My Poetry Blog: A Mix of Genres and Poetry Styles
Dancing on the rain
Without a care in the world.
Drop to drop,
Step to step,
In tune with the uncaring clouds,
And the beat of those longing heart strings.
It all leads to you.
And here we are:
Our heads held high,
Facing the sun in the sky;
Basking in the never ending beams of light
That only meet our eyes.
If home is where the heart is,
I’ve lost my heart not so long ago.
I’m asked,
Does it feel like home yet?
And I wonder,
Can’t they see this bloody hole in my chest?
It hasn’t healed over,
There’s been no stitches,
Not even a disinfectant.
I can see the infection,
Gnawing away at raw flesh.
Some days there is restoration,
Some nights there is none.
No comfort,
Rest,
When all that keeps me awake is a deep longing.
Alas,
It’s a reason to live.
To be whole,
Grow a new heart.
An instrumental paradox-like chaos.
Laws and logics,
But gravity fails at times.
My thoughts swirling through the clouds,
Thoughts of joy linger on the whites,
Sadness on the grey,
And in a thunderstorm all is consumed.
Each storm ends in ambiguity,
Will there be sunshine,
Rain,
Another day of winds,
Twists and turns?
To take the reigns of a horse,
Galloping at a frightening pace without a pauze.
To fly down to a peaceful place,
When the thoughts’ energy finally runs out,
And sleep embraces me.
Obsecure dreams,
Subconscious processing of the relevant and irrelevant,
Before my eyes open to a sunny day.
I will the winds to be still,
And so they are.
But there is a terrible wrongness about it all.
The leaves shouldn’t be eternally motionless.
They should wither,
Dry up,
Be blown away into oblivion by winds that shan’t remember them.
Then new leaves will grow,
Bear fruit and bloom for all to see;
Welcome the sun and its seemingly endless energy.
Whether it’s a day where the leaves are blown away,
Or where my thoughts have been led astray;
I know it will be okay,
At the end of the final sunny day.
Time Taken: 17 minutes
A rumble as mighty as the roar of an ancient god,
Approaching with giant haste in a quiet contrast.
A green open field,
Yellow flowers growing where they see fit,
As the sun still permits,
Before it too must give way.
The wind becomes a gale,
The swallow flies low,
And a lone tree calls for me.
To lay myself down in its cool shade,
Rest a tiresome body.
Let a storm blow over,
At the price of its eternal constant when giving in.
A rose-scented thought so tempting,
But alas,
I stand on two feet that are not my own.
Flowers shrink away,
A mighty choreography of harsh winds and freezing rain,
As thunder strikes!
Flaming white bolts of fatal fire crash down around me,
Mighty explosions crash through enormous mountains.
Split in half and made anew,
And the storm finds its satisfaction in the chaos.
It now moves,
Blows away,
Over the oceans,
Dissipates,
Its purpose fulfilled.
The flowers show their face,
And a warm sun appears once more.
It feels kinder
than before.
Time Taken: 26 minutes
This descent into the dark Abyss.
The fog thickens,
The birds cease their songs of joy;
As the sky above is still oh so bright,
My fingers reaching,
Wishing for its touch.
For the touch of a cold breeze,
To hear even a faint whisper,
To smell the red roses,
Anything…
Anything indicating a beating heart.
Anything that reveals life,
A breath,
A shout,
A scream of desperation.
But now there is nothing at all.
Only silence,
As the lifeless fog touches my skin;
Covering every inch,
Penetrating my soul.
My eyes look up,
As the faint light
Disappears.
Time Taken: 5 minutes
Lethargy,
A creeping devil lying in wait.
Mind occupied with dreams,
Rest.
An awakening,
And the foreign entity with evil intent enters in to fill the void of dreams.
You should stay in bed today,
You can have your new beginning another day.
You don’t need nutrion for your body or soul.
You can trust me.
You wouldn’t lie to you,
Would you?
Time Taken: 9 Minutes
The two gold fish in a clear pond,
Swim in an eternal circle,
In an ever so passionate dance.
A lush green forest surrounds the body of water,
And lives off the energy radiating off the gold fish their love.
A brown deer grazes gently on one side of the pond without a worry in the world.
A frog’s croak can be heard above the sound of a placid breeze.
The bright sun shines down into the clearing,
As the trees allow it to touch the life inside.
But,
One day,
The rhythm of one fish,
Is off the beat of their hearts.
The frog’s croak is silenced as the wind rustling through the trees escalates in speed.
The trees grow out their branches,
And there is a slight darkness in the clearing.
The fish cease their dance,
Though one persists.
He swims,
Though he knows that the dance all thought eternal was only mortal.
The life is drained out of the trees,
As the once green leaves,
Full of life,
Turn to dust.
The frog and deer can only look on,
As one gold fish desperately tries to keep swimming.
But it is too late,
As he is alone,
In his pond of desolation.
Time Taken: 24 Minutes
Friend’s Blog: spokenincursive.blogspot.com
The blue sky,
With few pale clouds lingering in its clutches.
Stretching far into the distance,
It holds even the mighty sun.
Then at its end,
On the horizon,
It meets his twin that could not be more different on the inside.
Smaller,
Slightly more blue.
Full of life.
They meet,
And create a tapestry of creation.
Time Taken: 6 Minutes
Friend’s Blog: spokenincursive.blogspot.com
Complete relaxation and contentment,
As an image in my mind.
It is not the most luxurious cruise,
Or being sprawled out,
Basking in the sun on a tropical beach.
My personal image of contentment:
A room where the only light is that of the setting sun.
And the only sound is our breathing.
A beige couch that contrasts the lively colours the sun carries inside.
A blanket that is too big,
But it’s our favourite one.
A half-eaten pizza,
A dog sleeping on his bed,
A cat draped over my lap.
And my other half so closely by my side,
We may as well be one.
Time Taken: 7 Minutes
Friend’s Blog: spokenincursive.blogspot.com
This mighty wall looming in front of me,
I am but a porcelain tea cup,
Fragile,
Small.
It stops even the sun’s light,
And now all that covers me,
Is darkness.
And oh but in a twist of realization,
The creator of this mighty thing,
Is me.
I am the architect of this,
That I have placed in front of myself.
I lay my hand on the cold stone.
I close my eyes
A deep breath.
As it crumbles to dust,
And I am set free.
JD Poetry 