Try the new ES roleplay site, new signup required.
Writingpoetry

[ Join Free! ]
(No Spam mail)

dotsdots
nav
  • RolePlay
  • Join Us
  • Writings
  • Shoutbox
  • Community
  • Digg Mashup
  • Mp3 Search
  • Online Education
  • My Youtube
  • Ear Training
  • Funny Pics
  • nav



    nav
  • Role Play
  • Piano Music
  • Free Videos
  • Web 2.0
  • nav



    << | >>
    poetry


    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    ...Created 2019-12-03 13:52:18

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    You tried to tell me
    but I didn’t believe you.

    How the night itself
    could bring on sound. Well,

    just over there, past the thin
    wagging tongues of sumac
    leaves, determined

    as they are to hang on,
    I closed my eyes

    and felt the last croaks of summer
    dipping below ground like the sun.

    ...Created 2019-12-03 13:52:08

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    Tonight above pine trees,
    the sky is two flush lips
    parting. The curves of cloud teeth

    casting a way into words.
    Tonight above pine, the sky
    is one giant constellation

    of all those things I ought
    not to have set a feast for
    in the corners of my mind.
    They loiter now

    in the shape of a mountain
    lion body. And I stand below
    them—their towering. Awareness
    dotting my mind like tiny bats

    rushing out to meet
    the dark
    arms of evening.

    ...Created 2019-12-03 13:36:54

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    ...Created 2019-11-07 05:07:19

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    There is this sound that can drown
    out anything. A primitive language

    lilting through the window. (I would
    rather not talk anymore. Maybe

    just listen) until the high mountain inside
    me becomes more like the ghost

    of morning. Possibility. There are things
    I can catch and things I can not.

    For example, that sound—a chorus
    of crickets and tree frogs humming

    contentment, weaving an evening
    where everything that lays flat

    can grow into a mountain. Anymore,
    this can’t be happening. I need the music

    of the unaware. The smooth notes
    that turn silence into what ought

    to be

                    the music of stars.

    ...Created 2019-11-07 05:06:16

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    There is this sound that can drown
    out anything. A primitive language

    lilting through the window. I would
    rather not talk anymore. Maybe

    just listen until the high mountain inside
    me becomes more like the ghost of morning:

    possibility. There are things I can catch
    and things I can not. For example, that

    sound—a chorus of crickets and tree frogs
    humming contentment, weaving an evening

    where everything that lays flat grows
    into a mountain. Anymore, this can’t be

    happening. I need the music
    of the unaware. The smooth

    notes that turn silence
    into what ought to be

                   the music of stars.

    ...Created 2019-11-07 05:00:01

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.


    Google
     


    poetry

    dotsLogindots

    User Name:

    Password:

    [ Quick Signup ]
    [ Lost Password ]


    January 10 07
    131,497 Poems
    Posted

    I have 14,000+ Subscribers on Youtube. See my Video Tutorials

    [ Angst Poetry ]
    [ Cutters ]
    [ Famous Poetry ]
    [ Poetry Scams ]



    FontSize:
    [ Smaller ] [ Bigger ]
     Poetry