[x]

the scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shoulders
are braille to me, so that i
can read your skin, so that i
can know you better.

i like to listen to your heartbeat
and how it resounds differently
from mine, just so beautifully
like two songs played in tandem
to harmonise in rounds;

i like to hold your hands
and rub your back
so that maybe my love
can find its way through your pores
and seep into your blood
(never can i find the right words
to tell you just the way you feel to me)

and to think that and how i nearly missed you
makes me miss you more
every minute and mile we spend
elsewhere.
i can't sleep with another body
in my bed,
but sleeping without you
leav

PocketLeftover religion in the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
A key that unlocks nothing
A penny, a scrap of paper
With half of your name
Written in black ink

A song that is usually in my head
In the shriveled carcass
Of a long-dead dream
In the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
With the lint

we are not a fairytalewe are not a fairytale.

I am not the strong lead with a heart of fire,
bones of steel, and eyes of vapid curiosity;
motivation seeping through
my every last intended action because
I was written this way

(the heroine falls only to rise again:
proverbial phoenix, burning out
because it is the cycle of my
life) and you, you are not

the beautiful travesty, perfectly composed
to strike me where I’m weak and
[almost]human, delicately woven
like the tapestry of my dismantling—
a subtle irony where somewhere, a writer
chuckles softly, understanding

we are blinder than church mice, born
in a makeshift world of darkness where
I&rsquo

Onceyour beauty lies restless behind those
hills, where you fought valiantly. and
the man you once were was brave and kind,
but now you are possessed by a passenger
of darkness, whispering words of your
loneliness.

the man you once were is forgotten, and
the man you are today, is only a ghost, a
shadow, of what you were before.

SurelyIt was raining
when we kissed for the first time,
for the last time.

Thin rivulets
sunk into the shrunken space
between our bodies
and divided us
like nothing could before,
like everything will
from now
until that never again
when we will
see each other once more,
no more.

Your eyes were
that bewitching shade
of dull brown blue
with all of the light darkness
whirling
in a placid pond
around a pupil
overflowing with vacancy,
and me
and my frowning smile.

The winter heat
fell like a rising tide
and,
for our every breath
was another death
so black and full of life --
embracing our boiled ice skin
as we drew apart,
came together and broke free

Condemnedbeneath the beaten earth they lay,
their dreams condemned to ashes,
and our restless bodies stretch,
for forgiveness, for direction –

survivors of the abyss,
amidst wide-eye, silent soldiers –
so many dead, so many maimed,

how many graves are we standing on, today?

Life, Death And A Pork Chop SandwichAll tangled up, hard to breathe
This steel cloud day that swirls
With heat and pounding hammers
I shake in my boots and cough up
Blood, rust and damaged flesh
Waiting for the second coming
Maybe next time around there'll be
Some chance for more than this

A twisted barbed wire halo
Wrapped tight around my skull
Blinding white light aura
Swarming with flies I'm flying
To pieces, thousands of shards
Cannot be brought back together
But I will remember the summer
Of my first Chevrolet in each bit

Gleaming bits of glass in the desert
Each reflecting a different moment
Still, now, enduring until the waves
Of a new ocean sweep them away
No pain

FossilizedLiving proof of fossils alive,
and no horseshoe-crab am I.

Nor, inhabitable harsh compression of plates,
residing under humid marsh-scapes.

I mold into the walls, as chalky old coal.
But I am no mineral, no era.
I am not, Mesozoic.

Through the ages
Iron
Bronze
silver, gold and heroic.

I remain a still-life; and no Iduna's apples would retain my youth
No magic fountains, or time devices, or wrist watches.
I am the machine of time.
The watcher, omnipotent, the wise.

But

no God am I

Somewhere, sweet tangy sap trolleys down cracked bark.
Somewhere, celestial bodies erupt unseen.
Somewhere, a abrupt breeze blows overturned bi-cycle tire

SisterSister

A sister is like a soul mate;
Someone who is always there
to guide me through fate.

A sister is,
a part of childhood that I cannot erase;
A sister like you,
is one that I would never replace
because you always know how to
put a smile on my face.

I know I can depend on you
to always be there for me;
This is one hundred percent guaranteed!

I've had great memories with you
in the past;
and I hope there are many more
to come,
in the future.

Puppet My tears fall,

like invisible

diamonds.

My heart beats,

like soundless

drums.

Unwanted,

because of the

strings attached.

HorsepowerHorsepower

There’s a knife turnin in my soft parts
And heat burnin my mind on hard starts
The motors runnin but I lost the wheel
Just want it to be numb don’t wanna feel
Take two steps back and put it in park
Before I leave scarred up black marks
I need a u-turn on this highway
But can’t go back on the by-way
So look ahead, the pavement goes on
Break the rear-view mirror it’s gone
Contemplate
Reiterate
Put it in drive
And say goodbye
Let’s see how fast this bitch can fly

-Cygam7

nightmarethe foxes are at your bedside and singing--
feversongs,
songs of boiling thoughts
and broken muscles.
their lullabyes.
they sneak so quiet, and
somehow,
you can't quite
dream
anymore.

Lost In ConfusionMy mind is spinning without a rest
emotions whirl and twirl around
A merry-go-round gaining speed
Until the world blurrs before my eyes
What's happening? What's going on?

The simplest thought slips away
Right from my mind, fading so fast
Trying to focus, I stare and stare
Until my eyes are heavy and unclear.
I don't understand, what is going on...

