06-07-2018, 05:07 PM | #1 |
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Cimmerian
posted at: Netcees, Urbanprowlers
"go." (2016) You're in view, drenched in a rose colored bloom At sunset our steps silhouette the avenue Moons ago we met, two molecules passing through Complex in design, my approach: rather casual A relationship set sail, smitten by our ways Crashing into bedsheets, cresting with the waves A storybook beginning leapt up from a page But in time, a fine wine can sour from its age Sentiment to sediment, we’ve taken for granite— The soft sweet nothings. Habits set in stone tablets Chiseled away 'til there was nothing to keep We meet down at the café, our usual seats Reminiscing as lamplight litters the street Coffee sips to the lips—the bitter and sweet As hands unfold, Life’s a strange game, I know When to grow, you have to let your petals go.
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06-07-2018, 05:08 PM | #2 |
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"6.12.94" (2016)
Twelfth of June. I can still smell her perfume Listening—bacon sizzling—morning cartoons These technicolor memories adorning my room— While the rain is pouring, this mourning's for you The warm squeezes—melted me—grilled cheeses The borders we worked around—puzzle pieces Picture perfect—every day that the Earth twists Flowers in the garden, calling me your Orchid She could thread a needle in a blink of an eye The same speed disease unraveled her mind "In God's hands," but God damn, hers were all mine— Those wrinkles and lines, reading a Wrinkle in Time Art is from the heart, you said, bled so our eyes can see Poems at the park, keys of ebony and ivory Art is from the heart—bled so my eyes can see This dear diary, my Lee Lee is still alive in me.
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06-07-2018, 05:09 PM | #3 |
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"a[d]diction" (2015)
The death of me: these words work incessantly Like cooks in a kitchen mixing without a recipe Phrases speed on pages, collision on the precipice Crash of a diction, the prescription is the melody Art is a catharsis—or a needle to a vinyl vein— Scratching the surface, bleeding as I write away Drowned in the sound, surfing on a tidal wave Sands through my hand, slipping with the light of day Been drunk off the ink, the pen parries the sheets Stabbing wounds in a womb to carry the seed The birth of thought, blooming, I'm buried beneath— The root of all evil, and now its married to me All bark and not a bite from the family tree Let's pretend we're all peachy, syrupy sweet Knocking ourselves out for the feel of the beat Popping pills/taking notes hoping nobody sleeps . . . on me.
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06-07-2018, 05:13 PM | #4 |
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"throne away." (2013)
Words whipped together, slaves to the pages Eye lash an ink splash—the wave that invades us A master of the craft? Or a chapter from the past? Sweat and tears reared an empire for the ages I siege to seize them, breathe in and free them— A continent of consonants, my legion of demons The letters are unfettered, bathed in a cadence Of unchained melodies, bars from their cages A blade to its skin—showered a page with a pen Cut across the surface, birth the stains from within I read chivalry's dead, to knight is gone today Rise to see the son who'll put me in my grave— Prince and a pauper, all the paper stones to play Kingdom comes crumpled up and throne away.
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06-07-2018, 05:51 PM | #5 |
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"abracadaver" (2010)
Circumcise my mind, words worm within- Bleeding on the paper, knives to the skin This peeling peak’ed page incised with a pen- Cut to the core, We feel alive once again Drive into the depths of me, etch in the memories Until life’s lines pronounce them dead to me The vein of my vanity, the art in my arteries Circulate but never escape from the heart of me Food for thought: hard to stomach the honesty- Swallowed just fine but lost with my pride In roses and thorns adorned for the mourned The most beautiful sting grown in the storm The last breath in my chest still fresh to the death The beat's from the heart, the pound of the flesh Let the scavengers search, you’re probably first- To a birth in the dirt, unearth my body of work.
