this is guaranteed
there will be blood
when the monster breathes
it will drip and fall and splash
and dreams may come true
but nightmares follow
in the shadows
lurking behind every happy thought
there is that one filled with terror and oblivion
you don't know what to expect
or when to expected
you just know there will be blood
there will be a life taken
so lurk not in the shadows
steal to the light
but even then death might catch up to you
and only then can you even try
to put up a fight.
welcome to the 365 project of a poet. well, its pretty simple: this will be a blog of poetry- one post a day for an entire year. so, here it goes.
About Me
- [ME]GAN
- "A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures." The Picture of Dorian Gray
Showing posts with label dark. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dark. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
day sixty-six: doubting heart.
mix the feelings
like a snowy slush
flood them over the dam
churn them up
like an upset stomach
trying to escape
shake me up
my hands are shaking
from the old confusion i've come to know
change the feelings
toward one or the other
and feel the epic guilt
fix the broken
things that are deep
buried beneath the oceans
dive down deep
and dig them
dig up the doubts i keep
take them ashore
and hide them away
don't let me see where they are
for if i notice
where the sand has been disturbed
i'll dig till death for my doubting heart.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
day sixty-four: these are tears.
tears
so many of them
like an meteor shower
on a hot summer night
tears streak across my sky
and leave blazing trails of white,
clean, welcome, whiteness,
like a too hot flame
searing tears of stress
being expelled
sorrowful tears of hurt
being let go
silent tears of hatred
forcing themselves out
so many tears
slowly falling down
thank you, gravity.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
day sixty-three: dancing in the dark.
there was a sky
filled with emptiness
and empty of the moon
so the sun filled it up
to the brim
(the emptiness, that is)
with warm honey and love
and there was a sky
filled with sunny love
and empty of the moon
so the sun left
because the sky was not happy
with the sticky sweet honey
and the love that did not mean much
and there was nothing left
but empty
so the moon came
with his smooth light
and livened up the sky
but not with something sticky sweet
with something smooth and cool
something like the feeling
of dancing in the dark.
Labels:
dark,
empty,
moon,
night,
random slip poetry,
sun,
this makes no sense
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