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Post by soulfir3 on Sept 30, 2006 2:54:19 GMT -6
She's laughin all the time...
i think she starves for you
but your cold blood runs blue-
still i feed off of you...
the echoe of your smile...
im laughing all the time.
I cannot get to you,
you left me far behind.
the flames have been erased,
Extinguished by cold rage..
your cold blood runs so blue....
i tried to follow you....
suspicion ,she awaits ,
she wears a pretty face...
she saids she knows you well...
from underneath the veil...
she claims that u tell lies....
you tell em' all the time..
These things u Never said..
The things we thought ...we had....
shes laughing all the time...
im breaking up inside
i wear you like my wings
with grace i would have knelt...
by then you were so gone...
you'd already forgot...
behind the question mark
you loved me as i was..
love had been at first glance...
just ashes..in my hands.. |
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Post by anirbas on Oct 1, 2006 10:54:59 GMT -6
"suspicion ,she awaits ,
she wears a pretty face...
she saids she knows you well...
from underneath the veil...
she claims that u tell lies...."
~fragmentation of Soulfir3 verse.
~*~
You did it to me again, this morning, lady...Metaphorically wallslammed me with this poem...
Nir.
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Post by soulfir3 on Oct 9, 2006 5:20:33 GMT -6
As always Nir, I am most thankful for your comments and pleasure you find in my works.
x Soul
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Post by Juan Castrocafe on Oct 16, 2006 11:32:32 GMT -6
""you loved me as i was..
love had been at first glance...
just ashes..in my hands..""
naked violinists playing pizzicato
on the hearstrings of the lonely
along falsetto street, lay down the
largo beat, slow and steady
into time meters the broken heart
in twelve more bars renewed
step time, beat the same,
beat the game,
dread the key
if not the locks
in Pandora's box...
is only more ashes
of what could have been
in the march and cadence
of madness and chaos,
we swam upstream into the fury
of continuation,
only to remain
ourselves...being where,
and being when
we always have our stops...
and when always have
begin...
again and again again
the magic circle
pushes the sun into the rain
into the wind into the tempest
blow, blow, blow,
tis better ashes in your hands
than emptiness you'll never know.
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Post by soulfir3 on Oct 16, 2006 16:32:32 GMT -6
Longwalk, sir ... I am blown away and honoured by such a glorious response to my own piece.
Thank you .. from the depths of myself.
Soul
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Post by dawness on Oct 18, 2006 5:02:05 GMT -6
the fury and silence of these--soul and longs-- crease my heart then launder it clean! touche!! wonderful gems.  |
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Post by soulfir3 on Oct 18, 2006 5:09:43 GMT -6
did you think that only the fury
of the noon time sun,
would somehow,
nurture my heart and soul
rendering, my mind almost numb
with the aching need
of acceptance..
desire of anyone..
no one -
labelled a whore,
but without so much as a
smear of red, from that cheap
lipstick you once bought me,
from the store, where you
like, the proud peacock,
danced and paraded..
the property, you were so eager
too show off..
in disgusting awareness,
of my own discomfort
and displeasure |
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Post by soulfir3 on Oct 18, 2006 19:40:55 GMT -6
There shall be no more need for
tears to be shed,
the ones, tainted with the blood
of your hatred,
Once the moon has dipped behind
looming clouds,
even the shadows will be without friends |
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Post by anirbas on Oct 18, 2006 23:22:43 GMT -6
naked violinists playing pizzicato
on the hearstrings of the lonely
along falsetto street, lay down the
largo beat, slow and steady
into time meters the broken heart
in twelve more bars renewed
step time, beat the same,
beat the game,
dread the key
if not the locks
in Pandora's box...
is only more ashes
of what could have been
in the march and cadence
of madness and chaos,
we swam upstream into the fury
of continuation,
only to remain
ourselves...being where,
and being when
we always have our stops...
and when always have
begin...
again and again again
the magic circle
pushes the sun into the rain
into the wind into the tempest
blow, blow, blow,
tis better ashes in your hands
than emptiness you'll never know.
~Longwalk aka John Moseley.
~*~
*WHAM!*SLLLLLITH!*
Down the metaphorical wall I slide in my head...Absolutely great
to see you back in poeming action.
And S'fir...Oh, my stars...Such wonderous offerings you continue to leave here...
Don't know how this Nir is supposed to haul herself up from the floor...
First one and then the other of you, blowing me away, cypherically...
So, got more? ggglgggl
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Post by lilly on Oct 21, 2006 6:13:32 GMT -6
wow blown away by eeryness of these ones too close to home for my liking hun but you are an awsome writer sometimeds u cant help but wonder who you are writing about love u bbae well done as always love lilly
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