topic by Mundane1
I have a hurricane in me,
a gentle wind lives within.
Stand firm, acerbic moon-tides
rumble to mighty force, swells
pitch and yaw, grumble and yawn.
Steadfast, I sail beyond horizons,
lucid mirages on endless seas.
Fear driven deep in my bowels,
raw intensity of pure, fragile hope.
I watch, watch a shadow, a mirror
image, dusk to dawn away but dare
never to whisper the words.
A twisted mirror cannot reflect
truth, locked in its timbre tock,
manumit my inner demons
to vast unknown. Intensity
wells, crimson flames a fiery
testament. Stain spreads indigo
and inside a tsunami riles, expels
scarlet resound, in my epiphany,
I dare the silence giving voice
to echo, we have come full circle.
I open the windows of my soul,
liquid laughter peals 'cross plains
to retreat beyond canyon walls,
this darkness within me.
Beneath a wide summer sky,
I breathe light, in shades of blue
my feet float, dance above cockle
shells on golden sands as the storm
leaves my shore, a twisted reflection,
Tangled Threads on the Backside of Lifes Tapestry
topic by Springspromise15
Here my father sliced a thread,
Another one my mother read,
Weaving a history of this day
A picture of everything, say,
Headlines announce a topic true
Websites say a topic through
All life is one glorious bundle
Making its way along a path. Trundle
But yes dear reader, there is another side
Not all is perfect and some things slide
Let me tell you of the back side
The slack side, of life's tapestry.
Every rug needs a constant grip
On life or if one stepped on it, strife
An undercurrent of fear and need awaits us all
Here or there. Insurance failed. In the hall
No I never knew her, And we have one glorious child
Somehow our slipping and sliding resulted in God being mild
There is an undertapestry I'm sure you've felt
Working up you backside. In your innards. Chastity melt.
The Grand Nile
topic by PoetcTryst
god knows origami
and folds time
we sleep away eternity
under suburban stars
as the serpent tunnels beneath
light and dark flow tandem
and flood fantastic
on the papyrus shores
leaving their creases
for us to read in the morning
like lines on the old man's face
the earths scars tell of good and evil
but only death unfolds the truth
as a young man i plied my mind into a boat
and now i wait to reach river's end