[x]

Stardust.I partook in the poison
of your miracle, for
I believed you a magician:

You pulled chronic weariness
from my marrow—

my faith,
from hazy depths grown
too accustomed.

The eggs spoiled fast:
you pulled from your hat
an act of distrust,
and you left me

with stardust,

with stardust.

Supernova WakeThey star-gazed in his brain
(taking telescopes to lynching sanity)
to see just how he breathed…

how curtained eyes with lion’s mane
concealed inhaling pleas,
which carefully fell
from the shelter of paradox lips
and the crevices of chapped lies…

how tombstones bled into his teeth—
and heartbreak on his tongue—
and how under the belly of manta ray skies,

he laid to rest the dreams
he once did dare to dream.

a new ocean to explore.Selling souvenirs,
falling through the atmosphere;

my heart is nothing
but a thread on unsure sleeves,
fraying at the seams.

Yet I still come home to
your crystal clavicles,

giving salt to shores;

a new ocean to explore.

Sea
Her love was bone white,
unblemished and
stunning

[ but never like diamonds. ]

Truth then became water to
pruning fingers and splitting lips,
while she drowned
in the mouth
of a liar like me.

with the only apathy I could feign. You and I:

makeshift souls of birdsong,
because we’d only word-etched ribs
and hearts incompatible with stillness.

We’d breathe trust in parallel irises,
just to see hope fall before ruin;
darkness was learned better swords than opponents,
and they stabbed as swift as sure.

I and You:

regretting in weeping,
for love never learned to be held—
for souls always seemed to be cracked
by each stretching tongue of longing.

Perhaps love is lost before it is found,
and perhaps love stays lost to hearts
gifted without the affinity for li

had I wished for sight.My wish-on-me star,
whose ears I filled to secret’s brim,
whose implosions I hemmed
still layers deeper:

I’m sorry I wore stitches
and scabs with try-agains.

You sacrificed paper dreams,
Crumpling and sending airplane
answers until my skies were
wishgiving.

Apologies have sweetened
on tight-pressed lips—
a thick and sultry wine—

but you’re now constellating
apparitions, in city skyscapes;
and my vocal chords
are coarse sand

and silence.

.Were We Not MarionettesI bend
as
she bends,
arms a graceful
bridge of mourning—

our eyes
rippling plains of remembrance.
(but at least we remember)

I lean beside
her,
both hopeless
heaps of wood
and string;

pirouettes fall
in time to blurry
rivers

and irises plead
only as allowed:

moisturizing this
shell of
splintered skin.

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.

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.

You gave me sunset loveShe was grass-stained
with bleeding, bare-foot
dreams,

because she’d always said
that shoes were for porcelain girls
afraid of callous skin.

and she was not fear.
not anymore.

when it crept in on white
manicured edges,
she would make lions of trembling girls,
which craved and devoured
from her temples
a sunset-blossom
love.

You can't hurt me anymore.

lessons in surrenderi.
She wished to be dressed in poetry
but she didn’t understand that
imagery fades and that metaphors
are too easily forgotten.

ii.
She asked why I didn’t utilize my
alliteration eyes—why I hid the tag
‘ hello my name is: writer ’
beneath San Francisco bays
and rotting ink grenades,
still in dead crusade.

iii.
I broke pencil shavings in
skybound veins, just to taste
the words
and I bled like a sinner
for mere dreams of some redemption.

“I’m only a poet of capitulation”

The Icarus Effectsimplicity is
that skies are blue
that grass is green
and that shoulder blades
are wingless planes.

I used to be able to whine
And sniffle my way through confusion;
the hunched knobs of my spine
would molt for nuclear rain—
would search for whetted humeri
to tear and liberate pluming
horizons.

I adulated stars
and the principle of
weightlessness,
and I drank salt from the shoreline
of these beggar wings;

pacific suicide.

Dear Foolish Heart:You don't match my sleeves today.

1/4/12 ( Sorry that these all suck so badly T^T )Migration's Flight

I wave from misty bogs,
knee deep in frosted ‘love,’
as agony flies from my chest,

like sparrows…

and they take off

in search
of colder climates.

David

I once set foot on a star
named David;

he was Saturn:
encompassed in perfect
unity.

He took my hair from clouds;
and in night,
he stilled my traveling bones.

And just as a star,
he imploded,
into someone else’s universe,

to revolve around someone else’s sun.

but what more could one ask
Of a star so bright?

Nephylym

You sit atop winged seraphs
and stake your claim of might;
I am ever still, sculpted heartbreak…
parasitic fr

To You...Words… they were just words:
They could never be held
between ribs, engraved and memorized
with the sacredness of biblical verses
and loving confessions.

No matter how I drew
your devoted breath,
the beauty of words spoken
were lost;

their use was for mounting
need,
for surmising emotions only
fleeting and cold…

They never were tools to court,
s o f t l y ,
and to worship,
wholly;
they never gave to closed
hearts and eyes: They never made to feel.

To you,
words were frivolous—trivial
(and I was nothing but a rambling fool)

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Submitted: January 22
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Ink Languid

by ~Nullibicity, Jan 22, 2013, 8:52:29 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

[ I watched ]

she tore sanity
from poetry scabs,
manicures fraying—
chipping.

[ I wept ]

she chased words
beneath scarred vows
within her
drowsy veins.

[ I broke ]

she hung and sang
from her tired seams:

_{“I finally feel alive.”}

Ink Languidby ~Nullibicity

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

I felt a little inspired (hence all the odd additions.)
I hope it didn't fall flat; I rewrote it several times hoping to avoid this.
... is the ending perhaps too weak, as I'm starting to suspect? ~~(or straight to scraps?) : P~~

Crititque/feedback is much appreciated!

_{_{(Hello and thank you to all my new watchers and supporters!
Especially a very wonderful ~RenosGirl77 who commented on several of my pieces.
I hope to reply to you all soon~)}}

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*bloodawni Feb 10, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

This is a beautiful example of GOOD formatting in a poem.

I don't think the ending is weak at all, the rest of the poem builds well and your final line really completes it.

A very enjoyable read.

~Nullibicity Apr 7, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

I'm speechless. Thank you!

It was my first time really using brackets like that, so I am elated that you think they were used well

=schongslipper Feb 2, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

brackets are overused, but these aren't. I love it, and view it as two different people, though you probably meant them as one. The first stanza is gorgeous, best part of the poem. Great work here.

~Nullibicity Feb 4, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

When I read your comment, my spirit soared: You understood it! I did not know if I made it too subtle, or if perhaps I had not connected it right... but this was indeed supposed to originally be seen as two different people. You have a talent for really delving into the heart of my work, and I am really appreciative of that!
To hear you also liked the brackets... I am so happy! I was really nervous about using them at first, but I just didn't like the look of parenthesis.
I must thank you for all your lovely words!! I am so happy to be receiving them

=schongslipper Feb 5, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

That I understood it is only a reflection on how well the poem communicates itself. Great job using a hard technique well.

*L0NE-W0lf Jan 23, 2013

Excellent imagery. Your descriptions are so unique.

~Nullibicity Jan 26, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

awww, you. Thank you so much, as always. I was so happy to receive this wonderful comment.

*L0NE-W0lf Jan 30, 2013

Well you're absolutely welcome.

~UkeBug Jan 23, 2013 Student Writer

Drowsy veins...mmmm excellent visual. Me gusta

~Nullibicity Jan 26, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you! I'm thrilled that you liked it

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Ink Languidby ~Nullibicity

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