[x]

The Day After the FuneralHer Husky arises every few minutes,
in order to expose different parts of its mottled coat
to the flickering fire,
the dog turns in a lazy stop-start orbit
of fur and slurry-jawed yawns.

Beside the same dying flames,
a leather-bound Bible rests
on my Grandmothers lap,

an hour or so ago
the old rocking chair creak
fell silent,

now her head of silver hair
slouches to a side,
bifocals searching for escape
from the tip of her wrinkled nose,
the slow purr of her outward breath
makes a comforting sign
of late-evening life.

I should really venture out
to the dark dewy fields,
out to the open night stars,
to gather mo

the truth is thisin my last life,
I was a beggar girl;
weak, cold, and starving.
I thought I was missing something.
I thought I'd found a knight to save me;
that you'd be everything I needed to make me whole.
the truth is,
you were never the one doing the saving.
in my new life,
I am a queen;
strong, brave, and shining.
and no mere knight will do for me now.
now, I wait for my prince, my king, my equal.
the truth is,
I don't need to find my other half;
I'm not broken.

little white lies tissue paper skin and barbed wire spines
"i haven't been sleeping well."
butterfly wing smiles and porcelain bones
"the medicine will help."
sparrow hearts and rose petal hair
"don't worry."
undersea eyes and sailboat stomachs
"these things pass in time."

Love in the kitchenthe knife
spooning in the drawer
with the fork

dfc 12-6: monotetrai thought i'd write a tongue twister:
one that doles out oral blisters,
has folks begging 'mercy, mister!'...
i just missed 'er, i just missed 'er.

so...that leaves me writing aimless,
monologuing blithe and shameless.
should i be accused of sameness
am i blameless? am i blameless?

Real QuietThe only mystery is the echo
when a person leaves. No organ ever
detected it, the clang of one vacuum
striking another. Even when I unthought
it: the first silence, repeating like
a ghost. The end came

exactly as its beginning, discreet
and with gentle dignity (a mask of voicelessness). My
restlessness was spent on a hum
of radio, bird rush, voices. All day sounds
which were only silence. This
transmutation of energies, a cycle, a thought
that nothing has an ending: this is what
I heard. Two

weeks now and each
flashing eyed dream is shorter, at least

in my memory.

Ocean EyesYour skin would be lace
Between my fingertips,
Tangling with streams
Of golden sunlight that
Button you up,
Leaving intricate patterns
That tell your secrets
With every thread.

You'd breathe like a mermaid,
The scent of the sea echoing
In our veins,
Like teenage hearts
Pumped full of lust.
Too fast.
Like heels on marble floors,
But you're so
Much closer
Than that.

You're blood in my lungs
And air in my heart,
But I live only
Off the raindrops
That fall from
Your soft, sea-stone eyes
When a smile curves your lips.

The edges
Gathering me,
Unraveling me.

(I carve you in the sand,
But ocean tears
Wash you away.)

.h u s h e d

this is the sound
of angels suffocating

it is summer
and we laugh at
the tender-sweet
suicides
with guns
to their lover's heads

the stars are bleeding
across the sky
.you make
wishes

&
liars who stop
dreaming
won't
forgive themselves

you are consummate
as you slip in
choke on your own tongue
murmur sweet-nothings
it doesn't mean
as much as you think

because your lover-boy
is a liar-boy

these
arsenic kisses
will poison; you
eventually.

Dandelion's Lamentthe warm spring wind
gives me life
no one desires to defend;

they call me Weed,
stomping me down
to the level of Crabgrass
and Poison Oak,

although I harm none
with my meager
existence.

I can grant your wishes
as your cold breath
sends shivers down my
stem; I can

thrive on the dream-fields
of children, who still
call me Flower.

Copperwater: with your face bent to a book. Your fingers have shingled around it, forming a steeple. Sometimes you find we turn into copperwater when we are not looking for it, our bones shiver down to water and russet, and a clamour of ripples travel on ourselves: are you unruffled underneath? Already, we are clumsy, for again, the ripples rush faraway to another set of bones, something rasps, and your bones creak in response, rattling with a sad firm sound. Our eyes are made of the deepest dreams that cause our eyelashes to sweep down. You find, you fear that there is a river in books, with sirens; there is a river goddess who shares her name with the

To Us- Synesthesiai.

every sound
excites a burst
of color; an
exploding
firework,
dancing and
twirling.

ii.

your voice
tastes of mangoes;
sticky
and sweet,
caressing my senses.
your flavor is
personal.

iii.

the letters
all become a
different personality.
"T" is crabby
and "I" worries.
"J" is strong
and mighty.

iv.

closer and
farther away;
each number becomes
its own plane
and point
in space;
perfect details.

v.

all the numbers
form lines
becoming an army
of curvy rows,
swirling round
and round.
a perfect pattern.

vi.

letters take
on colors,
each and every one
a different hue,
a different shade,
forming rainbo

WhisperEyes solemn as pinewood
The touch of your hand
The river's at half-tide
They don't understand
The night is still falling
Don't know you like me
When sun breaks the morning
By sunlight you'll see
We whispered 'mongst spring-blooms
A promise to keep
When we were both yearlings
The valley is steep
My hands through your mane now
As sure as the day
Fly free as the meadows
Where grass finches play
Our eyes are still keen and
Our hearts don't know grey
With these limbs like greenlings
I'll take you away.

