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YouWhen our lips met I felt
Like I could soar across the
Sky. The door was
Finally opening to better things
But a feeling of vulnerability
Washed over me like a wave.
What if you broke my heart?
My selfish mind spat out a
Lie. “I like you but I don’t
Want this to ruin our friendship.”
I erected barriers to protect
My heart of glass.
But you broke through the barriers I set up.
Others have broken them in the past but
You not only obliterated the defenses
You cut into my heart like the iceberg
That sank the unsinkable Titanic
When you had fallen for another.
On the Shores
Dear Child of Mine,

Carefree wisps of hair kiss your salted lips
With the taste of wonder and innocence
Playing on the shores of reminiscence

Red bucket in hand with treasures to find
And Grandmother there ever by your side
Inseparable friends on the shores of time

Where youthful magic appears without end
Memories shimmer upon summer sand
Alive on the shores of Cape May diamonds

Each holding a dream once carried to sea
Returning fulfilled and so you believe
Finding faith on the shores of mystery

I see you there now as my soul takes flight
Dancing in ripples like shadows of light
With the ebb and flow on the shores of life

Dear Child of
*Timeless*Life lived together
What more can be desired
Those timeless moments.

2013 Delice1941
16th February2013
*Love Hurts*Pain of love chronic
Damaged to the very core
Heartbeat compromised.

2013 Delice1941
5th February2013
*Dust*Irresistible
Sepulcher high on cliff face
Gloomy tomb from past
Smell of dust and artifacts
Attracts inquisitive minds.

2013 Delice1941
19th April2013
*Hunter's Moon*Hunter's moon reigns in paradoxical sky
Wolf hound howls fearful might die
Illusions, secrets they abound
Whispering spirits, hear that sound?

Forests turn evil, trees walk and talk
Creatures scuttle alarmed they squawk
No place to hide, night of fear
Supernatural moment that is clear.

Ocean surges reflecting moon
Mermaids and sirens swim and swoon
Moored boat broke free, sailed away
Skippered by spectre who joined the fray.

Safe at home in comfortable bed
There's tapping at window cover your head
Might not sleep on Hunter's moon night
Thoughts run wild, deadly fright.
The GiftBlessed are we for all our works,
if even only one is heard,

purely, that it might inspire,
the written word of another's fire.

For from the lips words oft taste sweet,
alas, like fragments, left incomplete.

Though the heart they truly warm,
'tis by a new creation born

when love is shared, and love returned,
the infinite flame - the soul - doth burn.
EscapeDo we ever stop this?
Do we ever reach the top?
If I tell you secrets
Can you promise me to keep them?
Don't you let me go tonight

Because we're climbing the clouds
reaching for the stars
If Mother Nature calls us
We are too far
We've gone too far this time

Can we ever begin again
Can we start the ocean waves
If I show you my pain
Can you promise me to let it rain?
Don't you let me go tonight

Because we're climbing skies
touching the stars
If hell ever calls us
we are too far
we've gone too far this time

And we're sailing our dreams
we're tasting the skies
If heaven calls us
we're too far behind
we've gone too far tonight

Do we ever stop
S.A.D.Pressure is the first sign, then a feeling like a shortness of breath.  No exertion needed.  Indeed any task, however routine, seems to require too much effort.  A nameless sorrow weighs on my spirit.  I want to surrender, but the enemy is elusive.  Joy, like an ever-shortening fall day, is fleeting.

darkening days…
southward marching sun
diminishes
My Sole ConditionTo what conditions must I comply
when prompted to write
of what dwells inside?

'Tis always my voice I aim to speak
with pen in hand, bleeding ink,
as does my heart, spilling words
upon a page, perhaps unheard
save by me, myself, and I -
imagination amplified!

Eclectic fragments in the mind -
to each his own for these are mine;
thereby forming how they will
in fluid flight with feathered quill,
as freedom flows with expression
of fantasy or pure confession.

Symbolic makings of the soul
take shape as musical rhymes unfold.
Whilst not perfected or contrived,
'tis how this poem became alive;
for thus am I, in each rendition,
still my own poeti
These Little DeathsInhale.

You are the straw falling;
I am the camel's back.
You are the
cracks
that stay just so long
in the windshield
until it
shatters.

I'm watching you grow;
I'm aching with apprehension.
I'm counting the muscles in my stomach
as they contract,
just trying to stay sane.

Exhale.

You are the release,
the sun setting on a perfect day.
I am the horizon,
welcoming you in with open
arms.

