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Under a Witches SkyAnd lo there he said: "I am darkness rising"
— ‘an apparition bleeding into a dreaming sky
Distilled in the timbre of windswept voices,
black feathers enchant earth in fevered-song
Magick ebbs & shimmers thru earthen veins,
seething like a migration of hungry wolves
Silvery eyes peer, drinking the ether of souls;
watching the spirit world fold into the mists
And where Shadows and Witches conjure,
— myriad talons beshrew Winter’s prayer

For eons I hath wandered in forgotten lore
— a sleep walker thru ash & fire, hunting ..
Beneath Moon solemn and drifting,
I covet thy ghostly figure velvet, undressing
Pools of

The Man and the MoonHer mouth corners hung themselves
and I began to wonder if that was the death of them.
A simple, quiet death;
without broken fingernails lining the walls
with the stripes of a despairing end.
I began to ache with the questioning in my heart
with the echoes reverberating in my capillaries
of her face scorching sunshine in her smile
right before it crumpled
and nothing was left but a frowning moon
set firm in its resignation to an upcoming eclipse.

SpeakeasyI can feel you like a phantom,
sensation without touch,
like breath in winter
or a misty mountain morning
that stays with me
until the stars fall in evening.

Your eyes contain the secrets
your lips would dare to betray,
but your body tells the story
and I am trying
to read between the lines
of your paperback smiles.

A grazing touch, a covert glance,
the memories remain
as skin grows warm and red
beneath lying fingertips
that claim incidental contact
a thousand times a day.

Of course,
it's not the kind of thing we say
when we are speaking
without talking and feeling
without touching
and thinking without knowing...

all of the things

Dandelion QueenI dream of the ocean;
that paper-thin line where
the current swallows the stars
and the water churns violet

(you tell me to be
quiet,

dandelion queen, we've
heard all these words before)

tonight
I will sleep heavy
and wake a few hours before dawn,
only to forget my name

my wave-weathered heart will cry,
I will cry (my biggest fear
is drowning in too many
of my own weighted words

you tell me to be
quiet
so I can hear the world breathe)

I want to go home

Overgrown ColorsRed like blood on a rose.
White like bone and stars.
Black like reclusiveness.
Green like dead air.
Orange like the savage instinct.
Purity like a god's heart.
Red like thawing hatred.
White like a frozen, severe cry.
Black like the night's deprived shadows.
Green like the wind in the grass.
Orange like the light in the shadows.
Purity like the sun rising.
So discharging through the moon in a wheeze is like luminous white, dispersed red.

We Can't Be Together.Every kiss you plant on my lips,
Takes a little bit of my soul away.

You're stealing the passion,
You're invading my heart,
And killing what emotion I've left untouched.
Stop this.
I can't love you.

I've tried to before,
Oh my god,
Have I tried.

Tried to unlock the doors to myself,
Tried to open up,
And let you in.
But as soon as I took one look,
Negativity took it's opportunity,
And struck the hot iron I'd been molding.

Every word you mutter
My knees falter under
You're killing me

You're my kryptonite
I'm your paradise
But in this odd peace that seems to be approaching
I can't find happiness.

We aren't meant to be together
But this

WindowsHere am I, repeated,
and beyond waits everything
but everything is more
than I can bear.

I am not built for altitude
nor looking far afield;
groves and granite-sided mountains
stop my gaze

like rest for every tired wing;
a cover in the coldest time
snugged up beneath my chin.

Windows nothing more,
but safe lies there behind them
as the chambered hours pass;

safe sleeps there behind them
on the soft side of the glass.

Poet as PainterThe world
Your dusty palette,
The pen
Your muddied paintbrush:

Dip into
The impossible
Colour
Of imagination

And stain
The pristine slate
With an
Image distilled.

Dry Spell I am immobilized by time.
by the idea that it is somehow slipping,
fleeting,
evaporating
through the cracks of
my fingers and high

above my head.
I am terrified by the incessant notion
that no combination of thoughts,
words,
silences,
or actions
could possibly satiate it.

I realize only now that it can never be filled:
all which is tossed into it is swallowed in haste
or stretched
so far
that it dissolves into non-being.
I find that I am caught within its furrows
much like the words it devo

BoyfriendI thought you were good.

You WERE good.

You played with my hair.

You held me when I cried.

You were a gentleman.

You made me laugh.

You kissed me.

You loved me.

I loved you.

It was then that I learned the truth.

The dirty, rotten, stinking truth.

About you!

You cheated.

You played with her hair.

You kissed her.

You loved her.

You made her laugh.

I saw you – don’t you dare deny it.

I saw you giving her that love.

That same love you gave me.

I break up with you.

You don’t even seem to care.

Did you ever love me at all?

Or was it only ever her?

Much later, you’ll realize what a mistake you made.

I

with thanks to frosttwo roads diverged in a soulless dawn
and you pull over,
idling on the shoulder of route 50.
it's a polaroid morning and
the world is as grainy
and sleep-heavy
as your eyes,
and one million miles
is not far enough.
it plays back, filmstrip,
blurred along the length of
optic nerves,
and here you are:
facing a choice between
on
and
out.
and this?
this loosejointed, hollowbodied
weightless ache--
this is what
gone
feels like.

