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the same pea"the same pea"

the words, ehmmm...the words, where are the words?
(yeah, yeah, the words. don't tell her this. I really like her, after all, we are the same pea in this pod, but she worries about 'stuff' at the most inopportune moments, like when we should be sleeping)

where are the words which flowed from me this morning?
(she probably wrote an intense 'comment' and used them up, but she doesn't believe that's possible)

they were here last night, I woke up at 6 a.m. and they were here.
(one hour of sleep last night, it was pretty much downhill from there, bet she won't tell you)

I want them bAAAAAck!
(yikes, I hate it when she scream
Pitter PatterPitter-Patter
--by kabookie

Pitter-Patter.
Pitter-Patter.
Can you hear,
the heartbeat.
Even through these sheets?
Phantom lullabies,
seeping from the soul eye,
and onto canvas skin.
Watch!
The first movement begins.

A tiny star twinkles in the distance.
(She nears, She nears)
Racing faster.
Burning in the atmosphere.
(She nears, She nears)
Upon my worlds horizon,
a blazing siren.
(She nears, She nears)

(Perhaps the world will crack
before she reaches the surface)

A realization.

Love in its tenderness,
expresses itself,
with oh, so much, cleverness.

A veil of skin,
seals me within,
so that I may never,
(truely)
Whispers Upon TruthDown on earth's over crowded surface
many rushing waters cut into an empty sea
The stars are beholding the sky's intensity
and the winds are carrying its precision
The limbs among the trees grab the wind's
whispers and then gently lets them go
The whispers take with them the gentleness
and gives it to others who are willing to grasp
And from all this becomes truth and security
The stars are not the sky's delicious decorations
Look to them with deep intensity
Handle their books with care
If the rushing waters that cut into
the empty sea overflow,
then is it not true that the sea
will also become larger
regardless what it covers
The Red Rose Tree
We taped it back on the red rose tree
(a timeline)
by jsenn

Yesterday or maybe it was in 1941
right before Pearl Harbor was bombed
tears mixed with laughter, anger within
peace, water from the sea poured over me
A snow ball was thrown. Daddy and me
riding the snowsled, downhill with glee.

I picked a rose. We taped it back
on the red rose tree.

The sound of gravel road sparkled
blinding in the sun, wind and sand
and angel wings grew fireflys at
day's done. Big city lights, in neon
thrilled my sight. I read the sisters.
Metallic skates flew sparks on concrete.
Walking. Large black cars. City streets.
Eyes fixed on the gr
Scattered thoughts
"Scattered thoughts"
-Faint tick-
I watch you breathing
slowly in and out
you always looked good sleeping
your lips curled in a little pout.

-Faint tick-
My side grows numb
from watching you forever and a day
I turn and now face my dresser
with the clock that ticks without delay.

-Tick, tick-
This clock is my enemy
counting my hours like a knife
watching the hands through the iridescent glow
as circles are played on my life.

-Tick, tick-
Less time to mess up
all my thoughts seem scattered
fewer seconds to cry
but did it ever matter?

-Tick, tick-
Each movement slices my soul
every click makes me twitch
never ending, nev
The Midnight Snack                               The Midnight Snack

Smoke wafting up

         The burning cigarette

                            so much like the

passing of time, slow, methodical

                   eerily beautiful

like fake granite, multi-colred cotton

                thoughts

    random thoughts

                                     religion, philosophy

focusing, the burning in the back of my throat

                the burning, taste of blood, the annoying voices

         pounding, piercing, somehow soothing

        and somehow unnoticed

like us

            sitting here alone, yet surrounded

            by people

 
The Last Unicorn
As shimmering light touches the ground
Reflected in the stars and moon, no sound
but quiet tiptoes and laughter fine
Like music it flows and weep moonshine

Try to look, maybe try to see
The elfin folk, under the Great Oak Tree
As a streaming breeze blows gently by
Hear tinkling chatter and the leaves' quiet sigh

Pixie skips, fluttering fairy wings and happy cheer
Wood sprites and river nymphs approach with no fear
'tis the full moon, and as magic settles through the night
A glimmer and twinkle of stars as dreams take flight

The fairy folk cheer as each wish of a child floats free
But even as they smile, they wait to see
The Last
Cloud
...

a cloud
is soft
with vapor whisper
i spat
at it
but it fell
right back
on my
face
i rub
my eye
cry
the cloud
washed
my tears
with its
own

...
cloud
nob 17 2001
SLN
Daily Deviation Whole Story
Trials And Tribulation Of Getting A Daily Deviation The Whole Story.

