
With a 80 by chance
Notes
I usually study
But I don't do it without my buddy
Teachers are always funny
And some can just be mean and ugly
The chubby ones always sit
The skinny ones always move
The ones with the crazy hair always style got grove
You know it's true I had them ever since the 12th year
And all I can say is nothing ever seems fair.

DreamsWhat wonders the imagination can bring
With opened ear and untamed eye
Dreams that we shall toss and fling
And float about towards the sky

By luminous light of thought
Day and night will awaken newly
And become what you have sought
To find your most distant Thule

Never letting go of that which we cherish
The spirit of innocence and truth
Why without it, what would we but perish?
In the darkness of lost youth

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

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

On the SeafloorUnseeing eyes attracted to unseeing people:
a tidal cycle that pulls me under—
buries me,
beneath salted layers of foam.

I thought mistakes bred solutions—
different methods of hopeful change,
but I lay submerged,
and I subjectively ponder
this warden Loneliness
until my eyes secret watered gallons
to outline saline graves.

I rest in my watery casket of winding seaweed,
and I breathe in the moonlight from peaks of exuberant waves;

I pull the stars over my head, fluff the shell-filled sand
and am finally free.

Maggots in the MorgueIs it the spark or the twinkle in the eye
that I eat?
dreams and hopes now faded
being devoured by my minuscule mouth
all metaphorically of course

I eat the actual eye
dull and glassy
marbles polished with a gray layering of dust
in a now vacant mind

I start at the pupil
a small black hole waiting to swallow me up
maybe I will eat some of the iris too
but not to much
as not to overindulge
considering that is the best part

Brown, green, blue
a mix of all or none
but always different
unique, some may call it
but it all tastes the same in the end

After that I start going straight through
never mind the glossy white surroundi

The Littlest ArtistThis life isn't easy
I weave my work
Wherever I please
But I've been run out
Place to place
Wherever I end up

I've had fans
Who I'm thankful for
Critics that ignore me
But the one thing
That I'll never understand
Are those who hate me

They see me
They destroy my work
They try to kill me
My legs are tired
I can't run
I can hide
But if they find me
I fear the thought

Is it because I'm so small?
In such a big world
Is it because I scare people?
I don't mean too

Or is it because...
...I am merely a spider

Lullaby!Gentle heartbeat old as time
Metronome tempo close to mine.

There at night when claimed by sleep
Early morning hear its beat.

Two hearts quintessentially sing
Melody soft, substance takes wing

Crooning beautifully, no stop or start.
Syncronized rhythmn, beating hearts.

In tune with life, tender lullaby
softly sung like angel's sigh.

2012 Delice1941
11thSeptember2012

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Salt
it's one of those

goldfish bowl empty afternoons,

dehydrated,

gills grasping for water,

fresh daylight

spilling over my aquatic limbs,

so thin boned and cold-blooded,

swordfish lips so sworn to

seahorse secrets,

i cannot see a way out of drowning

in all of this

open air,

my fins lie still

as does my two-chambered heart,

you never actually did need any bate,

i hooked myself,

then released my own salty ghost,

you only just laid me out to dry,

gutted and seizing.

Tender
i am
a taxidermy fawn,
existing yet comatose,

my soul flickers within a lantern,
releasing a smoke with the scent of
pheromones and vanilla verbena,

but your necromantic whispers
linger in my ears,
so sweet and succulent as peaches,

animalistic instincts
give me breath,
filling my lungs upon a full moon,
oh i'd so like to take a bite of you,

you and your jungle bred lips,
tropical to taste,
organic to kiss,

jaguar, leopard spots
cover your skin
in patterns painted by the forest,

then a low, throaty growl
slips from your jaw,
haunting me like a past mistake,

but you are wild bamboo
and the sound of my heart beating,

hey boy, I'm bleeding without you
I guess you could say I've been infatuated with death,
but I'm even more consumed by you
in the deadliest way possible.

HushEmpty doll eyes touched by romantic shadows,
rabies induced lips frothing with hunger,
then a white winged moth on a blood orange dahlia,
the curves of the petals bend like
demented, contorted limbs,
forming trapezoids out of bent knees
and hexagons out of broken arms,
but bodies go limp as the sun dies down,
hips held up by Saturn's rings,
but saved by the moon's melody
and a book on loneliness,
pages fleeting, hearts slowly beating,
tension tightens muscles,
grabbed by hands of a poltergeist
so filthy ghosts fingers make craters along planetary skin,
shaking, shaking, shaking,
too much, too fast,
shhhhhh... shhhhh....sh

I dreamt of a flood and you were the waterLight bulb eyes,
burning through me like
electric currents,

Your waves
crash into me
as I dream,
your ocean spits me out
through seaweed teeth,

and I love you,
but you blink light
and breathe water,
so not only am I blind,
I am drowning.

The Deer with the Broken NeckThe air smells of chlorine and freshly cut grass,
I'm breathing in deep,
rubbing my eyes to wake,
pressing my fingertips to my eyelids
seeing tangerine and crayola red lines
flickering against the pressure;
It's the color of juice from beetles,
dripping from their shells like raspberry jelly,
like blueberry blood (and nothing else).

My ankles
popping against one another like clock parts
while my sweat smells of cucumbers (and nothing else),
and my flesh is being coated in a pastel chalk,
my body then worn down to a fine powder
that can manipulate the sidewalk into a canvas.

The high growing water weeds are
splintering off in

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Submitted: September 9, 2012
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Nocturnal

by ~blackdahlia911, Sep 9, 2012, 12:46:35 AM
Literature / Poetry / Romantic / General / Free Verse

Wrapped up tight by my own wings,
I hang upside down
while the blood rushes to my head
inside my cobwebbed cocoon,

Ultraviolet rays flicker against my eyelids
in colors I have never seen,
yet maybe I have once before,
I saw them the first time your skin brushed mine,
a kaleidoscope of solar energy
making me blind enough to see the light,

Your voice now echoing in a frequency
only I can hear,
it ricochets through my thin bat bones,
lingering along my teeth
so I can taste the way you sound
along the backside of my cavity,

But now you've been bitten
because I have no control,
my incisors sinking in to your handsome heart
because you are ripened fruit
in the dead of Winter
and I am a parasite
in Summer's wake,

If only the day ever met the night
maybe we could meet again,
but for now this must be enough,
so I return to the shelter of my own wings
to protect myself from the sun
and your own astrological luminosity.

Nocturnalby ~blackdahlia911

Literature / Poetry / Romantic / General / Free Verse

_{inspired by bats and the love of someone unattainable}

~BelaRoseWolf Sep 9, 2012 Student Writer

I love the description you used in this poem. It's very well-written, and enjoyable to read. Great work!

~blackdahlia911 Sep 9, 2012

Thank you

~BelaRoseWolf Sep 9, 2012 Student Writer

You're welcome!

~IKingFisher Sep 9, 2012

I like it, you have a lot of good imagery...also bats are awsome

~blackdahlia911 Sep 9, 2012

Thank you very much!

and yes, bats are wonderful!

~IKingFisher Sep 9, 2012

They are indeed! I haven't written much poetry lately, but I should probably start again.

~blackdahlia911 Sep 9, 2012

That's a good idea! It's a good way to release emotion

~IKingFisher Sep 9, 2012

That's what I used it for, had a tough time in highschool and college...wrote most of it then.

I mostly do prose now for the online community I'm with, I'll be uploading more of it to my DA (specifically my work for TheHolders series)

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Nocturnalby ~blackdahlia911

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