The Man and the MoonHer mouth corners hung themselvesand I began to wonder if that was the death of them.A simple, quiet death;without broken fingernails lining the wallswith the stripes of a despairing end.I began to ache with the questioning in my heartwith the echoes reverberating in my capillariesof her face scorching sunshine in her smileright before it crumpledand nothing was left but a frowning moonset firm in its resignation to an upcoming eclipse.
the scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shouldersare braille to me, so that ican read your skin, so that ican know you better.i like to listen to your heartbeatand how it resounds differentlyfrom mine, just so beautifullylike two songs played in tandemto harmonise in rounds;i like to hold your handsand rub your backso that maybe my lovecan find its way through your poresand seep into your blood(never can i find the right wordsto tell you just the way you feel to me)and to think that and how i nearly missed youmakes me miss you moreevery minute and mile we spendelsewhere.i can't sleep with another bodyin my bed,but sleeping without youleav
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 anymoreand his confusion is strangely endearing.But there’s a lyricism to his words that I love,poetic lines inserted between the daily grindof character names and who said what;voiceless boys in white a
PocketLeftover religion in the pocketOf my trenchcoatA key that unlocks nothing A penny, a scrap of paperWith half of your nameWritten in black inkA song that is usually in my headIn the shriveled carcass Of a long-dead dreamIn the pocket Of my trenchcoatWith the lint
SurelyIt was rainingwhen we kissed for the first time,for the last time.Thin rivuletssunk into the shrunken spacebetween our bodiesand divided uslike nothing could before,like everything willfrom nowuntil that never againwhen we willsee each other once more,no more.Your eyes werethat bewitching shadeof dull brown bluewith all of the light darknesswhirlingin a placid pondaround a pupiloverflowing with vacancy,and meand my frowning smile.The winter heatfell like a rising tideand,for our every breathwas another deathso black and full of life --embracing our boiled ice skinas 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 breatheThis steel cloud day that swirlsWith heat and pounding hammersI shake in my boots and cough upBlood, rust and damaged fleshWaiting for the second comingMaybe next time around there'll be Some chance for more than thisA twisted barbed wire halo Wrapped tight around my skullBlinding white light auraSwarming with flies I'm flyingTo pieces, thousands of shardsCannot be brought back togetherBut I will remember the summerOf my first Chevrolet in each bitGleaming bits of glass in the desertEach reflecting a different moment Still, now, enduring until the wavesOf a new ocean sweep them away No pain
SisterSisterA sister is like a soul mate;Someone who is always thereto 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 replacebecause you always know how toput a smile on my face.I know I can depend on youto always be there for me;This is one hundred percent guaranteed!I've had great memories with youin the past;and I hope there are many more to come,in the future.
Pretty little things called words and dustif you weren't a hypocrite,you'd be wrapped in the sweetestperfumes (learning how to engulf the ocean with your lungs and think of how to cup it in your hands despite your broken prayers and still be beautiful)dance with the gypsies'till noon (a quake in your hips like the thrust of continents and the faultlines emanating from your spine, but still so, so graceful)sing with the nymphsin tune (your voice, it's growing old, raspy even. your throat's burning dry like a monsoon faltering in a desert, and tones still octaves powerful)be nestled in a king's armssoon (oh, you precious little thing. how
Lost In ConfusionMy mind is spinning without a restemotions whirl and twirl aroundA merry-go-round gaining speedUntil the world blurrs before my eyesWhat'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 againWithin the blink of an eyeI'm crying, laughing, and depressedA rollercoaster ride that never endsAm 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
Puppet My tears fall, like invisible diamonds. My heart beats, like soundless drums. Unwanted, because of the strings attached.
A Night By the FireNo light,The light sired by the nightAll above whilst the day's delightsNow disappears from mortal sight.Faded away is the sun's power,Taking the stage now is night's sallow flower;Now mortals may behold the stars and falling shower.Set in a pit Nature's skyscraper ablazeAnd revel in the emanating heat as you gaze,Looking down on occasion when you hear a crack from the fireAnd witness "fireflies" flying away from mother's blaze;Dying shortly after but not lacking burning beauty do they desire!I look out towards the teasing shoreAnd meditate as we sit upon her door,Thinking on what my future has in store;Who I am now and even
Why meI wanted sleep very badlyI tried my hardest to restI closed my eyes and laid thereBut sleep didn’t come easyI would doze offAnd wake back upAgainWhy me? When I know I have to be up at 3 AM.
DangerousMermaids; they seduce you then hold you underVampires; will kiss your lifeblood awayMages, will turn your own mind against youWhile trolls will hunt you down if you stayRun through the woods, don’t stop for nothingMonsters wait with jaws opened wideIgnore that pretty elf, who’s probably plotting something darkFor she will torture you once she’s lured you insideOrcs; will have a craving for your fleshWhile dwarves are just prejudiced against your heightDragons are very skilled when it comes to fireWhile faeries will torment you throughout the nightSo run little weakling, don’t stop nowThe faery realm has go
Seaside HolidayI am contentto staya caterpillarWho saysyou have to change?What's so greatabout beinga butterfly?
The Garret Of My MindWelcome to the garret of my mind,where you can find the truth,outside there is only lies.Here the time embrace solitude.sit back and I will show you everything,a story without beginning and end.Out is not so simple,inside me is all difficult,and I'm forced to wear a mask,and I have no answer, so do not ask!You came expecting to find the truth,but under the dust you can't see my youth,and for every question only doubts and anguish.Out is not so simple,inside me is all difficult,and I'm forced to hide my soul,If you have an answer it's behind a wall.©2010-2012 ~ Myrkr Vörðr
Wind Of DoomWhere is the path?My blinded eyes cannot see.My heart, my breath again.And a shudder in my bones.My silent prayer walks again.But god is not here with my sins.Damnation sleep with me.I can fell the wind of the doom.Somewhere in the northern light.Where the cold is a ruthless thorn .And the wind of doom from the forest.©2010-2012 ~ Myrkr Vörðr
Dreaming the endDreaming the end In the cold of this nightWaiting the deathCalling my demonsAt the end of the lightFollowing my fateShowing my sinsIn the dark side of my lifeWaiting the end
My LandThe shadow of the bough freezes my soul, a brook noise breaks the silence,up to the hillside until to the source.Scenery of loneliness around meand a noise of bells grazes my heart,when the owl's eyes find my souls.In a desert of ice, in the forest of snow,down to the mountain, a wake of witch,with her fire and her sins.In this night of this strange life,with the creatures of the dark,I don't need to find my home.A strange equilibrium on this moment,no enough answers for my questions,in this land painted by my breath.
Dark LadyIn a winter landscape I crawl,crying in a silent solitude,a shadow dance, inside my eyes.I remember her smile full of dark.I remember her lips full of passion.I remember her breath full of death.The wind caressed her hair,the moon shoved the dark,and the silence in her smile.At the end of the world.At the end of your road.At the end of the night.She waits, the end of my life.
SomeoneSometimes, somewhere so close,in a moment of your life, someone.Close, so far away in your mind,Your eyes can see, not your heartyour eyes can see, not your mind.Some one that you don't know,Only a figure in your picture.Only a voice in the chaos,only a shadow in your eyesOnly a soul in your life,someone that you can help,someone that can help you.Only a breath that dies without you.And like the last year snow I disappear.
My NameLeave my hand, and fly awayI can lose my way without youI just forgot you and your liesI'm sick of your useless wordsNoise that breaks my silence sweetInsignificant notes of your false lifeWhen your nightmares embrace youWhen the night is so cold and blackAt the end, you shout my name.
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"Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep."
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"Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep."