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Richy
Member Elite

since 2003-05-03

Posts 3050

0 posted 2010-07-10 05:46 PM

Is my writing difficult to read
sometimes?

Are my, words, too long and hard
on occasion?

Are they too penetrating
to fit in your perception
and swallow?

Damn right they are.

But if you don’t get it,
don’t sweat it.

So are glances from a deaf man
watching wind
lick petals off a tree.

Or the dust
that was once a hand
that floats on waves
of faith
toward god.

My words are moisture
upon you,
that only lasts so long
before they fall through your fingers
and evaporates back into the blind eyes
of clouds,
as the knuckles of night tide,
nocturnal on your cupboards,
waiting for permission to entrée
and gorge
on your garden of eaten.

Come drown
in the dessert of my liquescent labyrinth
raising my, question
only to be engulfed with answers.

Drink from my dreams
while I harvest
your screams
and let my words evaporate
onto the wits of your chest
as they slip and drip from the chin
of your thirst.

How do mouths of mountains
fit perfectly,
over gushers of lava
sealing them wholly
as tectonic thighs
of plates and sighs
rub, and grind, till
finally
fountains,
reach the sky?

I am tired.

Of writing.

I am tired.

Of writing
to a broken mirror
in the fog.

My words
have simply become
mind pollution.

Or perhaps,
heart vomit
take your pick?
This is my last poem…

…on paper.
From now on
the night sky will be my parchment
and the shooting stars
my pen.

Poems were never ever meant
to be read anyway,
except by the moon
and maybe a frog or two
peeking up
at the heavens.

There are just so many
foot prints I’ve pushed
into this blanket of snow,
so many heart prints
I’ve transferred
onto this ream of reason,
that is my life.

Too bad we only get one sheet
of time though
to write upon.

Even if it is long,
like the universe of an echo.

I crumpled mine
just now
and threw it in the bin
when my hope fell silent
and danced with sin,
that set my page
of foolish desire
into laughs,
of ice and fire.

You know usually
when I first step into her room
she is quiet,
upset that I haven’t been, for awhile.

The more hushed it is though
the louder it becomes.

First,
a wave from a branch.

Then the heat from her radiance
afar,
makes me blush.

Her whispers
rearranging my hair
with breeze
and honeycomb.

How many words can we say
in one lifetime?

How many words,
can we write?

How many can we think,
and how many
can we make others
feel?

How much shade can we make
from all the clouds of moisture
that we produce?

How many pillows can we soak
at night
with the sadness in our hearts?

And the love,
for that special someone.

I am merely the song of sky
and the stuttering
of brooks.

I’m the moan
of the mountains
and the wish,
of the wind.

I’m the voice
of the valleys
and the lips,
of the land.

I’m the cry of the caves
and the say,
of the sand.

They say to have love
in your heart
is a blessing.

It’s not,
it’s a curse.

Sometimes I wish
I wasn’t damned
with so much passion in my heart.

On and on it yearns
and yet
and yet
it just never, ever,
seems to learn.

My life has been one long rhapsody
of silence,
and skin symphonies.

What is it?

What is this addiction
to be happy?

It just has to stop.

It just has
to.

Was it always
supposed to
be this way?

This night and day,
of black on white
this ink we bleed
of words we write.

There just has t be
more.

There just has
to.

How can you impress
an ocean of love
with only ten pints
of blood?

nakdthoughts
Member Laureate

since 2000-10-29

Posts 19200
Between the Lines

1 posted 2010-07-10 09:18 PM

I can't answer you, Richy. But you have just about covered everything~~

M

Richy
Member Elite

since 2003-05-03

Posts 3050

2 posted 2010-07-11 08:26 PM

That was a long one wasn't it Maureen, but then, thats what I do... long... ! ...

tee hee lol

Thanks hon!

Sunshine

Administrator

Member Empyrean

since 1999-06-25

Posts 63354
Listening to every heart

3 posted 2010-07-11 08:34 PM

quote:
So are glances from a deaf man
watching wind
lick petals off a tree.

I could have stopped there. That image
was priceless!

Richy
Member Elite

since 2003-05-03

Posts 3050

4 posted 2010-07-11 08:47 PM

Lol thank you Karilea, I wasn't sure if anyone would like that particular line?

Thank you dear friend, I hope all is wonderful!

Richard (You)

Ringo

Member Elite

since 2003-02-20

Posts 3684
Saluting with misty eyes

5 posted 2010-07-11 11:34 PM

This was an exceedingly long read... and yet, I just couldn't pull myself away from it..
Very well done.

Life's journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting, "WHAT A RIDE

Richy
Member Elite

since 2003-05-03

Posts 3050

6 posted 2010-07-11 11:51 PM

Hey thank you friend I really appreciate it, yeah sorry about that, my mind seems to wander sometimes... and then get lost along the way lol

Nice meeting you Ringo!
Richard

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