[x]

softenedthe sky whispers,
ribbons of crystalline quiet,
same shade as the angel dust
you shivered every time we were
alone.

in the darkness, we were
sorry birds searching for
open dawns. you, the
swan, me, the
raven,
black as night and
just as hopeful.

and there were poems
written in your skin, universes
blooming in your hands; your eyes
were a December sunrise saving me
from any sleep.

I’ve decided that
people are a composition of
all their greatest memories—and you,
you were always the most
beautiful piece of
me.

Two SoulsCould I touch a silent thought?
Could I know the colour of a word?
Could I hear the universe full of stars?
Could I hold the sea in my arms?
Could I stroke your voice?
Could I live in your heart?

A song never sung
A paper never drawn
A game never won
A man never loved

A flower that moves
A bird on my hair
A tree always blue
Spring
one love
two souls
my world
and you.

AirI want to lose myself
in an illogical need
for love.

I want to remember
to forget
how to breathe.

What is Air
if not you?

Pull Me ClosePull me close
Hold me tight
Tell me silently
That it’ll be alright

‘Cause when you’re near
I feel my heart beating,
When I see you
I feel alive,
When you hold me
I know it’s OK,
And I revel in feeling
The sound of you breathing
With your heart right next
To mine.

The Mosaic and The Wanderer.Yes this whole has been beaten down, broken now in decrepitude.
Scattered, thrown here or there by wanders kicking loose pebbles.
A stranger strolls and sees a stone to keep for his own collection.
He didn't hear the rubble cry as another part of them is stolen.

That was the day the sky turn gray with a storm of unknown magnitude.
Flooding rain washed what pieces remained into a shallow puddle.
In sediment they settled, put back together by this muddy concoction.
As the day exsiccates a mosaic is made and a soul has been awakened.
A woman rises from the sand to search for a man, and the part of her he's taken.

He loves to stroll and walk alone, his thought always so bestrewed.
Wander, meander where time doesn't matter. He's tired of a constant dribble.
Remembering the trinket he reaches in his pocket, and is startled with a pulsing motion.
Pulling out hi

Lesbian first kiss~laying together, on the bed.
Not touching, I go closer in
Snuggling into you a bit
I play with your cheek,
you play with my hair

I go closer and snuggle..
This time my head
is gently on your shoulder
You snuggle back into my neck
Looking at your face, then your eyes
Your eyes are looking at my lips
I gently grab your chin and lift

I can see your face in perfect view,
you get scared and look down..
I reassure you with a hug.
Look back into your eyes
grab your chin and kiss..

I can feel our lips tremble,
frightened; wanting more
Slowly but gently kissing
explosions of emotions
Beams of sweat on palms
We part away for a second

We kiss again with more confidence
touching each others bodies
stroking slowly, at each others curve

I LoveDear Lover,

I love what we have,
And not what we need,
Or should be:

Strong,

Whole,

Or perfect.

I love the way we function,
When we're nearly dead,
The way you:

Hit me,

Scream,

Or punch.

I love the way my heart thuds,
When I relinquish the sweet air
In exchange for:

Your breath,

Your toxic fumes,

And I choke.

I love it,
I love it,
I love you.

Sincerely, the Heartbroken

Condemned AloneI always fail in love;
No matter the man I'm with,
He will leave eventually.

My heart rarely smiles
Ripped apart like a curtain
Of memories that
Fades with morning light.

And if I put my trust in you,
Will I regret it, only time will know.

Inside, I seethe
In rage, crying.
Why am I built
To spend a
Lonely eternity?

I'm not sure what to believe;
All these years exposed to lies,
I am filled with bitterness.

I am their puppet;
Strings attached,
They reduce me to worthlessness
Incapable to thrive.

Too scared to leap beyond the moon
Where lovers reside in harmony.

Inside, I seethe
In rage, crying.
Why am I built
To spend a
Lonely eternity?

~Love~Love is like power
its strong but can only last so long...

Many people believe there is a red string connected with your soul mate
But strings can snap eventually...

Golden hearts connected together.
Then to rust and break...

love can make you happy and positive
but also sad and negative
very regretful too...

But pay close attention, you'll only get this once.
Pick your partner carefully.
They may just pick your forever..

♥

Desirable SweetnessSkin is so soft so sweet, for it melts in my mouth like chocolate, it makes me wonder if you have ever

Been in love before, for I am eager to know if anyone else has been able to taste your desirable churned

Sweetness, for it makes me quite jealous for someone else has touched you first, seeing your hidden

Away treasures when hearts flourish and beat as one, as the lights dim to see such gloomed pleased

Eyes in an embowered place, in which empowers the sweet aroma of the occasion, such sweetness

Haunts my very soul, and has relished in the faery power of my unreflecting love……

Snapshots of usthe grass doesn’t grow here;
it’s all picket fences and five millimetre lawns
but ours is a jungle, guarded by thorns
as we entwine, anchoring each other
sunshine bathed and blurry
with Narnia tucked behind the beehive

still we’d rather be nomadic than settle
(we are blinkered but bolting)
and smoke and mirrors have more substance than
this hushed hunting for the other shoe
and the lipstick stains on your collar

it feels a little incestuous
but we chose the second circle
and dark matter is a time-bomb, ticking
so I sink into you again (and again)
rooting for salvation beneath your husk
and hoping we’ll find right

rippleshow many ripples you can cause
in the ocean of someone's heart,
each person has a tidal system they must abide and sometimes,
(even though you know better than to fight the waves)
you can't help but fool yourself into thinking
you can dive a little deeper.
(even though you're running out of air already)

and i am already becoming an expert in
clasping my hands together just right
so that it feels like someone else's fingers
interlaced with mine,

i know how to drape one leg over the other
to make it seem as though it's your ankle touching my foot
i press my back to the pillow beside me,
pretend its more than
just my body warmth heati

