As drifting waters, Days pass by.
AurumA false charade of dancing masks,Aurum by ~crazy4surf
An intricate ballet,
Performed in a most convincing fashion.
Brilliant gold flashes in the peripheral,
Momentary image of an elegance surreal.
Dashing, he follows.
Through majestic ballroom crowded,
Dancers ignore his haste,
Squirms through, a singular purpose.
Grand corridor ordained with finest silver,
He see's her face,
Suppresses a shiver.
Brilliance of gold covers face and hands,
Her hair too, even strands.
With trepid step he approaches this anomaly.
Smiling sadly she says,
"please hold me"
A caution flashes, quickly suppressed.
Reaching with trembling hands,
Her eyes are there, but
Lost LoveLove...Lost Love by ~crazy4surf
A malevolent lie,
Well concealed trap, snapped shut by the slightest tremor.
tearing limb from body,
Driving mind from sanity.
You were so sweet,
caused purpose in a life formerly empty.
If only empty it had remained,
If only loves kiss, this soul had not enjoyed.
My very character, it destroyed.
I begged, pleaded, groveled, trading dignity for hope...
There is no mercy in the heart of love,
No light for which to grasp,
I saw no future, Hated my past.
Like a drug Love caused euphoria, elation.
Temporary was the effect, I searched for more,
I only found neglect.
Search as I might, crave as
SinkingClutching to a sinking vessel,Sinking by ~crazy4surf
Water submerging hopes and dreams.
Thunder screams with a pounding treble.
Waves bent on destroying by any means.
A love lost, children forsaken.
Now grasping to a memory fading.
Once a man but no more, everything's taken.
With ignorant determination he keeps fast hold.
It was an outcome expected,
How can you not reap what you sow?
Now suffering taunts. "there's nowhere for you to go."
Redemption is not in conventional means.
Just remember hopes and dreams.
Live your life as a man should,
Never say, "if only I could."
A life determined LIVE.
Time wasted, do not entertain.
Perhaps your soul,
Wait For MeThe way that you smile,Wait For Me by ~crazy4surf
For its warmth I'de run many a mile.
Laughter so sweet,
Like a never ending treat.
Eyes as deep as pools,
I'm sure all men, they turn into fools.
Delightful nothings spoken for ages,
Like a good book that never runs out of pages.
As much as I yearn,
we cannot be together.
I have too much to learn,
Would you wait for me forever?
Forgive me for leading you on.
But it was not an elaborate con.
I have feelings for you,
One of the lucky few.
Truth is, you will likely be taken.
For other men will not be mistaken.
They'll see all your perfection, even in your flaws,
And come running to the cause.
I must so
La Petite MortI’ve tried to find that placeLa Petite Mort by ~oracle-of-nonsense
in the coastal-plains forest
where he took it,
that first time
when I shivered
in the Southern summer
and couldn’t meet his eyes,
but it was always secret
and now it’s lost
down the twists and turns
of narrow roads.
I only remember scratching bites
for weeks, little red reminders
of what I’d lost in the pine straw.
Later, it was never
rolling waves of hot pleasure
or toe-curling, mind-melting anything,
so I started to think I was broken,
that he’d broken me.
I stopped caring –
Men were built like mountains
and trees and draft horses
and I liked the smell of them.
They would c
Missing: One Hearti lost my heart in third gradeMissing: One Heart by ~Turtledove21
It ran away while I was
slaving over what
seven times eight is
how to tie my shoes.
I didn't notice as you were
down the halls
around the playground.
you brought it back to me
I told you to keep it,
since I would only
lose it again
So you tucked it away,
"I didn't mean to"
you said as I
swept up the shards
threw them out.
It didn't matter though;
a heart can't be fixed
with Scotch tape
What are you doing?You with the motley heartWhat are you doing? by ~ExistenceWeSummonYou
of patched together prayers
to other people's gods,
of quilted love songs from lovers
you never loved,
what are you doing
with all that flesh
by hunger in the morning, by hunger
the limbs lifted
into the posture of industry
and all those words,
whispers that wander
and give up
in the air between us
and the flush
of ambition, of ambition swelling
until the pop
what are you doing
with this poem.