[x]

Wish To FlyFrom My Heart
I Sprout My Wings
Look to The Sky
And Begin To Fly

At This Moment
I Start To See
How Tiny You Are
Just For Me

I Soar Past You
I Fly In Circles
Yet I'm Still Bound
To This Solid Ground

From My Heart
I Sprout My Wings
Look To The Sky
And Wish To Fly

I start to weep
As I Lay There
My Chains Hurt
As The Devil Smirks

I am becoming Insane
As I start to break
Play by His Rules
Or He'll Be So Cruel

Twas Once Destined
Now It Can't Be Helped
I Wanted To Fly
Instead I Start To Cry

As I Realize This Faith
Has No Hopes or Dreams
As I Start To Fall
All I Can Do Is Crawl

Without You --- With YouWithout You

Loneliness,
consumes my soul.
Emptiness & darkness,
consume the carcass.
Not even,
a hollow shell,
remains.
Without You.
Without Your Love,
in my Life.

© 02JAN2010 James Elron Mings

With You

Overabundance,
floods my soul!
Wholeness & Light,
overwhelm my being!
Lavish Li

You saidYou said you wanted to get to know me,
But you never ask me any thing.
You said you really like me,
But you don't know me.
You said you hope that we have things in common,
But you won't take the time to find out.
You said you wanted to talk more,
But you won't talk to me.
You said Hi,
But I said Bye.

Be Not My Goddess

Let me never say
"I am nothing without you,"
for that would make me nothing altogether,
a hollow creature-
and such a thing can only be a parasite.

Let me never say
"I need you,"
for that is not love.
No man has ever loved opium or heroin,
he despises them even as he craves them.
So I would think of you.

Let me never with shaky countenance and weak bended knee
beg you for anything-
O, let me never grovel!
Let these lips never whisper
"I am not worthy,"
for in saying those words I would make them true.

sealing your pain beneath mineyou read me like an open book;
ink splattered at the tips of your
lips and each sentence was
wrapped with lies but the
pretty words make you happy;
and seeing you happy
made me happy.
just a little

with a heart carved from
stone, I try to be constant;
yet I'm weathered by the
rain as you continued to
kick me into the cracks of
the sidewalk; but I saw
you smile as I landed in
the spot that you wanted
me to be; and seeing you
smile made me
smile. just a little

I'm like a picture you want
to burn; ignited from your
hatred and anger, flames
dancing under the midnight
sun; I saw you cry and
I wanted to cry as well, bu

Like thisHolding my ivory hips
like fragile wings,
you pull me in
with your bony embrace.

Outside the window,
dark branches cast shadows,
the gray sky making the
branches dance, dance.

Soft whispers
feel like butterflies
on my earlobe,
tiny soft feet tickling.

The tips of your hair
brush my face
and I oh so wish we could
just stay like this.

SilenceSilence

Silence,
Is golden,
It's true,
What many say,
But silence is also,
A weapon,
Which too many freely,
Give away

Silence,
Like knowledge,
Is power,
And often misunderstood
Some few,
Remain silent,
Not because they had to,
But because they could

Silence,
Can be suffering,
It can be,
Total misery,
But silence,
Should never,
Ever,
Be mistaken for defeat

Silence,
Is a tool,
Sometimes the sharpest,
Of them all,
And it echoes,
Hollow and accusing,
Like a voice,
In an empty hall

Silence,
Can be a gamble,
But not for me,
I think
Silence does not,
Sound weakness,
For me it sounds,
Victory

jlp January 26

PhotographCapture this moment if you dare
As we, in a daze, do lovingly stare
Into eyes oblivious to you
While left to right and centre you move
To the beat of your camera flashing
In the midst of our love making
Coaxing, ordering, directing us
To bring to life our latent lust

You, our most welcome voyeur
By your photograph our love endures

The SoundIt slid down my throat
A torrent of sweet, unbearable warmth
It coated my soul
And that was when it began.

A blistering decresendo, the borders blurring in pain
Wieghtlessness
Timelessness

I'm adrift - or am I being carried?
Or am I laying still on Absinthe Dreams
Reality a thin whiff of smoke
Flown like a banner over God's forbidding erection?

She was there, then she was three.

someone help me

Orange all around, a colour that defies Leonardo
and God.