That Thing Called LoveA moment
A kiss
This feeling
A wish

A gesture
A touch
These feelings
Too much

Descriptions
Depictions
No words
Can be written

This love
A thought
This knowing
Is enough

Star-kissed SpineShe has this air about her
that I don't quite understand.
It's as if her spine is the night sky,
caressing the heavenly bodies
of the planets on her skin.
Ivory skin,
like that of a porcelain doll.
She is fishnet and lace,
black and white,
and all the in-betweens.
I'll take her star-kissed spine
and she can have my battered rib cage,
my sore, slow heart
if only she'll take them.

A girl walked into town.A girl walked into town.
Silent and new, she had no place.
No familiar faces shone
upon her silent shores of
nervous indifference.
Friends, they told her.
You've got to get some friends.
As if, she scoffed, it was that easy.
No, this newness was good but it was
Lonely.
And each new branch
she tried to grow, to reach out,
hurt with the growing pains of
childhood.
Uncomfortable.
Burning.
An introvert doormat in a callous world.
But how could it be so enticing?
So welcoming?
Late August, a friend blew in
from the dust.
Inviting. She wasn't too keen on
trying to grow new branches again.
But this one held the promise of fruit.
Sweet and cool to

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Worlds Muse

by *Zinc-Tails, Sep 6, 2009, 2:42:31 PM
Literature / Poetry / Romantic / General / Free Verse

Song is the voice of the muse
It inspires art
The brush is the hand of the muse
It draws the art of the world
Paint is the blood of the muse
It is the life of art
Your eyes are the eyes of the muse
They see all the worlds’ beauties

Worlds Museby *Zinc-Tails

Literature / Poetry / Romantic / General / Free Verse

This is a poem i submitted to a high school art show a few years back. I won some award for it that i lost track of. Anyway i like this one, but it isnt in the style that i usually write in. I prefer to write in a dark, satirical manner but decided to write a...happy poem.

My main concern with this one is its feel, is it to sappy? Secondly i worry about the flow, when i hear it in my head it sounds fine, but when i say it out loud it feels choppy. Other then that i basically just want some general feedback about the quality of this poem.*

* I'm going to take the advice and feedback I've gotten and write an edited version of this. (Pulling a George Lucas and making a special edition version lol). Think i will call it Worlds Muse Redux.

~bleusman Dec 17, 2009

I think this is really effective, and isn't too sappy at all. The only part that really hampers flow here is the line "It is the life of art" - it's shorter, and doesn't fit the gradual intensifying action of the rest of the poem. But it's such a sweet message overall, and I really enjoy how you put it into action.

!allthati Dec 16, 2009

Ah, how I love a poem that is sweet and direct! You've pulled it off nicely. I think everyone has already stated my thoughts and ideas, so I suppose I'll just say good work and I am looking forward to the "special edition!"

*Zinc-Tails Dec 16, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

Many thanks! And yea i should be getting around to writing that in a few days.

=HtBlack Dec 16, 2009

I really liked this from the beginning. I only would suggest to divide it into two verses stanzas and adding some punctuation to give the idea of your flow when someone reads it out loud.

*Zinc-Tails Dec 16, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

I'm going to integrate all the advice I've gotten on this poem into a "special edition" edited version lol. And thank you for the feedback.

=HtBlack Dec 17, 2009

Wow that's great! You're welcome.

!Lukalele Dec 15, 2009

I have a couple suggestions that I think will strengthen this piece, but feel free to reject them. I noticed that, as you described the forms of art, you first described song, then painting, then painting again. In my opinion, the forms of art are visual art, musical art, and literature. In the lines:

The brush is the hand of the muse
It draws the art of the world
Paint is the blood of the muse
It is the life of art

you described visual art (painting) twice. If you thought about replacing the brush with writer's instruments and described literature here, you will have described every form of art without repeating yourself.

That's just a suggestion, feel free to leave it as it is if you don't agree. I think the theme is very strong and I'm just trying to speculate as to how you could develop it even further. Good work

*Zinc-Tails Dec 15, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

I thought about that when i first wrote it but never could figure a good way to integrate it. I ended up repeating myself and kinda giving up and shelving this poem. I'm thinking about taking all the advice Ive gotten about this piece and making an edited version.

!darkheart3991 Dec 15, 2009 Writer

I think the poem itself is a nice and tidy little description of inspiration, creative and very nicely done. That being said (and I think you know this) this isn't exactly a deep, thought provoking piece, it says what it has to say, then it's gone, which is as it should be, so that worked nicely.

In regards to flow, I think you're right, it seems a little bit choppy when said aloud. Try working with the line length (syllables) and working under more set paramenters (I.E. long line, short line, long line, short line, etc.). That might help, but I'm sure others will have better ways to improve flow.

*Zinc-Tails Dec 15, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

This was one of my older works, so its not nearly as deep as anything I've done recently. Thanks for the input.

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