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Literature Text
I wish that I could find a way
To plant the seed of dreams in day
Pick a fruit and choose the taste
No more the maiden runs with haste
Not to be caught but get away
Just as they seem to do in day
It has always been my prize
To break this cage and free my eyes
When morrow comes to still remain
Escaped from sorrows and mundane
And ever look upon the skies
Where peace that is immortal lies
If only I could choose the thought
I'd go to places long forgot
The memories I hold most dear
Forfeit my life and live them here
Ignore the outcomes life had brought
And find the happy end once sought
To plant the seed of dreams in day
Pick a fruit and choose the taste
No more the maiden runs with haste
Not to be caught but get away
Just as they seem to do in day
It has always been my prize
To break this cage and free my eyes
When morrow comes to still remain
Escaped from sorrows and mundane
And ever look upon the skies
Where peace that is immortal lies
If only I could choose the thought
I'd go to places long forgot
The memories I hold most dear
Forfeit my life and live them here
Ignore the outcomes life had brought
And find the happy end once sought
Literature
Demons are Smarter Than You
The mist obediently hovers within the binding circle, coming once more and tamely to my call. How raucous it was when first I summoned it! How loudly it roared its name to the ceiling—how silent were the heavens that night. But now it is silent when it arrives, as silent as the heavens when I call, for I have bade it so. With it comes the sulfurous reek of its home and its own pets—a pair of tiny bat-winged imps no larger than my hand—and a deepening of the shadows in my basement conjury.
The fool has cast his spells of summoning again, and never were more clichéd words uttered than in this room. He thinks I am silent because he ordered
Literature
October Eyes
Such gentle colors drip across your freckled shoulder blades.
A quilt of puddled watercolors soaked in auburn shades.
Spun of golden rivulets and rinsed in autumn skies,
So many endless currents swimming through your lonesome eyes.
Brushing under fingertips and over shattered songs,
Unraveling like morning glaze against my paling palms.
With beauty like October hills and hollow as the skies,
The water drops against the earth will be our lullaby.
Literature
for unseeing eyes
laden with sky
we stumbled
and painted mockingbirds
on loveless branches
folding in our slender limbs
and ducking under our own
voices, fidgety and frail
against the wall of night.
between the dipping blades
and drawn shoulders
we learned to craft our words
steady-soft,
a drumming rain
that carved canyons
in open hearts and
drew the sunshine to
our supping lips.
keen-eyed, we watched
remembering the weight
of unseeing eyes
and scalding remarks
and we learned to slip
the noose-knots and slide
through the soul-cracks
and somehow
build kingdoms under
upturned noses.
with lyrical uncertainty
and tender determinat
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Dedicated to the one that got away
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To hope that I could write the theme
That I may find you in a dream
Dedicated to the one that got away
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To hope that I could write the theme
That I may find you in a dream
Comments16
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Originality Technique ImpactFirstly, I'd like to point out that I don't critique a lot of literature as I don't consider it my area of expertise, but this is beautifully written. I especially love the two line It has always been my prize, To break this cage and free my eyes.
The rhyming is perfect and I was gripped from the first line. So many poems use predictable first lines, but I really like the way you've written yours. The only thing I could criticise is the fact there's no grammar, but that's no major issue to me, it's fantastic work, keep it up!