This orange laughs,
it is not a particle or a wave.
It is not red plus yellow
And it is not the colour of fruit.
It's not really even orange.
But it's everywhere.

Like the

Sick

She laid, a cold sweat over her exposed skin, on a bed she didn't remember making that morning. In fact, the ill girl didn't remember purchasing the bed or painting the walls that soft peach color or putting the linen pillowcases on the pillows she had never laid her head on before.

Therefore, she could only assume that this was not her room. While usually this would be a problem but there was a fever and, although it had just broken, her mind was still muddled. The fever had probably gone due to the cool, barely dampened cloth on her forehead and, as her head turned to look at the bedside table, the half-drank glass of water, vitamins and l

Non somnium est  The grind is
  empty; the mug
    is dry. I blame
  sweaty sheets.

Grit falls
between the cracks
  in my eyes, grating
like boulders over
   bloodshot deserts
thirsting for repreive.

Yet the work
is unfinished, the
  passion of the [mind]
is a heavy brick on
   the accelerator
in my brain.

   Sleep is a
  snow-white death,
    soft as powder
  cut with lime.

The world is
a silent place.
  The church is a
perfect flaw, a
   frost-shatte

SafeThe usual items-televisions, radios, computers,
money we left lying around-
were all missing.

The obvious sort of missing,
as blatant as the crack in our door,
soulfully snapped,
which the thief needn't have even kicked in!
We had left the front windows ajar
in that Indian summer.

In the bedroom lay
a clean empty square, dust settled around it,
where the safe had been, resting
on the ground in the closet.

I imagine the thief opening it in evening light,
a night tiger at the river where he drinks alone,
lapping at the secrets of our precious lives.

I think of him pulling out the hard black gun
in its sinister pieces,

The Worth of a HaStop wasting neurons, dont think about him
Think about me, think about us, about what we used to be.
I know we weren't a couple, we weren't together
But we were more than friends, we were something better.

Hahaha!

We never dated, never went out, but I dont care,
I knew i loved you, and those words I always shared.
The things we did, though however small,
Mock what I do now, every single one and all.

Haha

But you want to know something funny?
I still jump, each time you say honey.
What happened, to us then, is irrepairable
But you know, you're still... still irreplacable...

Ha...

I dont know what to do without you now,
Will i c

broken promises and petals.his voice breaks through her mind, travels down her back, and shocks her heart.

---

his first kiss tastes like candy canes and cotton candy clouds; sweet, fluffy, and nothing else remotely different.

she runs her fingers over his face, and closes her eyes.

her fingers dance out a soft, beautiful dance, and it soon brings her to a high.

"i see." she breathes.

;;

his tenth kiss tastes like salt and pepper; unusual combination, and yet absolutely needed in everything.

her fingers traces out the soon-to-be-familiar lines of her new found piece of art.

colours flow out of her mind's eye and starts to stain the paper.

;;

his fiftieth kis

My butterfly loverHe is the nectar that draws and feeds,
He is the pollen that grips and the flower that seeds,

Entice the kisses of my butterfly wings; love,
Fly from doubts made in chrysalis ; my dove,

Softly the breeze guiding you and I,
As we endlessly seek, knowing the sky,

Empty for filling the reason our hunger be,
Healing; your love bringing hope from heart's debris,

You are joy's flower set apart from the weeds,
You are my love; intriguing, lovely much more than my heart needs

Our season of reason will be eternal for:
He is the nectar that draws and feeds,
He is the pollen that grips and the flower that seeds,

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Kids in BlanketsWe lie in darkness,
Crushed together closely,
Wrapped up in double blankets;
In the hope of dual warmth.

And I remember an article,
Or an old wives tale,
Or some awkward fact,
And we both laugh because

We've been talking all night,
And maybe longer, like this;
These little jokes-
With careful asides-
Fraught with suggestion;
Conveyed with eyebrows,
Hands; this close feeling.

And there, in the dark,
There is a charge, a gentle spark;
Broken again by laughter, sleep
And a deeper friendship.

The MoundThis is where I come to sit
And stare out the great mess of it;
The houses that leech into green,
The busy little worker bees.

I play God from up on my mound.
Only...