You Don't Know ItYou don't know it, but you kept me sane
I nearly went over the edge
With a knife in one hand and a gun in the other
But you grabbed me
Pulled me back on my own two feet
Emptied my hands
And when you realized that I couldn't stand on my own
You hugged me
Like a mother would do for her child
Like a friend would do for, dare I say, another friend

You don't know it, but when you saved me
I felt free
I felt wanted
I felt needed
I felt, dare I say, loved

You don't know it, but when you showed me kindness
I fell in love
In love with your kindness
That same sweet kindness you saved me with
It felt like I found a new home
One that I could be, dare

untitledGold abundant at your feet,
Heart ripe and pumping on your sleeve,
And eternal admiration;
To say happiness has evaded you
Would be asylum-esque lunacy
For you have nothing to lose,
Fate is on your side,
The odds are in your favor infinitely
Do not waste the gift you’ve received

Pull Her Hair/Stare At The StarsThe ghosts have crashed their ship
on the other side of town,
you can see it from the second floor
all the way over here.
You can see the white clouds
rising from the wreck
and a nova of heat, a big bright
nova of warmth pulling the moths and wolves
out from the woods (with their noses up and searching).
You can smell the yearning like bees
leaving the hive, like the grizzly brown bears
on the jagged white mountains (concrete and imposing).
They call it fear,
but I see these ghosts
scrambling up into the sky
and I like to think it's
something different entirely.

He doesn't write poetry anymore.He doesn’t write poetry anymore,
even if he still collects it, reads it, saves it, treasures
faded verses from his wife the way connoisseurs
savor vinyl over metallic rainbows on disc.
I don’t mind not knowing, but I can’t stand not asking.

The record needle hits the groove wrong;
he stumbles over words that aren’t there,
rummaging for an answer he doesn’t really have.
He doesn’t write poetry anymore
and his confusion is strangely endearing.

But there’s a lyricism to his words that I love,
poetic lines inserted between the daily grind
of character names and who said what;
voiceless boys in white a

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RedemptionYou don't find redemption, it finds you.

TW Chapter 10 - EntwinedA sudden blast of the icy cold northern wind brought Miranda awake from her fitful sleep. Blearily, she tried to figure the source of the chilly air. After a quick glance around, she guessed it was from the window. Window... The image of a window continued to haunt the edge of her memories. Since when did her room have a window? She tried to stand, but the sudden rush of blood from her brain made everything spin.

Slowly, Miranda regained her balance. There, at the far corner of the room was the source of the chill. A small window inlaid into the stone. As though a trick, she felt the cold recede. Carefully, she reached up to touch

This is I. Who are you?The thickened air, as the cut is drawn,
Darkened skies, pale with fear.
Blood seeps down, the wound is whole.

The hole is real, and we are blind.
Does anyone feel? Are we all deaf?
What of the oceans, and endless sound...

I remember the untold stories,
Things which never happened.

I dare to imagine the future
Of the yesterdays gone by.

I am the now, the present,
The final and the absolute.

Who are you?

Where you see songs of hate,
I find the rhythm of love.
Where you lay down and dig the hole,
I lift up, and carry you.

Where you see death,
I find life.

For I am the fragrance
Of death to death,
And life to life.

Soles and SoulsHe's wearing a hole
in the soles of his shoes,

She's breaking a hole
in the soul of her heart,

And neither one can tell.

All alone, they wander around,
Wondering what's going on.

He's running out
of shoes to walk,

She's running out
of love to give,

And they still don't know.

Elixir - Chapter 6The cold night wind blew through Lily's hair, as she hurried home. Thoughts raced through her mind, barely enough time to think them, let alone understand. She tried to focus, but it seemed like everything in the last day had happened too fast. The message, the ghost, the potion, the shirt, now this. She was so busy thinking, it wasn't long before she tripped.

Lily stifled a curse, as she looked down at her leg. It had scraped across the pavement, leaving a bruise, but no cut. It stung as she tried to stand. Carefully, Lily stood up, and continued walking. Everything seemed eerily familiar, as she walked past the old houses and apart

Story of the WorldWe live in a world alone
Surrounded by cultures,
Being eaten by the anti-culture.

They say "Be tolerant!"
Don't assert what you believe.
Because that's mean,
And it hurts the other people...

But really, you want something else.
You want us all to stop believing.
Where we live in a world
Devoid of culture and morals.

Where what is right
Is only defined by me
And what is wrong
Is left for those believers

And sometimes, we fall for it.
But I cannot hold myself in,
And I will not let go of who I am.

There is a right
And there is a wrong
And I didn't write them
In the story of the world.

I won't live a life
Of the anti-cultu

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daylight stars

by =platinummyr, Aug 19, 2009, 7:40:27 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

always where you need to be
glittering sunshine into winter woods
and breathing summer into autumn days

always where i wish i were
waiting on a dawnlight never comes

never comes never comes

always right here where my heart
wisheswisheswishes she could be
in the midst of daylightstars

daylight starsby =platinummyr

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

©2009-2013 =platinummyr

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~living4him Oct 23, 2009

featured.

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=platinummyr Oct 24, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

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!BlueSilverUU Aug 26, 2009

This is cool

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=platinummyr Aug 26, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

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~oneofthose-rachels Aug 20, 2009

is just gorgeous.
i love the images in the first stanza, especially.

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=platinummyr Aug 20, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

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~SweetBlackRose13 Aug 19, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

Another

from me.

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=platinummyr Aug 19, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

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~SweetBlackRose13 Aug 19, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

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~artistic-writer Aug 19, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

Pretty!

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