Untitled
every step
comes with air
of revelations—
pulsing
on the tip
there is
a grand stillness
with the stars
Untitled
every step
comes with air
of revelations—
pulsing
on the tip
there is
a grand stillness
with the stars
Last edited by M4ngo; 02-21-2016 at 12:31 PM. Reason: To include title of poem, and to say this is where I will post my writing from here on out.
Outside my window
I see the melancholy
drift—
the sad leaves free
of not knowing where to go
those eyes—
harboring in the shadows
even in a bucket of sun
you can't escape
I'll love you always
underneath the angelic dust—
even after I die
Last edited by M4ngo; 03-05-2016 at 05:07 PM. Reason: I wrote multiple versions about the same thing, and so I am keeping this and tossing the rest.
New dawn splintered
a wink of enlightenment—
the Robin is singing
Mornings come rushing
with slammed goodbyes—
regret and apologes consume
the hands of the clock
In the warm afternoon breeze
a dreaded smile waits—
remembering how it was
to once be anxious to see
The house ages
through the night
and creaks the memories
swept under the rug
Alone in the distance
she falls asleep beside me—
hoping to dream of waking up
the love anchoring us apart
I particularly like Sad Leaves and Anchored Mistakes. So much with very little.
Before sunlight can shine through a window, the blinds must be raised - American Proverb
the shadow splinters
—ashes of deception
and ripples into mirrors
of stone
Japanese honeysuckles
at the rope swing
—sweet invasion
I'm in a warm confused blanket
peering at the still—
swarming thru this blink
the autumn leaves
made a bed
—just for you
warm rain of afternoon
breeze me in—
your solitude
Last edited by M4ngo; 09-30-2016 at 02:05 AM.
when the last
bloom of silence
fades
the cold-rose dusk
away,
the petals
drift
into a lullaby—
and rest easy
under our willow
Last edited by M4ngo; 11-30-2016 at 02:58 AM.
Arms folded to the moon
—in rainy dawn
What does she say
To the bird’s sad song of life?
Write my name in Solitude
O’ sweet angel above
In the cold rose dusk
Where your winds gently blow
How I wish I could know
O' how I wish I could know
Last edited by M4ngo; 11-30-2016 at 05:29 AM. Reason: First poem I wrote @ 16 yo (13 yrs ago). This is the original. Feel in love with poetry ever since. Exclude my other version.
There is no simple road
and roses rarely bloom on forever—
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