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LonelyI look at the stars
Hoping to see something
Looking back at me.

But its just echoes
Of dead and dying
Suns and worlds.

Nothing's listening,
Nothing's speaking,
Nothing really cares.

There is no design,
No grand plans to
Make the universe spin.

There's only darkness,
Suffocating and cold,
Consuming the light.
Resting In NatureGreen leaves, soft wind,

The gentle whisper of the breeze.

Frogs croak, Birds sing,

The water reflects the warmth of the Sky.

Calm breathing, light sighing,

The boy and the girl lie calmly in the grass.

Midday Mildness, Soft shade,

Trees provide the greatest shields.

Light shifting, kind yawning,

The Lovers stir in their sleep.

A summer day to never forget.

A nature orchestra providing the lightest music.

A day shared, Hands linked,

The lovers sleep in peace.
You always tell me the same storyHe's in love with a scene from the winter
that occurs on a trip to Washington,
when the dark is constant and the trees jog
like legends alongside the highway;

as his eyes fall half-sleep but his senses remain
taut and vigilant, sweating on the wheel,
pitching nerve to the sound of branches cracking,
bristling under his wind-torn jacket;

the time of evening when the sunset rests
at its very highest, bright and sudden as Heaven,
an aureate glow around the birdsongs,
the stench of roadkill muted by a golden frost;

a taste of nirvana,
an instruction of faith,
the blatant existence of God,

lost as soon as he rounds the bend.
ugly hungerI.
 
the wolf in her
heart is whimpering
like a pup hungry
for pure milk
but all it is given
is blood--thick
and warm in a
foreign way
one that isn't the
love of a mother
or love of any kind.
II.
in the dry shade
lies the beast of eden,
her heavy jaw slack
from gnawing rotten 
fruit and he is saying
with sweet, red skin 
between his teeth
she was asking for it--
how her thin fingers 
wrapped and pulled
and plucked at the forbidden-
ness, this is no confession
he hisses like the snake
in his heart.
III.
we are all victims 
says god
On days like thisOn days like this,
I like to think
About just how lucky I am.

How lucky I am
To have food
And a roof over my head.

How lucky I am
To have a beating heart
And air in my lungs.

How I lucky I am
To even have been born.
Imagine...

Out of every sperm and egg,
And every unknown miscarriage,
I survived. We all did.

That in itself is amazing.
Then add on that life itself
Is amazing and wonderful.

How many systems
Must work in tandem
To keep me alive?

If one single DNA strand
Were to replicate wrong
My life would be irreparably damaged.

If my temperature is off
By just the variance between in and out,
I die.

These things astound me.
Every c
the weather latelywhen i tilt my glass up,
dregs of iced tea powder
become an orange starscape,
an eclipse wrought with holes;
summer, beautiful and searing.
Lookingwhy do we as human beings
ignore what is placed before us
at our feets
in our hearts

i want to be apart of nature
dissolve into the endless stretch
of baby blue skies
lift off in nimbus clouds

and when i want
gently float back down
ReptileBy design, I survive hiding, quiet;
carnivorous.
I am my fangs, or my claws, or my muscle;
alien from accepted.

Please, do not forget,
my cold blood seeks heat.

The softness of scales surprises the skin
of ignorant fingers.
RandomSiren sing me that beautiful
song of love, death and tragedy.
of war that was outplaced by love
are other things. Oh siren sing me
that song that has kept you singing,
the song that kept you breathing, the
song that every man, woman and child
would like to hear.
The Little BirdI used to have a bird

He sat on my shoulder

His songs comforted me day and night

Every time I opened his cage my heart filled with delight

For he was my only company

But then one day he flew out the window

I shouted and called his name

Until the night was gone

Sometimes if I play a song he would come to me

But when he did not come my eyes filled with tears

For I thought he had gone to the place in the sky

At least he was in a good place if he was or was he?

After days of not finding him I gave up and sat with a piece of bread

My eyes were bloodshot from nights of looking

Then I heard something familiar, was it him?

True enough
LacusSunlight glistens off the top of the lake;
Fish swim beneath the cool, crystal waters,
And the wind chops at the surface,
Breaking, for a moment, the reflection
Of the azure ocean above.
Morning CallMorning Call
Sudden shower
Lying half-awake in bed
The soft, tender form of my darling touching me
To my delight, the trill of the bugle
The tumult of the rifles
Had been stilled by the rain
The only sound i heard
Through the soft, quiet swish of my fan
Was the soft and silent swish of the late summer rain
I lay in bed to listen
Until 9 AM
light is dark and dark is lightHave you eaten from the fruits of insanity?
have you not yet bitten into the bitter sweet fruit of sins that lay upon truth?
or are you still living in the safety of a lye,
for I have moved on
while you are still hiding in the blackness of the day
I am bathing under the light of the shade
and though you are blind by the hellish suns rays
I can see
So I will take you by the hand and lead your wandering soul down the proper path of darkness
not the path of son and truth but the path of lies death and gloom
for this is the path of safty
this path was built for you...
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More from ~delliversagain

Lost in GeneralityDenim cold
Further away each day,
Less to say, then a little less new.

You and the left side of your face
and your diagonal stare poisons me
like diazanon to an ant on a hill of pills
as its slows me into a snail on trail of hail.

It's feverish because  all is void
except the abstract you who I always knew
but soon disappears into a swoon
wrapping me like a cocoon.

My feelings a filling from head to toe
spiced inside like a flying burrito,
lost in generality, hiding in the reflection of your hair.
Poetry for FunToday everything turned into dots,
The negative no's, doubts and "nots"
What's gray when the day's light
clashes, crashes, smashes, dashes
away, with sway, run dismay,
maybe we'll see where this all leads to.

Not that I'm following,
too busy falling behind,
where it's quieter.

So quiet everything stops.
An Elevator ConversationWe were both at the bottom beyond
Six feet under and as we exited our
eyes met.  Again.

I was asleep.  Her mind faster than electric.

It was the marriage of lighting kissing desert
as my eyes were sand tears and her
optimism a burning sparkle of spears.

She commented on hearing some noise.
I suggested the sound was my car's
air conditioning while pondering how
noise separated us and how I could
not hear what she said because she
spoke too quickly.

We both proceeded upwards.

We spoke about nothing and felt safe
with each other's presences.

I said "See you"
Surprisingly she replied, "See you" too.

I guess that's relationship
It's Safe for a Change
a rat runs underneath a van somewhere
near a bush in an industrial site,

Oakland's bright blue today
So are you in your unwrinkled clutter

Linda, just another stutter,

further,

away than a whispered shutter that cannot be
heard yet contains the answer to all that
has slid and sunk into the gutters,
all dried out today
and Lake Merrit is filled with gray.
angry people who place you in perspective.

Makes me fold myself away,
enveloping that of you
which you shared to me.

Not much though, like how drops of water
disappear in between stones and dry sands withered hotter

nowhere
near this new year already gone ground.
This Day Like AnyBeard stubbles double the bubble of recollection,
above the cold in ice,
not so old sort of nice,
how in between gates there's resurrection.

Maybe Jesus is when thoughts die away,
and become forgotten in text,
like alcohol embedded in rum,
what's next?

Today, such a speculation,
rationed luck and forgotten suspicion,

The engine of opportunity works on many levels,
The sins of whim intertwined with gifts of evils,
Bedeviling it is.

Even I'd admit that watching Arsenal in Kennedy is a stretch.
Nothing to nothing, the usual topsy turvey since seen while sitting on a bench.
Family Fun
The blue sky melted nostalgia before my watery eyes.
Everything turned into a river of smeared lavendar,
Grass stung by bees, cars became camouflaged
in the blur of this hallucination.

Paper plates, noodles, water bottles, trash cans;
it was all spiritual.  4 candles turning wax into tears.  
In sum wells accumulated from those to come years.

I saw familiar eyes staring at me,
apparently the eyes recognized me.

or

could it be a volcano?  The paranoia I felt.
She kept asking me questions as if she cared.
I couldn't care to assimilate.

It was too cold to not appreciate the blue
in the sky staring back down at me like
an ocean ev

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August 1, 2012
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Negative Particles

:icondelliversagain:

Heaven upside down
How cool bliss flakes
shiver into rotting coal
reflective foil

wrapped, intertwined in a coil,
without form,
withered a storm and flicker,
faith imploded

devalued, jaded

land and become tar and feathered
how bold
to know that every story
shines, flows, and rusts

to trust this injustice
is to appreciate the lair
the only direction to which anything
can at all--> fall
:icondelliversagain:
abstract and absolutely negative

an impressionist painting in words of a black hole when it is home.
:iconvespera:
`vespera Aug 9, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
"an impressionist painting in words of a black hole when it is home" so cool
Reply
:iconadagiobreezes:
~adagiobreezes Aug 1, 2012
I like the way the poetry builds up an image and then destroys it over and over.
Reply
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