Screaming sinful words as I create my newest creation,
Deviations floating freely through out my head,
All of my work coming out in a state of damnation.
This submisson I'm working on tastes like rye bread.
Why won't my mind work, why won't it try?
Idiocy screaming and rearing it's ugly brow every which way I turn.
Die submission die.
Let me cram this submisson into a small round urn.
Daily Deviation?
No way, no how.
I'm working toward it though, it's laughing at me knowing I want it.
What are Daily Deviations?
The tao.
I keep trying and trying, pulling my hai
Pain by JSennPain
by jsenn

Long fronds
of the willow tree
brush slowly the ground where she lay
bound by the weeping agony
of pain circumventing joy.

Encompassed by the suffering
she sought comfort in imaginations mist
heartcore centered
love shadowing
she softly whispered for the kiss.

The hand of her pain released its grip
of intensity
embraced by love
and his soothing touch
gently, she is set free.

Joy Senn
12-2-2001
- StarDustNIGHT -
StarDustNIGHT

on wings of unseen glass birds
a taste of stardust forced upon their delicate brow
eyes tired of the journey to
forever and
gossamer crystal entrails
taut with overtasking
we drift slowly along this stream
in endless night
and the colours!
from somewhere far above
(below?)

the stars sing praises and
align with the planets in tribute to their Creator
as their reflections dance in the aether all around,
below, within
throughout we course towards the grey of dawn
or the alternative, if such a thing does not exist
and sing songs of quiet wonderment
searching

for a way back home

:// © 2001 J. Michael Renaud
tear by prcr
tear
____

crystalline drop of water
snuggling its own salt
fails to cling and
slides through the quivering cheek

all the pain it carries
snug between molecules of life
is slowly pulled by gravity and
slinks through the warm cheek

a stream of hope
rinsing the strain
meticulous little teardrop

carrying away sadness
a spring of relief where
loneliness entwines with suffering
Tearing Down In Elevensif i ever
wanted you to know this
id tell you
if i ever
felt that
the world was too small
id make her big
if ever i grew up
id drown
in these tears
of a thousand angry men
the voices of a million shouting children
buzzing in my head

calling out to me
they claw
faceless hands
begging me for help
and the smell is
manifesting here
dropping me ill
until i can no longer feel.

the clouds of smoke
that linger for miles
when all we care about
is the payroll
here is how we fall
in unison out of our skin;
calling out to the twin we never had
yelling out to our birth places
that we always forgot about
tearing down the sky;
Losing MyselfI had all but thrown away my faith in everything
drained my hope to the palest shade of white
wanted everything to end, yearning for peace again and again

i had given up

and then i saw my golden light
in the most angelic form of you
you are my faith in everything
and my hope I've sought so long
you became my saviour with your touch
the breath of life hidden inside your kiss
you are my everything in a world where everything i use to have
was as solid as soft mist

you are the pieces i need to make me whole again

Now i only yearn for the days
when i get to wake up to the safety of your arms
and the brush of your hair against my fa
The ChangeThe Change.
Tasting it's coming on a bitter tongue.
The vitality of summer has fallen to scattered hopes and dreams.
A myriad of color piled in judgment.
Waiting for trash day.
The season inhales me.
Decides me.
No longer a year of choices, but a day of acceptance.
Making peace I step forward and embrace my Fall.
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More from ~twilight-ashes

waiting to bloom again--angel wings
beat down,
and the skies
turn
over.