Emotions rise and fall again
Within the blink of an eye
I'm crying, laughing, and depressed
A rollercoaster ride that never ends
Am I losing my mind in this ?

I try to close my eyes and rest
But the world spins me around
I feel like I am failing this test
Voices and noisies echo in my min

Here and There, Now and ThenBurnt umber dawn, swaying electric trees
Thousands of souls chant in the summer wind
Journals of the dead are read by schoolchildren
They awake shaking someone else's dreams from their heads

Static electricity on the nape of your neck
In the television, on your phone, in your dinner
The calling of a murder of crows from the trees
You remember the view from the hospital room window

A smorgasbord of life and limb, death and decay
The antiseptic smell has an undercoating of rot and dirt
Talismans won't work any more than prayers and candles
Soldiers still fight lost wars, glory in the faded night

Tall fences are built to keep the worlds separ

Why meI wanted sleep very badly
I tried my hardest to rest
I closed my eyes and laid there
But sleep didn’t come easy
I would doze off
And wake back up
Again
Why me? When I know I have to be up at 3 AM.

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Order of HistoriansGreetings, _______________________

We are the Order of Historians. As you should know, the victorious write the histories, and so many things, languages, traditions, cultures, religions, music, truth itself... have been lost.
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Orden der HistorikerGrüße, ____________________________________

Wir sind der Orden der Geschichtsschreiber. Wie Ihr sicher wisst, haben die Sieger die Geschichtsbücher geschrieben. Dinge sind... verloren gegangen, Sprachen, Religionen, Brauchtümer, Musik, die Wahrheit selbst...
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The worlds she treaded inBefore I met him, seasons had had no importance to me.

On the day we were assigned to the same task, the broken world of Draenor did not have seasons anymore. I had been a member of the Aldor, those who had remained behind to protect the remnants of our once-great cities, he had been an ally of the Scryers, who considered what had been left of this planet as their promised land.
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Nebelhauch

by ~SulZala, Jan 15, 2013, 3:45:46 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

Ein weißer Nebel über allem
Stahlgrau der Himmel darüber
Still und laut zugleich

Das Lied der Gleise, altvertraut
Züge, die über die Weltkarte tanzen
Und mich wie Boote in den Schlaf wiegen

(Etwas in meinem Kopf sagt
Dass das Gleisbett genauso bequem sei
Wie die Sitze)

(Ich glaube ihm nicht
Egal wie oft es mich
Daran erinnert)

Beissend kalt ist die Luft
Schlimmer noch wenn der Wind weht
Oder es regnet

(Ich vergesse immer
Dass der Winter
Von Dezember bis Februar geht)

Musik lässt mich träumen
Und für einen Moment Ruhe finden
Von dem Sturm in meinem Kopf

Manchmal führt sie meine Hand
Als ob ich die Melodien malen könnte
Doch ich wüsste nicht wie….?

(Wahres Chaos ist ein
Weißes Blatt Papier denn
Keine Bewegung ist wahrhaftig ohne System)

Ich sehe was andere schaffen und
Frage mich, was ich bis jetzt getan habe
Ich möchte so sein wie sie

Mein Weg
Führt
Durch dichten Nebel

Ein Gewirr von Fäden an mir
Da hin, dort hin, Leuchttürme,
Sturmglocken

Worte und Taten
Wie eine Schere
Die Fäden trennt

Worte und Taten
Wie Finger
Die neue Fäden spinnen

Alte Leuchttürme, Sturmglocken
Die meine Muster nicht mögen
Noch hänge ich an ihnen

Leuchttürme, Sturmglocken in der Ferne
Wege, Wege, Wege, Wege
Wie Spinnennetze und Tautropfen

Worte wie Gleise
Wie Seile
An einem schmalen Pfad

Nicht wie die Fäden
Der Leuchttürme und Sturmglocken
Die mich festhalten

Muster vor meinen Augen, in meinem Kopf
Noch kann ich
Sie nicht entziffern

Worte hinter meinen Augen
Ich verstehe sie
Nicht

Wie die Worte
Die manchmal
zu meinen Ohren finden

Das Spinnennetz ist
schöner als das Fertighaus, doch
Noch spinne ich nicht gut genug

Spinnennetze, Tautropfen
Leuchttürme, Sturmglocken, Fäden
Tanzen über die Landkarte

Muster, Muster, Muster, Muster
Leichte und schwere zu erkennen
Andere noch nicht

Ich mag den
Weißen Saum über allem
Und den Regen

Ich mag die
Warme Brise
Und das Zwielicht

Ich mag das
Wasser
Und die Schatten

Ich mag den
Geruch der Erde
Nach dem Sturm

Grenzen mag ich
Nur manchmal
Ganz selten

Und nur
Wenn andere sie
Für sich selbst ziehen

Nebelhauchby ~SulZala

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

wenn ich dieses monster in einem meiner deutschbücher gefunden hätte mir der anweisung es zu interpretieren, hätte ich das buch an die wand geworfen.
ich weiß bis heute nicht, wie man so etwas schreibt oder interpretiert, und ich habe das da oben an einem tag geschrieben.
was zum.
hirn, was tust du. (unfug, wie immer)

~AngelWithLittleHands Jan 23, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

ich finde es wunderschön!! es ist von ganz tief drinnen!
und ich glaube weniger aus dem hirn, als aus der seele.

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