It's not really a mound;
Just a summit, with tarmac surround;
As if the hill asked for a quick prune
And instead recieved a buzz cut.

I come, I sit and I stare out.
I never have nothing to cry about.
So wind whips my face,
And rain lashes my cheeks,
And I stare out the great mess of it.

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Signs and Symbols

by *EMort, Jan 12, 2010, 12:49:45 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Traditional Fixed Forms

You ask me questions;
Perfect words, with cruel intent,
Sent to make me blush.
But I return to sender.

We laugh, we to and fro
and sit in quiet moments,
with our fingers interlaced.

And just before you flush with awkwardness,
and your pale skin betrays all;
You lean in and blind me,
With your supple lip.

Signs and Symbolsby *EMort

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Traditional Fixed Forms

This is something I wrote, not so long ago, when the words were just rolling of the nib of my pen.

Really I'd like to know what you guys think about the ending, I'm not sure about whether or not it's too abrupt. And if you can think of a better title suggestions are welcome h_h.

`innocencedied2nite Apr 5, 2010 Writer

I actually really liked this. The flow is good and has a nice rhythm. However, I felt it kinda fell flat at the end. The last stanzas didn't match the rest of the poem, and I found myself caught off guard. You talk about cruel intent, and that made me think of some sort of a psychological game being played between the two, especially when it came to "return to sender"

And that worked through the second verses as well. But in the third, it ends sweetly, and kinda broke the flow for me.

It's a good poem, just unexpected to me.

Either way, keep up the good work. You have a nice talent here.

*EMort Apr 7, 2010

Most me my recent poems have kind of focused on key moments in relationships. This particular one has that ending because that is how it ended. It was all cruel but fun flirtation until it ended. Think me it as a metaphor in structure

~IndigoSkyes Jan 31, 2010 Hobbyist Writer

This is so sweet! I really like it. The ending is good. "Supple lip" is awesome. Great job!

*EMort Feb 7, 2010

thankyou h_h

~IndigoSkyes Feb 7, 2010 Hobbyist Writer

You're welcome!

!Avocado-AGO-GO Jan 21, 2010 Hobbyist Writer

Must. Stop. Staring. At. ICON!

I want to hug it SO BAD.

*ahem!* Moving on.

I like the idea of 'Return to Sender' as a title also! I also think the ending end where it should. If you get what I mean. I don't feel it could have ended on any other note.

Also, I LOVE the first stanza!! Was the count on purpose? If not, DUDE.

If you did NOT notice, you have a count of 5,7,5,7. In other words, a spot on rhythm!

That said, your rhythm wavers a bit during the third stanza. Not because you change it, per say. But the first line is a little to long. That said though, changing it would probably loose something. Gah!

Ehh, I tried to be helpful. But I DO love this! It's so sweet!

And goddammit that pikachu is way to cute!!

*EMort Jan 21, 2010

Lol ^^ thank you very much and yes I did that completely by accident h_h I have the proof (a small scrap of paper with scrawling handwriting) I didn't even realise till you told me. Return to sender was something I considered when i put this up but I wasn't sure whether it was a bit cliche having the title in the poem hmmmm.....requires further sleeping on

...

P.S. If you see this pikachu with out my name underneath could you message me....I really want to thatnk the person I stoles it off so long ago...

!Avocado-AGO-GO Jan 21, 2010 Hobbyist Writer

lol will do if I see it!

=ThexDarkestxMoment Jan 20, 2010 Student Writer

I think this is a very nice, short poem.

Structure wise, I would add one line to the middle part so that each of the thingies (for lack of a better word) are quadruplets.

Content wise, I like it, and I didn't find anything wrong with the ending; I thought it fit nicely, at least how I interpreted the poem.

I do however agree with the title not exactly fitting. I personally would make it have to do with postal services, like "Return to Sender" or something. I don't know, I am not the best at naming poetry, but I try.

Good job!

*EMort Jan 20, 2010

Thank you!(the word you were looking for is stanza

) I'm waiting for a chance to edit h_h I've got way to much graphic design work but will think about what you sed. Know what you mean about naming poetry, most of the time when I write these, they're just as they come, so I always struggle to find something that fits "Signs and Symbols" was just something I chose spur of the moment to put for the DA form

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