Hand of Guidence
#1 of hand poems this is the first of two "hand" poems and the first of much of my poetry which i plan to begin uploading to sf over time.
Restless
#14 of poetry as seen in my writer's blog: http://sirenscoast.wordpress.com/2013/06/07/the-moons-kiss/ **restless** lady luna wraps herself deeper within the cotton sheets deep sighs rush through the trees and tussle the leaves never does she
Technologic
My response to loss of internet generally lies between 'read books, write poetry', and 'set fire to everything while swearing at the omnissiah.' i'm not a very patient person.
Old Wounds
Only he didn't call it poetry," he added grimly, "he called it prophecy." that was getting to be a lot to take in. "holy shit!" the skunk exclaimed. "he made her poetry into a _religion_?" he shook his head.
"Ink and Rage" - WritingGroupChallenge
The second doe, a younger-looking one, wandered over to a display of poetry collections. her long ears twitched, her eyes still glued to her phone as she absentmindedly took a sip from her drink.
IN THE DARK (poem re-upload)
#5 of poetry not a sound can be heard except the rain from outside, i sit here wondering why it's so quiet, does everyone go to sleep or do we just go silent when it's dark, the dark is scary, it makes me feel non existent when i'm
The Rose of Midnight
#5 of poetry the dancing moons a drape of darkness city lights,gleaming gems wandering eyes quieting sighs minds,tranquil warm smiles interlocked fingers hearts,aloof an exchange of words simple and few sweet,sweet ambrosia
I will wait for you.
poetry doesn't need to be beautiful to get your emotion across. time and time i wait. for a word or gaze from you, days and nights passing. with out word from you. just a caring sound from you, simple heartfelt phrase, to hear i love you.
Valentines day gift
My first time trying this version of my haiku poetry. let's see what all you critics think. :p learning what it means, only to have all the doors closed, vainly i waited. everyday i fought, over and over again, finally at end.
Aokigahara in the Winter
#20 of poetry c.2019 a poem about losing someone to themselves. aokigahara in the winter * * * can i maybe talk you through, a brand new point of view - where you aren't as mean, as you have always been?
angels of death
Death, some welcome it. again dark poetry angels of death i call for you. i call for your mighty blow. i call for the rotting flesh. i call for the suffering. i call to end it all, and start the suffering. i call to you. my blood calls it.
The Siren's Hymn: The Pile
#6 of poetry as seen in my writer's blog: http://sirenscoast.wordpress.com/2013/06/03/the-write-setting/ and now she sings the siren's hymn, such fatal chords emit from within. almost 7 years he dwelt with her, sharing her fears and her dreams.