lost words
linger
in the ashes
of the
aftermath.

in the newly discovered
vastness of twilight,
shimmering across the fallen kingdom,
a shaken hand protrudes from the rubble
of a city once majestic;
a city of kings,
queens,
rooks,
and
pawns.

yet, light shines hope onto this hand;
scarred from the tragic
demise,
as this hand shall live once more,
along with the structure that holds it;
a statue of hope
that used to unite the people
of this fabled
land.

below the debris,
it lays dormant;
waiting to emerge
again.

in the meantime,
angel wings oversee,
as the skies
tides and magnetsin silence,
we were swept away
like
receding waves,
only
we did not return
to where our hearts
are.

our eye-magnets
repelled--

there is a barrier.

i wanted my heart to stop
and die.

i wanted to drop down
and die.

i wanted...
to erase your memories;
erase my past.

time passes again and again.
waiting and waiting...

this eternity is killing me.

or am i already dead?

then--
all of a sudden--
your hands--
all over me--

you cried your heart out.
i... held it for you.
we are all sorry.

and...
my heart climbed back up
to its perch.

you did not have to say anything.

and you did not.

i wonder-
if this could be
anoth
it is good to be aliveas i breathed
my last
breaths,
i dreamt of
what i had,
and all that could have
been.

i dreamt of
the times
when skies were bright,
i dreamt of
the times
when skies were
brighter.

as i viewed
my final
panorama,
i could see
dismal skies,
but my room was
illuminated- pale.

i could see
glistening faces,
squinted eyes,
and partially opened
mouths,
and i could also see
those same faces
smiling;
jovial,
during the times
we used to
share.

as i dreamed
my last
dreams,
i closed my eyes
to take it all in;
to cherish them again and
again
and
after that,
i did not have to
open
(my eyes)
again...

but i did,
an
breathless in Bethlehemwe lay our eyes,
and we see-
through the eyes
of this fabled land;

amidst the crowded streets
of peddlers and traders;
a myriad of fabrics
enshrouding mobile entities--

we simply pass them by...

but amidst the crowded streets,
the stars in the sky
guide our pupils-
drawing us closer
to their canvas;
almost purple,
almost black,
almost deep
dark,
blue--

we could never tell.

nevertheless,
amidst the crowded streets,
and beneath the plethora in the sky,

we remember
this day
of days.

this day... this night-
in the spirit of births and rebirths,

we were left

breathless--

in Bethlehem...
stuck in un-resolutionlast stop: broken house-
time to pick up
the pieces.

another stop: last resort
stay and sway-
minds go awry.

centrifugal refuge: hole down under;
hole way inside,
filling up with air.

last stop again:
last stop again
and again...

freeze--

wash, lather, rinse,
repeat,
lather,
rinse,
wash,
rinse,
,
,
,

hang out to dry
and wash
and dry

to head to the last stop
again...

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December 8, 2001
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[x]

plethora- out the window

:icontwilight-ashes:

a momentary glance/gaze
out the window,
and i am taken/transported

out (of my eyes),
in (to the sky),
over (the clouds),
under (the stars)

i fly/drift
to the core of

the stars-
the moon-
the milky way-
universes and galaxies-
everything converges
in my mind...

-tonight-

... i celebrate
nature,
my life,
and you

in a single glance/gaze
out the window,
i flew one/full circle
back to myself/earth

and i smiled.
:icontwilight-ashes:
very very experimental (for me anyway). yes, i'm sure you'd notice that this style i'm presenting in is pretty darn similar to someone else's (some people's?) *cough* [link] *ahem*. i just feel that this poem needs to be presented like this... i'm not gonna incorporate this style into *all* my poems from now on or anything like that... :P (Razz)

Daily Deviation

Given 2001-12-09
plethora- out the window by twilight-ashes takes the reader on an otherworldly trip and back. The author speaks of stars, galaxies the milky way in a keen style. Truly a wonderful work and must be recognized for it’s ability to move. Selected by `faithwalker. ( Featured by $devart )
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