Bardic-Tomes-Poetry

Dear fellow, might I ask you, what is love? Love, young lady, is unpredictable. It makes you crazy like a drunken dove. Once you're in it, you are in great trouble. Love can be all sorts of different things. Be it parental, friendship, or puppy. We go through all sorts of silly fun flings. It makes us all warm, joyful, and happy. Love makes us persons extremely crazy. It makes us lose our perfect sanity. It makes us all nutty and quite hazy. I hope this answer is in clarity. Alas, what has happened to little me? It seems I have fallen in love with thee.

A beautiful lady, with eyes of fire that echo at all hours. A lady with a sweet pure face, made me think that heaven was missing a grace. An angel that fell from heaven, made me fall myself, onto cloud eleven. With a soul of gold and a caring heart, I can't stand the thought of us being apart. Even though I'm out of your league, I wish you all happiness indeed. For the man who ends up with his life shared with yours is a person whom I empathy like no more.

'I would promise you until always ends, but I want to live forever.' cyanide poems dripped off his thin lips. wreathing water-ink. something like saliva and coughed-up calligraphy. up-turned cheekbones: a smile dancing to the surface: a parody of laughter-- pallid and festering. 'you're a stranger, so why should i care.' albatross hands. dragged out; crashing again. 'you'll vanish today,' fingers chilled to sticks of flesh and bone. 'not for the first time, i hear--or the last.' face floating: a harsh white sky. spume and spray spread out like a too-taunt sheet. surrender reaching: frozen and languid. longing

 i am running with kites on runways; slipping smiles into the breeze. throwing paper airplanes down terminals; fluttering dreams in turbines. i could've called anyone there a liar-- but i only found me inside my head. and if i learned that feathers leave papercuts, i might not be here: afraid of flying with the feeling of melting wax between my fingers

 'what are you scared of?' she was too pale to be held against the sun: so she leans against it until you can't see her face. her eyes were chalk-smudges on blackboards, blurred against a backdrop of white-washed walls. her outline was all fade-out and lace, as white as winter could be. her words were quiet like stains are, clinging to a curtain in the window. just trying to blend into the pattern, or at least not become part of it. and when she breathes her chest swells with see-through lungs--hoping that if you focus, you'll see right through her glass skin. after all, she's just a smudge of the wrong varnish in your eyes. she shudders

   god died today. or maybe it was tomorrow. i can't remember. "ask anything." static skies; grizzled blue sketching down to sewer lines: like a wish on a dead star. the feeling of gritted teeth and fingers crossed until they break. shame tasted like a scalpel and a brick wall against my throat. and i was chewing concrete when i said, "it's okay." swallowing cinder blocks; stuffing steel under skin. sugar-sweet on my cheek, like book pages: "where have you been?"

life slouches against the door [i think i can hear it crying] sickly grins lick my lips; rub the undersides of scream-sore throats stained with the sweetest sort of bruise every nerve-- a soft atrium flow; cutting capillaries screams all my own swallowed in cotton lungs pressure in my skull fire in my veins holding the skin i had clinging tighter to fragility and i just can't find the strength to cry anymore the night stretches on for months red. red. black. i shake like a leaf

I'm the high school girl who sits alone at lunch. I'm the boy who's teased for not taking a punch. I'm the nerd who's only friends are her books. Because the words they say about her stick like hooks. I'm the homeless old man who ignores the peoples glares. I'm the little boy who cries because he thinks nobody cares. I'm the freak who tries so hard to act like she can blend. But she knows she'll never really be accepted in the end. I'm the orphan boy who is left week after week. I'm the girl who's so depressed that she chooses not to speak. I'm the grad student who's life has been so rough. Yet he's finding that still his earnings

If there was a day when nothing mattered, When the world could fade away, And reality was scattered If only for a day

Spinning through a world, Made of a thousand peices, I'm trying to fill the wholes I'm smoothing out the creases But it keeps on flipping Like channels on the T.V I'm tumbling I'm gripping On threads of reality.. ..threads of reality... ..threads of reality...