Forest FireWe're proper lovers with miles in-between
Like the devil floating down the river valley
That baptizes in its water
I am not where I would like to be

Like a pagan dance, you tend to inspire
The flirt in your lips, the kiss in your smile
You've got the earth eyes and I've got the sky
This passion: a forest, the anxiety: a fire

bits of bonelet it be known:

i loved you most when you were messy,
unkempt--your fingers like a spotted
cow's hide with ink and peppered with
paper cuts; a faded old t-shirt and your
hair on end, holey jeans loose on your
hips. your flaws were your beauty, when
i pressed my cheek to your chest, i took
in the sweet, spicy scent of you and knew
if you smelled like clean and simple soap,
it wouldn't be the same.

you were wild with wanderlust, it hung in
the air around you like a mist of rain and
it soaked you through, ate you up, it
seeped beneath your skin to take root in
your heart.

i was as captivated by you as you were
by the ocean,

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Submitted: May 20, 2012
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A Cliche

by $namenotrequired, May 20, 2012, 7:19:20 PM
Literature / Poetry / Romantic / General / Traditional Fixed Forms

I wish I could sing you a love song
about roses and stars and the rain
but I couldn't sing like the blackbird in spring
so I think I will simply refrain.

I wish I could tell you a story
about beauty and trust and my heart
but all I could say's what they say every day
So I don't even know where to start.

I wish I could write you a poem
'bout the birds and the bees and my bed
but all I would write's being said every night
So I wrote you a cliche instead.

A Clicheby $namenotrequired

Literature / Poetry / Romantic / General / Traditional Fixed Forms

Today is two years ago since I first spoke to `Gwendolyn12

She loves my poetry (she was really happy with this one as well

) but ironically, since I met her I don't write as much, also because I'm happier.

I appreciate critique!

The third line bothers me in particular.. suggestions for the line or rhyme word are welcome.

Thanks a lot to =DailyLitDeviations for the DLD feature

^namenotrequired
Under Creative Commons Licence

Also see;

Our OWN cliche Forget the expensive chocolates and champagne,
And the dozen half wilted red roses.
As long as I can somehow have you forever,
Cheap whiskey and strings of daisy chains
Will be more than enough for me.

Forget the 'atmospherically lit' fancy restaurant ,
With its long and unpronounceable menu.
Just a simple moment shared with you
Fish and chips by candlelight (because the power is out)
Is perhaps silly, but in my eyes just as romantic.

Forget the gold and diamond encrusted monstrosities,
Dismiss talk of carats and such gaudiness.
Expensive won't make me love you somehow more,
Than if you chose to - on bended knee, propose;

Broken Love Sonnet Why do you never fail to break my heart?
I lived for you and gave you all my soul
Now since the end I don't know where to start
To fix myself and once more make me whole

You watched me cry and made me dry my tears
With sheets filled with memories of the past
I followed you beyond my greatest fears
For just a moment's high that did not last

For all the pain in my life I could list
The hardest was your silent blow to me
You ignored me like I did not exist
But from chains of guilt God has set me free

Once I followed you and called you my love
But now I follow hope that's from above

Cliche You say my love is cliché
But hey, it's so true
For you, I'd give the world
And then some
For you, I'd give my heart
And then some
For you, I'd give my life
Until it's all gone

But hey
You say my love is cliché
And I would venture to say
I agree
Because you see
What's wrong with true devotion?
It sends my soul into an explosion
Mind in motion
You are my potion

I would even venture to say
I love you more then roses
I care for you more then the beautiful blue jay
Like lark song littering the daylight
I miss you when you cannot stay
As the stone cold stern of the boat is leaving the bay
Waves rocking it to sleep

Cliche "I'm happiest when I'm with you."
"You're beautiful inside and out."

Somehow when you say them,
They sounds less cliche and more
Beautiful.

...

I'm sorry, was that too cliche?

Critique by ~ArtFreakThea Dec 18, 2012, 3:20:22 AM

Other than this previous critique, I prefer not to talk about the rhymes and that kinda stuff. Quite the contrary, I think you should get away from the tendency to rhyme for the sake of the rhyme... (for example your second stanza, I think, seems a little like to you didn't focus as much on the contents as on the form)

Apart from that I really like the style, the message and the wink within. You could have probably even extended it a little! I think the one real little shortcoming of that poem is, it comes out... a little short

What do you think?

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Critique by ~julian0123 May 21, 2012, 12:55:31 PM

For the record, this is the first critique I write to a poem.
It's very good; the man try to conquer the girl with precious thing but with nothing more than common and everyday things.
The rhyme is ok; but song and spring... not so much (I suggest you use the word among). Rain and refrain was unexpected; bed and instead fits perfectly.
The visual images are good, and the love in the poem is touching; its a bit short, but most of poems are this long these days.
I congratulate you for a very well worked poem. And the cliche it's a bit funny.