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birthUntil the ovum opened like ghost skin
Pooled like the ocean
And poured from my mouth
I wasn’t aware of how god-like
We sinners could easily be
1Blaspheme, I stand out like an arrogant thorn on the briar
Cautious like bark and sap trickles down
Distant atmosphere can't carry the weight of an all knowing seed
Rupturing the rapture and drowning out the sound
Of too much fire, sparking from the night spires
That stand too high and speak riddles at my name
drowningIf love was a storm, you’d be drowning
In the waves of lightning on the distance
Between me and the sky

Your body is above clichés
I’ll bury them deep in the mossy soil
Where they’ll blossom bright ideas and words never said

I’ll paint you peace of mind
Home for a voyeur’s jealous eyes
And name the mightiest of tempest heavens after you
ArmsA slouch like Atlas from this heavy barrage
I’m not burdened but my arms are weak
Utterly missing you
And I’m shaking
they can't be takentheir bleach skin caught my eye
albino white against the wild
hair like bright sky electric in the briars

haloed sister gods shot down like fawn
evergreenUnder the cedar boughs forming scars against the sky
I found them:  brilliant, ghost-like, humble creatures
Timid like the greying clouds fearful of weeping
Drinking from a hollow in the evergreen

They scattered as they saw me
Leaving a lone shade lying decimated in the earthly compost
Fading like sand pulled flat by the tide
I knew this was how they would come to their end

The waning gibbous cannot guide them home
As there is no return for those forgotten
So they rest and worship the dark crescent cup until she fills again
Thirsting for the stagnant puddles of the evergreen
a drug or choosingYour oily prints upon my eyes
Blessed art thou
You bleed through the cracks in my walls
Eyes, pores in every centimeter of wallpaper
Watching me sleep, watching my night-mare
The horse running from the fire-like river
Pouring down the mountain to the plains below
Engulfing my atmosphere in golden red smoke
I am not addicted
The Book of PromisePracticing a faith,
A fetish that is you
I sing hymns carved by my tongue
On your skin
In awe of the quintessence
Fastened to your name
RieslingSparsely stardusted skies give way to another greycloud day
The color of sheetmetal, dishwater, old dreams dying
Thirty hours and fifty-three minutes away a woman bakes bread
I can feel the warmth of her kitchen, taste the Riesling
All the way here
Here in my small dusty apartment the lights are on
But I'm not home
aphroditeclambering lips tumble over each other like
little deer stumbling into the headlights, where
blushing cupid's bows snap shut at the slightest
whisper of a touch; as summer's broken blossom
whistles into moss, suicidal and free-falling at a
twist of the wind, dripping through honeyed-hands and
trickling down wrists. words nuzzle breath, the air
staved of acoustics that choreograph faces closer; watching as
quivering eyes thrust new-born hope, where
restless hearts knock beneath a web of ribs,
screaming silently as bodies are poured into the
stitches of aphrodite's venomo(us) fly-trap.
Sleeping Sicknessfor each night, its own hunger
glaciated- the dead winter inside my bones &
your lips.
spring and summer, respectively

we learnt
no triumph in trying
trying
try
ing

exhaustion claws up my neck,
thick & viscous
hold my head, love, til sleep fills it
til lead streams down to imprison each eyelash
reteach me to breathe
with your cinnamon exhales, slow & changeless

sleepyhead, i'll blink &
you'll be closer, again
& you will be gone-
having taught me how to be in-con-se-quen-tial

we learnt nothing
virgato the unreturnable
a place disgraced,
where (her) nothing
stays the same

memories like fingerprints
from each, their own
crime of the mind
he dreamt and never spoke

to have, to hold
never, grow old
crime of the mind
he dreams, never woke

upon returning to
a place he never left
he knows her nothing
always stays the same

across a horizon flown
larger and farther since
sky-high love, dropped

gliding on truth,
gravity and parachute

landing with words
belonging to a future verse
to be penned to no end
fauxpillarous vines creep pines
lost in cedar limbs
climb briar ladders
to reach godstatus
elevate
airplanes make loud noises in the sky
crackles of footsteps like cackling masks
smashed underfoot
bone rattle
wheezing clear god
thick brush strokes
my grey labyrinth lungs
scientistcedar, and the transparency of light
crawling through a cola bottle

you look through space
and then you look at me
and see my miniature;

sunglow, the word i use for you is
the color of premature saffron or
wild maize,

a man belly up
and being poured into it
an eon of yellow ore -
is the same wanting of living,
the same humanness broken

if i were to run my hands
through you,
i'd disappear into the ether

so long at space

were i to touch you now
it would be an old bell of sound
and you would be an hourglass
of measuring
ArdourA callous hand drawn down
dew lips, proclaiming:
“I shall never love you.”

A gentle hand against
closed eyes, in silence saying,
“You shall never love me.”
Browse More Like This

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I was caught like a child in a swing set
As she pulled me under

White lies make up the sky
In the fantastic
I can see with my eyes and my mind

In a valley void of shadows
My eyes burn back into my head
For the light was not of god, but his muses
PoetryThe sun burns down like a home in embers

On his bare connect-the-dot puzzle paper skin

I find poetry in every line

Excited like a child first learning to read
free writing practice: ii, Sometimes they wake upThe burning bush spoke to me
He said to close my eyes and count to three

I did as he said and I landed on graves
Of young babies and a sea of mothers
Resting hollowed in their arms
I walked through plague-like oceans
And landed at his feet
A thorn crowned angel
Bathed in fire
And death was a garden of fruit
He told me no tricks
No serpent tongue to take my rose
He fed my greed and pierced my chest
I saw wealth was a dead colossus
Damaged in the rain
And my head was the blank page
Where writers spit bile
And priests turn away
I will be the serpent tongue
The crowned angel of fire
Witches burning at their stakes
And the

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In your head

:iconanotherforestfire:

That everything is with no reason
All tides are simple water
But they hit us the same
The monsters in your head
Are only in your head
Transfixed
Rushing down the cavern
They wipe you out
And you sleep
Bobbing in that ocean
A starry nighted motion
That rocks you into waking

156

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:iconanotherforestfire:

In your headby ~anotherforestfire

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feed your head
©2012-2013 ~anotherforestfire
Category: Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

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November 23, 2012
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:iconkillio01:
~Killio01 Nov 27, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Ooo, pretty :)
Reply
:iconanotherforestfire:
~anotherforestfire Dec 1, 2012
thanks!
Reply
:iconkillio01:
~Killio01 Dec 1, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
welcome!
Reply
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