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The Concept of PerspectiveI unfurl with lavender,
wild and stretching possibilities
within velvet serenity.

I sway joyously with conducting trees
and fall with musical, tumbling leaves,
recognition whole;

and for once,
time does not govern
but witnesses.

I change like the seasons,
no complicated reason...
just that I do;

it is as they always say:
some things, they never change.

MonophobiaYour hand found my heart with ease,
just as your words always found cracks in weakened armor,
and with the same fluidity that constantly drew my gaze,
filling me with childish need atop the comfort of company,
even if lonely:
we were never ones to stand individually.

Then you play my heart strings,
with the skill of devoted pianists and the poise
of Egyptian princes,
garbed in such confidence I have no choice but to move my lips
to words hummed beneath your steady breath;
the words my heart stammers over,
as weak a fool as ever.

Necessities mash like fevered lips,
merging us as one being,
one entity of which to rejoice with

A Poet's RomanceShe was the quiet sort,
tsunamis tucked
within her eyes,
anxieties pinned
to pottery skin;

she would mold herself
into moonlight butterflies
and glist'ning calla lilies,

pure and white and
beautiful.

and when night cast
itself upon her in
heated, hard'ning flames,

she’d smash herself
upon the rocks
and in morning start
again.

The Wind Beneath My WingsA gust,
Ruffling the feathers of my charcoal wings
Hung low in my despair.
A tilt of the chin
Upwards,
To the dark midnight of hopes and dreams
I cannot reach,
Twinkling as if they still are beckoning me.
I was numbed.
I gave up on them long ago.

Another soft caress;
Like a push urging me gently forward.
It is not like the cold I am accustomed to,
But warm as it rushes past me.
Please wait…
I have not felt the wind in so long.

So much time spent nailed to the ground.
Do they even work anymore;
These blackened wings of mine,
Tainted with the darkness I used to dwell with
And ruined by my impurities?
Though they are ta

CrescendoCellos sing an agony of the heart;
an astringent song of parting,
tearing at tears burrowed deep within the iris.

Emptiness fills the void of your absence,
accompanied by an intolerable yearning
which asphyxiates me, submerges me
within tears I leave unshed.

Please mollify me, liberate me,
of your reminiscence, of this attentive desertion;
my trembling whispers cannot stray from your name.
I cannot dream of alien touches, or others' devoted affections:
the salvation provided for the heart I keep in darkness.
and I find I cannot blind it to the joys of light once entirely experienced,
and so candidly felt.

I blam

Crumbling FacadeHeart screaming,
Crying out for release,
Emotions wound around its surface as it
Breathes life inside your chest.
They pull tighter,
Like strings on a puppet;
The pain rips through your being,
But nothing can erase your obedient smile
And your rosy, dimpled cheeks.
If only the tears weren't falling…

UnfoundedI cram words within murky, hollow spaces,
replicating ways in which blood fills a wound.

I squeeze articles and adjectives—
supporting metaphors and similes—
into tight-fitting corners,
until that which is empty begins to bloat.

The ache of something missing,
the loss of one internal, now painfully unknown:
it finds no satisfaction within passion
and phrases so desperately created, upheld.

Why give transparent, misleading hope…
Does pleasure derive from humiliation—
the catalyzing of previously weakened hearts?
Where is the limit of cruelty defined,
if not in the cries and weeping of dreams:

Language wilts

YearningDo you know what it's like
To love someone to the point of agony?
To the point it's excruciating to know
You can never be one soul?
Do you know how it feels
To have your heartbeat sync to theirs,
And to wish, that in that moment, they could merge?

But we shall stay separated;
We can only be ourselves.
But I cannot forgive this part of me
That remains yearning for your soul.

Practice Makes PerfectI feel the blow to my very bones
And as painful as it is,
I do not cry out.
But more painful is the agony inside my chest,
The chaos,
And the constricting of my heart;
The way it skips a beat and I forget to breathe.

I guess I deserved it for my thoughtless words,
But why so hard?
Why with so much force?
And why to someone you supposedly love?
But love is pain
And without it you cannot grow closer.
So I take it all in silence,
My eyes downcast.
I look everywhere but her eyes.
I know there will be regret,
But it is nothing compared to the betrayal I feel.
She said she would never do it again.
Is this the proof of her prom

Dare to DreamSo bravely envisioning goals within your mind,
those same goals that slowly change to dreams,
reflected in your eyes not just the aspirations
of a creative mind,
but of a dreamer.

The smallest of smiles,
as if to seal the deal...

already so eager to reach your destination,
with butterfly wings strapped to your back
and arms outstretched to soar.

Bone-danceMy skeleton is night
and solace,
ever the drifter
in powdered skies and
hollowed sight.

These red rivers
stir and breathe
in bone-dance:
temptation’s lullaby
for a width and stretch of slumber.

Kisses give soul to
granite marble;
and my bones,
(oh, what dreaming bones):

they dance no more.

EnzymaticIn my tears I drowned for you
when my cries could not grow fingers to r e a c h ;
you were apathy wrapped in silent smiles,
which touched and made to feel.

I felt you—discovered you,
like children sent scavenging for
hidden notes and clues;
you were a jagged jigsaw puzzle
lovingly pieced together…

Done in silence,
through studied observations
and tentative smiles aimed at shoulder blades;
you would never grant me access
if you knew my subtle intimacy…
left one-sided and aching like
goodbyes rolled into single nights of warm

A Time of GreyYou've moved on but I remember those grey days,
ink scrawled onto worn, crumpled paper.
Words my escape, indifference my mask;
all were things I used to shove everything down.
I would keep shoving, too, until I choked on every last
one of these cruel, barbed words.
On days like this, writing seems not to be a talent,
but a curse, eating away at my soul as the bottle is sealed shut once more.

Just like those grim days which were cloudy and rainy,
I remember, quite clearly, the color that exploded from you.
Opposites attract, perhaps, but I had yearned for such brilliance:
a light in the dark, a color to disturb the grayscale.
I rem

MelancholiaI crawled beneath the skin,
nails taking crescent moons
to labored arteries,
where life birthed.

I gave rash to skin, rippling in marrow,
bulging flesh and pore…
all to break free.

I laid beneath scarlet muscle
sick with Loneliness: a bittersweet
disease of rusting hearts.

I let it throb, pound—ache,
sulking within the cradle of spine,
rocking joints to solemn sleep…

and how easily resignation
was acquired,
for they were weary,
used to hunching to sorrows
resolute

and chronic.

Hide and SeekUnder the surface,
immersed beneath disjointed segments of sky,
as beautiful a tragedy as my own circumstance;

I hang suspended in space; a child gifted to nature,
breathing in salt and subtle stains of oil,
trapped in blue so vast and
ever-stretching;
endless.

Lungs fill like little pink balloons,
full and ready to throw in friendly fire.
My chest moves with each gentle inhalation of water,
fluttering energetically at the speed of emerald hummingbirds that
joyfully flit
and fly
past coral reefs and secluded starfish,
deeper into depths of serenity and quiet:

my perfect hiding place.

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More from ~Nullibicity

When You Know TimeWhen the rustling leaves are swept away
into the vastness of Autumn sky,
and when lonely pathways become populated
with lonely contemplators,
you'll know time.

When chilly North winds blow through tall bending pines,
and when robins give chase to Summer's warmth,
you'll know time.

When the fragile bodies of butterflies dare to grace the skies,
and when the gentle kiss of dew upon grass feeds
a young doe and her fawn,
you'll know time.

When the memory of heat regains the glory of all you know it to be,
and when the leisurely waves make once again their
home on sandy beaches,
you'll know time.
Though perhaps not as well as the

WarmthPatient skies filled with splintered clouds,
each sewn into the blue expanse like organic lines of art;
they lay watch over sandalwood beaches and gossamer waves.
Rays of sunshine stretch,
extending yellow-ocher fingers as if to touch the earth below.

Without a doubt, Summer is here.

It's in each azure wave that crashes carefully onto sandy shores,
in each bite of beach salt water steals,
swallowing footprints and caressing sandcastles.

The Prince of seasons reigns,
triumphed only by its child of volatility
spawned from warm colors and frigid winds.
However, the coronation is yet to come,
laying dormant within warmth's castle,

TulipsFlowers breathe life,
stretching petals up and out.
The scent of hope is in the air;
it's every bee that pollinates the tulips,
every grain of grass that shakes off Winter's residue.
It's new life, born from death and silence.
Yet being fathered from such ghastly things
leaves no grotesque effects;
such beauty, born from destruction,
to gift what remains hope.
The cold memories are just that:
nothing to be remembered.

Frosty FingersWhite crystals of ice, gathered together to form rolling hills that
shimmer in murky sunlight.
White dusted roads and trees,
even on the branches that are closest to the sky…
This world void of color, stretching on endlessly,
and when the clouds overtake the blue expanse of sky
it all seems to merge into one;
winter's bony fingers leave nothing untouched.
Everything shivers in icy confines,
in which desperate rays of sickly amber
can neither penetrate or disturb;
here, slumber is eternal.

Solitary houses serve their sentence in frigid silence.

LeavesSighing winds trickle through branches dipped in sunlight,
and run wispy fingertips over each dangling leaf,
too busy shaking in its icy presence to maintain a firm grip.

This leaf falls,
sliding downwards like the lazy trail of paint when
it escapes its designated wall.
It turns in the air: flipping and twirling,
exactly how children twirl dandelion stems between pointers and thumbs.
It just spins and spins, having patience with each completed circle.

Finally, it lays a kiss so tender upon forgotten pavement.
Thin edges curl inwards with time,
in vain attempts to keep freezing winter winds away from colored warmth,
now nothing b

My Somber KingAutumn, my Autumn, why must thou perish,
thy life cut short by falling leaves and frost?
Icy fingers grip your colors harshly,
strangling, leaving your vibrancy dead.
Must I watch as leaves begin to depart,
whipped violently away by Winter's hand?
Curse this cold, this snow, this "heaven on earth,"
it relieves me not of my memories.
Please, leave me not, my reason, my color;
the greyest monotones fill your absence.

