[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 arms of your words and
you were unaware that you held me
so close, and so carefully
from the moment I didn't hear 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 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

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

Lovers and assassinsNight
walk

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.

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.

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.

ConstructDelving into the origins
Of what makes an individual
Who are you? Who am I?
There’s a lack of understanding,
Yet we jump to judge
And claim to know
That which we could never understand

Attempts are seldom made
To investigate the unknown
To strive to discover
Those we claim to know
From the inside out
Extract the innermost thoughts

In place there is an idealist mirage
To which our beliefs shall cling to
In desperation, or disbelief

It’s the construct of our mindset
That leads us all astray

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More from ~topazcat511

Whisper to MeWhisper to me in my hair,
Tell me if you're real,
Tell me all the sacred things,
I never thought I'd feel.
Whisper to me in my neck,
Tell me if I'm sane,
Tell me that you miss me,
And you'll hold my hand again.
Whisper to me in my back,
Tell me our love remained,
Tell me that you still care,
And your heart, my words have stained.

The Clockwork Doll's ReflectionThe clockwork doll stumbles home,
She cries oil on her bed,
Falling to the floor she splits her side,
And pulls out her broken heart.

It's large but rusted,
Hardened and dark,
Thorns have grown around it,
A weed with one red bud.

Gasping she fingers the bud,
Its beauty precious and young,
How can something so beautiful,
Bring so much torment and pain?

Placing her heart back in her chest,
She seals the seams and stands,
In the mirror, a human girl cries,
Her brown hair draping down across her arms.

Around her on the floor,
Are scattered papers and sketches.
Swinging from her hand,
Is a ring on a cord.

The clockwork doll ste

You'll Never Catch MeThere,
In the center of the prison,
Sways a starved young woman.
She drifts side to side,
Swinging from her rusted manacles.
"You'll never catch me, my dears," she sings,
"You'll never capture my soul,"
"As long as I still breathe, my dears,"
"My spirit will be whole!"
She chuckles and sighs,
Tears in her eyes,
Staining her irises red,
This acrobatic game she plays,
Fills her veins with lead.
"I will stay here, however long, and you will never see,"
"I can sing, here, in my cell,"
"But, my dears, you'll never catch me!"

The Letter My Parents Will Never ReadThe words just slip through my teeth, now,
They dance out of my throat and coat my tongue,
The lies.
"I'm fine."
"I don't like that anymore"
"I'm still the same person"
"I'm not mad at you"
"Everything's fine"
I've gotten so good at lying, now,
I sometimes can't tell when even I'm telling the truth.
"Sure, everything's good"
"See? I'm smiling"
"I haven't had my first kiss"
"I'm fine."
"I'm fine."
"I'm fine."

You know what?
I'm not fine.
I have to hide my heart from my own parents because they don't understand.
I have to pretend that I'm mad at him and have "repented from my ways".
But in reality, I wait to read his words

I Can Feel YouWhat would you do if I told you,
That at night I feel your skin?
I can smell you again,
But only for a moment.
Memories come flashing back,
Blurred but quick,
Like thunder.
I see your smile,
Your eyes,
Your lips leaning towards mine.
I can feel the way you used to hold me close up against you,
The contact between our torsos.
I can feel the way you placed your hands on my shoulders,
And nipped my ear so quick.
I can feel the way you pulled my hair aside,
The way you kissed my neck,
I can feel every damn thing we did together,
And it's killing me because I feel it each night.
And even though you've never been here,
Beside me

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Submitted: September 1, 2012
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Uncertainty and Doubt

by ~topazcat511, Sep 1, 2012, 2:48:39 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

Does anyone else stand at the edge of the stair and look down,
wondering what it would feel like to never know how far the next step is?
As if you could walk blindly, and fall, sink, down into an un-foretold reality,
Lose yourself in chaos, the bitter chilled unknown…

I stand here now on the edge of porcelain stairs,
Peeking downward through my ebony lashes,
I feel a grip in my spirit,
A sickening wave of dizziness rolls over me,
Knocking me back, nudging doubt deeper into my skin like a poisonous shard.
"Do I step forward? Or do I wait in this haunting pain…"

Biting my lip, wringing my hands, my blood dancing loudly,
I realize my future can only improve from my past,
I have to take these chances,
And play my best bet.

Gripping the glassy banister,
I steal a severed breath,
And…..

Uncertainty and Doubtby ~topazcat511

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

Concerning my fear of the future, and starting my life....comment if you will

love 1 1

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~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

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~swootness13 Sep 3, 2012

I've been feeling this way about a lot of things lately. Knowing that I'm gonna start my life scares my and I hesitate to do something to move forward with it. I keep reminding myself that no matter what, this is my life and I have to learn to live it on my own. No one is ever ready for life, but life is always ready for you. Just gotta keep going forward, no matter what life throws at you.

~topazcat511 Sep 3, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

exactly

~guitarangel1495 Sep 2, 2012

i guess im not the only hesitant person out there, we all worry, but sometimes we just got to take that first step. i mean if we never try we never know where we couldve gotten right?

~topazcat511 Sep 2, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

exactly, but it's still difficult sometimes to take it, because you never know if it's for better or for worse

~guitarangel1495 Sep 13, 2012

thats what u got friends for, to give u advice when u dont know what to do or if it doesnt work out for them to help u thru ^^

~topazcat511 Sep 14, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

yep

~DevlinTheBlack Sep 2, 2012

I know that feeling

~topazcat511 Sep 2, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

~DevlinTheBlack Sep 2, 2012

~WhiteWolf614 Sep 1, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I love this, I love the imagery as well. Even without rhyme, it flowed very smoothly and did not seem forced in any way. Nice!

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Uncertainty and Doubtby ~topazcat511

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