[x]

Eclipsing the RainRibbons of raindrops
caught in the headlight's glare; stars
breathe their wishes here.

Advice ColumnsBefore you give yourself away,
remember this:
you'll only ever get
the shattered pieces back.

VineyardLike a grape,
I squeezed until you
popped;
trodden at heart,
I smeared you on my lips
before tossing your skin aside,
warpaint glistening—

Your tenderness
hooked me and I fought;
your sweetness
roughed my palms,
begged for vengeance,
made me callous—

Nice
is a word
I can't mold around my tongue,
but you drew the summer wine
from our union:

you the sugar,
I the alcohol—

This love-hate
isn't what they said it should be—
it won't sweeten with time;
the bite of vinegar
bitters everything.

Star Swollen--C.The window, tinted with lost dreams,
fogs around my hand, palm print smears
blurring the constellations
into distant twinkle-lights.
Forget that the sky has bad days, too--
I take the stars for granted
when it comes to wishing for you.

Back, when dark days would come-
you were like the stars above,
desperate for my attention.
Silently you’d shine your light for me,
Even when I would refuse to see.
You’d shoot across the darkness,
stroking your splendorous beauty through the sky.
Still, I ignored your pleas,
your devotion went unnoticed.
Until now, now when wishing on a star is all I have left.

Trace a comet's tail
across Hercul

Dry Swallow--C.You have a nasty habit
of touching me where it bleeds,
ragged fingertips catching
rubbed-raw skin.

There's no scab there;
that wound has never healed,
festering yellow and oozing pus--

and each morning breaks
another plastic seal,
white bottles and tiny blue pills
leaving the bitter taste of almost-tragic
on my tongue.

Swallow dry;
that stuck feeling passes,
replaced by lethargy
and the diluted memories
of a time you made me happy,
when each morning broke
under a red sunset, the sheets
strewn around us.

It's fantasy now,
but I still feel the weight of you
during quiet moments.

Dust SettlingI need to be honest, darlin';
you haven't cleaned the dust
from the shelves of your heart
in too long.

I left fingerprints there,
once...
but the ridges I see now
don't belong to me.

So,
who is she?

Bellwether Curve--C.The handwritten footnotes
on either of my palms reads:
'our mouths are exits;
our ears are entrances.'

Dog-mark the pages
and highlight the words;
this lesson is rigged
and I have yet to learn
the grading curve
on a heart.

When we speak together
we listen separate
for where each other
is on the learning curve
and lean with the gradation
when we're inclined
to let ourselves
not know better.

Let's connect the dots
and plot the angle between us
before the curve gets too steep
and I find myself stuck
where x and y meet.

Phoenix SongsBreath like smoke on cold mornings,
we'd watch the sun peak over the mountains
and you'd whisper,
"Phoenix rises in the east,
beak filled with song and feathers burning,
the hope of adventure at the start of a new day."

Phoenix was a mystery
to a twelve year old boy with big dreams;
in the hours that passed
from one dawn to the next,
I'd imagine a plume of red-orange-yellow-gold
and search the horizon
as if Phoenix would choose to enlighten me
on the ways of waking the world.

Twenty years, turtle slow,
and the only thing that changed was our routine;
we watched the day start
from opposite sides of the sea
but I always whispered your word

Dead-WeightIt will be raining,
the clouds thick and persistent,
when you first start to wonder
what brought you here.

It will be raining
and you will be cold,
your jacket,
ignored and abused,
still slung
over the back of his favorite chair
and you will wonder
why the calluses on his fingertips
make you shy away.

