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    poetry


    --Elite Writer
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    Journal:
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual
      
    one thousand five hundred ninety nine


    ...Created 2010-03-21 18:33:09     [ View Past Journals ]

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    ||| Messages |||
      
    sundress weather & small
    children. still hear clop
    when boots kick sway, bounce,
    talk & the chatter of bones
    conversing with the breeze.
    only these enlightened wrists
    could form new migratory patterns,
    could fill a sparrow heart.
    the things found in tree branches
    are ancient, bravery gathered while
    everything sleeps and breathes the dawn
    in skimpy sunrises, stained with dreams of
    redheads, bicycles, easy raindrops mixed
    on open palms with wandering thoughts,
    thoughts of wandering. its dusk now, dawn now.

    magpies blossom behind eyes closed
    long enough to settle. its careless,
    as easily destroyed as sunrise. we hope to be
    aware of what a heart is worth; the push of breath
    and blood makes it clear. this is a long look ,
    no passing glance on streets
    whose ends have been known
    and bled upon. backward makes it clear,
    the feeling of pulses upon our fingertips.
    | Posted on 2010-04-21 14:14:13 | by milovelocity - [ Reply to This ] -
      
    only this rib caged, sparrow heart,
    these enlightened wrists, ancient paths
    for new migrations, would
    refuse to go unnoticed. wandering
    thoughts of becoming, together with
    easy raindrops, mixed on open palms,
    behind eyes closed long enough to
    discover everything breathed
    and bravery gathered.


    everything else just magpies alighting
    to the place where home used to be
    a nest drawn down in storm. today
    is warm again, or at least bright, though
    i hoped for darker skies. glint of tinsel
    in far off branch was always comforting,
    blowing under the blue blue of alien skies.
    now i have no beacon to guide me back, no anchor
    keeping me still. i dreamt of your wrists.
    that tender flesh, though you have such rough
    palms, i brushed clean of worry. i felt your pulse.
    i was so glad to find you actual.

    aware of what a heart is worth,
    amazed at how some settle, so carelessly.
    easily destroyed at sunrise, after
    dreams convinced and faded quick.
    this is a long look and no passing
    second glance on streets whose ends
    have been known and bled upon. I am not
    among them. I forget the names.
    they choose anyone who finds anything noticeable.
    they are still learning the song forward
    when backward makes it clear,
    what a heart is worth.
    | Posted on 2010-03-31 22:55:32 | by milovelocity - [ Reply to This ] -
      
    sundress weather & small
    children. still hear clop
    when boots kick sway, bounce,
    talk & the chatter of bones
    conversing with the breeze.
    so much stained & skimpy, lacking
    the things, still, to hollow
    birds' bones. damage & wondering;
    bicycles & redheads. there seemed
    no use to prepare.
    | Posted on 2010-03-24 16:19:21 | by etheror - [ Reply to This ] -
      
    | Posted on 2010-03-21 18:23:10 | by DestroyOhBoy - [ Reply to This ] -
      
    | Posted on 2010-03-21 18:22:59 | by DestroyOhBoy - [ Reply to This ] -
      
    | Posted on 2010-03-21 18:22:51 | by DestroyOhBoy - [ Reply to This ] -



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    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.

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