You are the waves;
I am watching you grow.
I'll prepare for your breaks,
for your rises and falls:
And I will learn
                             how to surf
                                                  yet.
Bleachingi.
So far beyond black
there has been a whiting

Ten arrows shot
and the moon blew out

Took my color as I
took her heart

ii.
Do not be surprised
when night follows

Puts his shadow at your back
and tugs at your ankles

I will be at your neck
a finger trailing

iii.
The moon
I rarely give thought

Her pale too stark
for my black

Her pale now paled
to yours

iv.
Did I love her?
No one holds an orbit

No one; she told me
black was much the same

      well-
I'm willing to wager my pale
if you'll wager in kind
settleon these nights
    i seemed to bleed 
        something beautiful
atop of blue bird's
    bones.
breathing
                breaths
    of
    frost
            lashes.
    stars settling
in 
    eyes of spring,
            budding blooms
and 
        sure-shell things
but heart cries
    for blossoms
the fall of gentle 
    white
rough my bones
    in winter's chill-
where my
heart
used to be
so
                      s t  i l l


.
.
.
Fall From GraceShe awoke to the jangle -
her silver spoon falling with the
rain in spades;

she learned to call a tunnel
home, and never missed the
irony in her name:

Charity
AfterIt follows me.
My silver skeined ghost.

An almost imperceptible thread;
only visible when you shine light
    directly upon it.
It follows me.

It rides the underground.
It hides under bridges,
Under trains.
It is woven into the spools of tar
         that form the roads between.

Inevitably if I walk too fast
it reminds me -
Like the tug of stitches in your cheek
that reminds you; you have lost your wisdom.
It reminds me.

It trips me in doorways,
when my mind is elsewhere.
If I look away from it -
           - it slips round my neck.
Another knot to throw over the beams
it mauls me without a fair chance.

I tried to sever it. I can't.
Browse More Like This

More from ~TheStoyTeller

PrejudiceI can feel the prejudice
of their eyes
boring into my forhead
like a power drill
taking its place
in the space between
my eyes,
splitting and ripping the skin
cracking and fracturing the skull,
and squishing and pulverizing
my brain
into a bloody smoothie
that the demons of
judgement use to
refresh themselves with.

I don't scream,
and I don't flail.
I do not speak,
I do not move.
Just like you,
I simply
tear my own eyes out,
and quietly walk away.
Insane: A Rapunzel Story"...99 and, 100!" Rapunzel squeeled as she finished her 100th stroke of hair brushing. "Happy anniversary!" She said to her companion. Her friend shrugged.

"Whats so happy about it?"

"I have been here for almost 100 years and I haven't died or gone crazy, silly!" Rapunzel laughed for a minute. Of course she hadn't died. The witch had layed an immortality curse on her along with the entrapment spell. Her intention was to make Rapunzel suffer up there alone in the tower, cut away from the rest of the world. The only thing she had was her immortal hair, her smelly old brush, her bed sheets and bedroom window...a window that was useless unless
The EngineerMy heart pumps,
and beats
and it steams
like a generator
generating energy,
like the fire of combustion
that finds its way out of
the pistons
in your brain that
jump up and
jerk down;
constantly
moving, like the gears
that turn
and grind in my chest.

You and I
spark and fizz
like magnesium
and posphorus
set under the bunsen
that would not be there
if it wasn't a universal
fact that
You and I
go together
like chemicals
toxic,
explosive,
powerful,
magnificent.

It is like we,
this You and I
designed each other
the blue print of you
imprinted
on the wallpaper of my
wildest dreams and
every machine
I make w

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Suicide

:iconthestoyteller:

She looked around with
her head held high
Naive optimism tattooed
on her slick neck
like a noose,
wet with perspiration
and desire.
She wears wonder
like the crown of
a dead queen
and glory sharpens her eyes
as she asks herself
if a living body still floats
though the mind is dead.

And she pranced down
the wooden path
to eternity
like a lioness
walking through fire
where jeers and judgements
raged around her like
a boisterous red sea.

Her lips are toxic,
and the words fall
from her mouth
like she was spitting
up oil,
and her skin froze
and turned blue
because her body
had realized before
she did that
she had finally died.

And I screamed,
because I was so damn
terrified to see
someone willingly
walk to the edge of the sea
but when it was over
I was ready.
It was my turn.

I close my eyes,
and think about
the words you said
"I'm ready to be a
suicide,
girl."

The jeers and the judgement
turn into jagged edged questions
asking me
if I have any
last words.

I think about
all of the words
I would have saved and said
if God had told me
years ago
that I only had
a million more breaths to give.
My heart sinks as I fall off of
the egde and whisper
my last words;
"I'm ready to love a
suicide
girl."

116

11 2 2
:iconthestoyteller:

Suicideby ~TheStoyTeller

DescriptionDetailsShare
Download TXT download, 1.6 KB
Its about walking the plank. Inspired by Eyes Wide Open by Gotye.

what is your reaction to the piece?
what are your overall thoughts on the meaning?
was the word choice captivating or the opposite?
©2012-2013 ~TheStoyTeller
Category: Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

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Submitted on
December 2, 2012
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:iconlionschool:
!LionSchool Dec 2, 2012  Professional
I really love how immersive this feels... very... what's the word... luscious, sensory-wise. You do that really well. Good stuff sir.
Reply
:iconthestoyteller:
~TheStoyTeller Dec 2, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks so much. I really appreciate that.
Reply
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