It will be raining--
the clouds thick and persistent
as his dead-weight gaze--
and you will be cold--
your jacket forgotten
in your haste to escape--
and between
the first groan of thunder
shaking your nerves
and the lightning sparking
a branch overhead,
you'll find these words
scrawled like destiny
across the Evergreen's trunk:

Buy an umb

tasseographyyou stain my organs like the blackest of tea poured over and out into bone-white china cups. i feel the weight of your aftertaste in every moment of solitude scraped from breaks made into restless messes by your memory.

you haunt me like a mad man's symphony, like a eulogy pre-written and dedicated to the residue of us.

porcelain dolls with faces as pallid as your affection and as alabaster as your skeleton watch us fall apart. our saccharine sub-terrains implode, chipping the edges of our finest china with their crystalline shards; we bleed out as quickly as torn tea-bags doused in scalding water.

you are the tiresome teardrops that fall

the leper and the lambbaby boy grew up and
the thorns left his crown;
his sides cry red,

it scares me to hear the
same stories in his sighs.

he is the kind of poetic violent whose
words are like calculated anvils; he
dissipates between my bones and

my heart will burst, I swear it. I am
afraid of balloons and the imminent
explosion of my delicate monstrosity
rising through my throat and suffocating--
but it’s really beautiful

when he turns over and rubs the galaxies
congested within his eyes. I believe in
shooting stars and intoxicated nights and the
prickled promises intertwined between our
fingers, as I miscalculate how fragile I really am

it&rsquo

FlatliningPebbles skip across
flat waters, the rippling
of summer's mistake.

Dreaming IvoryI dreamt you were a poet
running from the moon--
morning of pale spring.

Stepping StonesI rip pages
out of poetry books,
the titles of
Shakespeare
and Plath
and Dickinson
littering the floor
like trash,
and I wonder
if we don't all
wind up stepping stones
in the end.

Watching Butterflies--FFM 17Sometimes, he wishes he had someone to talk to.  Ray sits on a bench, his rusting, creaky elbows perched on his rusting, creaky knees, and watches the butterflies.  Cumulonimbus clouds stretch across the sky above his head, the kinks in his metal spine curved against the wood and groaning with the breeze.

"Let's put him here," they'd said, a gleam in their eyes.  "He'll make a great tourist attraction!"

They'd glued him to the bench, molding his rusting, creaky feet to a slab of heavy concrete.  "Feed the birds with Ray," they'd yelled.  "He's a great listener!"

And for twenty years, he was

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Autumn FlamesDew drops on August
leaves; a fire of autumn
on weeping branches.

On the Nature of DaylightThe tree that loves its leaves
leaves in fog,
but all the leaves are brown.

The forest's brooding.

Morning awaits.

Depths of DrowningThe sea-spray stings, harsh
on these wounds; seagulls circle,
spotting easy prey.

Absent ShadowsBonsai tree shadows
stretch across faded wallpaper,
closing the day.

Where the Color SwaysLook to the birds
digging into the Earth
the sunlight creeps inside.

Under the pale-lit sky,
canyon flowers.

Autumn's cameo.

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Jaded Goodbyes

by =TwilightPoetess, Jan 27, 2013, 4:13:04 PM
Literature / Poetry / Nature / Haiku & Eastern

The forest colors
me periwinkle, sunlight
catching in hurt eyes.

Jaded Goodbyesby =TwilightPoetess

Literature / Poetry / Nature / Haiku & Eastern

©2013 =TwilightPoetess

Day 27

Used a prompt set by =Lacewinged-Beauty -- color me periwinkle.

January 27, 2013

*0hgravity Feb 1, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

sunlight catching in hurt eyes.
--love this.

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=TwilightPoetess Feb 1, 2013

Thank you.

Reply

*0hgravity Feb 1, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

welcome

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~Lacewinged-Beauty Jan 27, 2013 Writer

^{Oh that is lovely! I'm so pleased you found a use for my prompt!}

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=TwilightPoetess Jan 27, 2013

Well, I appreciate you giving them to me! I really love all of them.

Reply

~Lacewinged-Beauty Jan 27, 2013 Writer

^{I am so pleased that you like them! One thing I cannot stand is unoriginal prompts, so many of them are flat and boring. I'd much rather receive something interesting, so that is what I give to others - who knows, maybe one day people will return the favour}

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=TwilightPoetess Jan 27, 2013

I'm with you, there--I hate unoriginal prompts, myself.

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~Lacewinged-Beauty Jan 28, 2013 Writer

^{I like people to be imaginative}

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