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06-07-2018, 05:52 PM | #6 |
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"CastlewallS" (2010)
Welcome to my Dark Ages Stark pages filled within Iron maiden marked cages I’m the ageless citizen Dope quotes are the moat Phrases refraining one from entering Chilled to the bone Whistling this wicked winter wind Put the rack to my limbs Dragging a pen Slaying dragons again Their fire’s kindling This pyre from within You’ll never know my name A raw straw shame, lines are golden I’ll never know what’s fame I ain’t distressing over dames See these seasons don’t move me Modern day sleeping beauty Mister black ink maker On this snow white paper It’s war when I’m alone Heavy crown, deathly throne Try and pick apart my mind It’s on- sword in the stone Ain’t think it all I was that deep did ya, dog? You can’t see the castle for the walls till it falls Bet you think I wasn’t that deep did ya, dog? You can’t see the castle for the walls till it falls.
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06-08-2018, 04:03 AM | #7 |
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"baby comma drama" (2010)
Watch me a paint a picture I’ll Raphael for a spell Where my pen’s a big dipper Into her well I’m just thinking this ink in Tattooing that tale The whirlwind that her words spin- Blew in my sail A relationship passes like Crafts in the night But they’re the lanterns that light The ink splashes I write Words leave lightly lipped Like passionate kisses, they’re- Cracks in the chrysalis- Wax drips off Icarus Pastel sounds An old master, mixing ‘em down New chapters, Rapture- The climax is now I’m foreword So you’re, the subject I’ll be the predicate Let’s make a sentence Paragraph indented Love scene’s a theme Let’s develop it . . . Proofread your body Hardly had to edit it When the birth of thought- Is revealed It’s awkward when we chill Played just the pen tip To see how it feels.
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06-08-2018, 04:53 AM | #8 |
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"the new years Eve" (2010)
Pea coated December, scarves and the sweaters Kaleidoscope colored crowd packed all together- I’m fettered within- cuffed to a beer and a grin Paul Revering the revelry here with my friends Records spin and women turn leaves on the wind- Weaving with my limbs, never to see them again Holiday season I guess, while stealing a breath- There’s a sweat booze cigarette feel to the scent Ignored the odor, ordered a vodka and soda- For a long blonde begonia, from Minnesota Sort of laughed and gabbed, talked Malbecs and Cabs Would you like to dance? She used to… tap and jazz As, we slide on the floor, smooth ivory chords- Beg me to dip her, our dance steps paint a picture Raphael'd for a spell until the moment in time- Finds us all Auld Lang Syne bodies entwined Lips twist licorice, her tongue cools as it enters One hand through my hair, her spare pulls at my Windsor Must she lust a last one night stand, Gen’ral Custer? My palms play catch up, her body cuts the mustard Cab lights glide through the black city grid Like firefly nights, those Julys as a kid But I’m a man with a plan, to Ma’am, the game’s over Until she semi-sober rolls over with her hangover. Um… good morning. I cooked you breakfast?
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06-08-2018, 04:54 AM | #9 |
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"in your armistice" (2009)
Blood in the sands, this hourglass stands- As a test of time, Let’s resurrect these lines- With a last dance, stepping to a brass band- Ring on the finger, it lingers next to mine Watch my arms race, inking an odyssey An armory can’t keep us safe from harmony Melancholy melodies, my artery for artistry- Is the hole in my heart that holds you apart Part of me pardons me, as a whole it’s a farce Whispering nothing but secrets stolen at dark Pour the wine slowly, For your eyes only- Pierce me deep sea, the roar of the tides on me Capsize my limbs, but Baby, baptize within I swim in my sentiments, dive with a pen War from the start of it, I never put my heart in it On my honor it’s simply wrapped in this armistice.
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06-08-2018, 05:09 AM | #10 |
Shrewd as evearthed
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"state of the art" (2009)
Words play in this ink, splashing a blue sea Crashing, storming a bastion of beauty We soon see… a landscape that’s loose leaf Start in the margins, end on a cool breeze This head I hold, thoughts bled from the soul- Keeps alchemy alive, pencil lead into gold The atoms collide like butterflies flap in July: Passionate vibes passing in my stomach’s insides Maybe it’s tragic, that the art within me- Is magic, nothing but my heart up my sleeve Believe in the feeling until all odds are even Lighting fires of desires when I dream them But in, the end, only dear friends’ll mention me Your ghost of a memory, toast of the century.
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