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Submitted: November 4, 2012
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04 - Remember Me

by ~Nullibicity, Nov 4, 2012, 2:51:35 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Traditional Fixed Forms

Think not of decay when reapers lay claim,
Nor of sharp loss in following mourning;
On that day let hushed pleasantries acclaim.
And kiss the life from dulled eyes, unseeing.

Find not thy feet above flower-laid stones:
‘Neath earthly linen I shan’t rouse for thee.
So whether memories make new or old:
Beloved love, remember me fondly.

Sell thy sorrows to swift merchanting winds,
Be stolen by thy existence and time.
Overlook me for sanity’s defense,
But discard me not to the undefined.

My life doth re-begin through memory,
So my beloved love: remember me.

04 - Remember Meby ~Nullibicity

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Traditional Fixed Forms

In my personal opinion, this is the best sonnet I've ever done. I really immersed myself, and it really began to get personal when I thought of it in terms of application; I would really like it if people could approach my passing this way.

I hope the emotion can strike the reader into the thought and effort I've put into this (I spent about 2 hours on it

... and it's still rough in some places T^T)

Feedback/critique is deeply appreciated

___________________

Submitted to #Open-Mic-Poetry's sonnet contest. Inspiration struck, so I decided I would not lose anything by entering.

love 3 3

~~joy 0 0~~

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~PassionandPromise Apr 22, 2013 Student Writer

I absolutely love this- it actually reads like something you'd hear from Shakespeare, and quotes from my favourite sonnet by him- "No longer mourn for me when I am dead." I love your poetry, thank you so much for sharing it here, to all the world. You have an amazing gift.
xxx

AND IT ISN'T ROUGH ANYWHERE!!!!

~Nullibicity Apr 24, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Why thank you! I honestly am not sure how to reply after hearing such a compliment! I did mess up the "stress-unstress, etc" part, though, of the sonnet. However, this is just so dear to me that I cannot change it... but I was so pleased you could like it as is in all its malfunctioned glory

No one has ever thanked me for writing before

I must thank you for reading and taking the time to comment! I am so touched that my writing could have such an affect (: thank you so very much

~RenosGirl77 Jan 30, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Wow. You...just...Don't die, but I simply have to compare you to Shakespeare and Keats on this one. Wow that's incredible. The extent to which you were immersed in your inspiration really comes through - I would agree with you that this is definitely one of your very best!! Loved it to absolute pieces - I hope you don't mind, but my walls are probably going to be covered in your awesomesauce poetry pretty soon!! XD

~Nullibicity Apr 9, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

What compliments!!

Thank you! You make my spirit lift so far! Although, I did botch the iambic pentameter as I usually do with my sonnets. Though... I like this one far too much to revise it.

Thanks for such nice words! They made me smile (:

~RenosGirl77 5 days ago Hobbyist Writer

You are most welcome, you absolutely deserve them!! XD I seriously cannot express how much I love your poetry.

I didn't even notice any discrepancies with the iambic pentameter. This was seriously amazing; it is pasted onto my wall in pride of place as we speak. XD

I'm so glad to hear you find my comments as helpful and uplifting as I find your poems!! And thank you so much for always taking the time to reply to me.

~Nullibicity 5 days ago Hobbyist Writer

and I cannot express how grateful I am for this! You are truly a great and wonderful support to me!

Oh goodness. Every time you mention "the wall" I do, like, the most embarrassing, internal happy dance

I am honored to have my work on your wall. I can not think of a better place for it to be! I wouldn't want it anywhere else.

You are most welcome! I quite love you dearly

thank you for always taking the time to both comment and reply!

~RenosGirl77 5 days ago Hobbyist Writer

Aww, I'm so happy to hear I am able to help you that much!!

You're a fantastic source of support for me too.

Hee hee, glad to hear it!! XD It's this one wall of my bedroom, and it's like totally covered in your amazing poetry - I'm running out of space!! It's really fantastic, because the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning is one of your awesome poems, and it really motivates me and lets me start my day with a spring in my step. Plus, whenever my friends come over we nearly always end up having like a huge in-depth discussion about one of your pieces, just because they're up there on the wall. XD

Love you too my dear friend, you are absolutely welcome.

~barbzzp Dec 28, 2012

exalt! you are one amazing poet.

~Nullibicity Jan 2, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you so very much! I am unsure if my writing is really worthy of such compliments, but I shall thank you all the same: I really appreciated your words; they warmed my heart!
Thank you, also, for the watch: I hope to not disappoint you in the future.

~scorpiandoll Nov 19, 2012 Hobbyist Photographer

I hate myself for my bad english

I just know that this is beautiful but I can't make a 'valuable' comment because my english suck

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