Natures Tears Splash To The Earth
To Flowers And Trees They Offer Birth
Soil Caress The Warmth Of The Sun
Life's Mysteries Which Gaia Has Won
Creation Stirs Behind The Veil Of Time
Bringing Forth A New Era That Of Mankind
Though But An Ember In Natures Fires
None Has Such Strange Whims And Desires
The Candle Flickers, The Flame Dies
The Innocent Child Softly Sighs
Knowing No Shadows In Life's Light
Free From The Darkness Of Human Plight
Delicate In Thought Like Threads Of Silk
Weaved And Adorned With Gaia's Milk
Purity Of Spirit Is What Was Meant To Be
And Such A Child Shall Live For Eternity
...I wish you could see
the beauty of what I can see,
your young boy, now the man
you wished for him to be.
Let me engrave my memories
of the past 8 years onto your tombstone;
--sometimes, I sit and wonder why
can't death and life have a telephone
so I can call in and tell you about my day
And ask, 'How's my mothers's hero?'
By the way
I got through my GCSEs with results
non lower than a C.
---i hope you reply that you're proud of me.
Because right here and now, I wish you
could see the beauty of what I saw and see;
your young boy is now the man
you dreamt he'll be.
Mirror Ensemble (Part 2 of 7) by Nachtmystique, literature
Literature
Mirror Ensemble (Part 2 of 7)
Suspended in some dark corner of this shell,
Between multiple mirrors that blind my reason,
I, their creator, am the focal point.
Every mirror shines in its proud stance,
Silent monuments in a pensive world,
The degrees of their differences incredibly variant,
Carefully aligned to direct my mind's light.
Thoughts bounce off their radiant surfaces,
Reflections are thrown into indefinite space,
Inanimate forms that grow sentient on inception,
Each a replica of my psyche,
Born to restore some sense of purpose,
A longing to see simple answers again,
I weakly place my trust on these brothers,
Demagogues that adopt various ideologies,
Mirror Ensemble (Part 1 of 7) by Nachtmystique, literature
Literature
Mirror Ensemble (Part 1 of 7)
I am the atom of my mind,
The axiom of the universe within,
And hence the universe without.
I direct the light outside inwards,
Thought molecules enter the arena of my mind,
The tiny units collide in this medium,
I watch as collateral debris combine to form ideology,
Smaller pieces disappear as dogma,
A vibrant colloid of thought and thesis is my center,
My psyche sustained by these ideology compounds,
Little cogs to move a perfect clockwork,
New principles attached to my external acts,
My world recycled by my mind,
Beautiful patterns woven by clear process,
A simple system thus devoid of any anomaly.
But now, deviant forces e
"I hate hospitals."
"Why's that?"
"They're always trying to hide."
"What do you mean by 'hide'?"
"You smell that?"
"Yea. Smells clean."
"I hate that smell."
"Why?"
"It's too clean. It's like they're trying to hide the fact that people die here."
"Well that's morbid..."
"It's the truth."
"Would you rather it smell like germs and corpses?"
"No. But that's not the point."
"What is your point?"
"It's all just too... pleasant."
"Well yea. Hospitals are meant to help people. They're supposed to be pleasant."
"...You've never had a love one die, have you?"
"...No."
"No one should have to sit and watch the world spin on as if the pe
I rip pages
out of poetry books,
the titles of
Shakespeare
and Plath
and Dickinson
littering the floor
like trash,
and I wonder
if we don't all
wind up stepping stones
in the end.
That depends on who declined it as I'm not always the one rejecting people's work if I don't think it meets the Group's criteria. If you don't mind, what piece was it (line me) and let me take a look. Thereon I'll make the decision since you ask.
I have created an Art Feature, "Poetry+Art: Early April Poetry" [link] that may be of interest to your members (one of the poems is from your group). Thanks!