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Literature Text
When the sun scorched the wax out of the wings,
and blinded him with unfeeling light,
did a grin glimmer across his lips?
There must have only been a few seconds
before the fall pulled him towards crystal waters
and the terror sunk into his skin.
But in those moments, he must have smiled
at the death gliding besides him.
Because whilst it was the flight
that carried him to his last reach,
at least he touched the sky.
The feathers burst into flame,
and he left us, glowing.
and blinded him with unfeeling light,
did a grin glimmer across his lips?
There must have only been a few seconds
before the fall pulled him towards crystal waters
and the terror sunk into his skin.
But in those moments, he must have smiled
at the death gliding besides him.
Because whilst it was the flight
that carried him to his last reach,
at least he touched the sky.
The feathers burst into flame,
and he left us, glowing.
Literature
I have my own angel
I have my own angel
Who is a part of me and apart from me
I have my own angel
Who follows me, falls in step with me
I have my own angel
Black, opaque, not at all fake
A marionette
My sillouette
Literature
The human condition of wanting to be everything
I feel as though I am exhausting
The excess skin around
My eyes
They
h
a
n
g
in loose shadows
Across my cheekbones like
A wreath.
And whilst I find myself
unable
To draw open the blinds
Because the light
is too bright
And I really can’t handle
The pane of the sky
With its obnoxious
Blue
glaring at me
With such a joyful expression
I know that lately
I am burning myself out
That I consume one too many
Cans of soda and energy drinks
At 2.45 AM
When the rest of the world
Is static in a hushed
Comatose state
Whilst I frantically try
To achieve something
Because being
Average
Ordinary
Mundane
Is too
Literature
Mona Lisa smiling
Let’s talk about wanting to fall apart;
Let’s talk about over-riding the one instinct
we all have in common,
survival.
Let’s talk about not wanting to get out of bed
for a day,
two days,
a week.
Let’s talk about timing the whole day to have
the least amount of social contact.
Let’s talk about faking smiles more than not,
about inwardly grimacing every time someone asks
“you seem quiet today, what’s wrong?”
because how can you explain that for some reason
this whole spinning aimlessly around the sun thing has
gotten tedious and the only spinning you seem to
be doing is out of control.
(but the
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On Broadway RoadThere's a naked woman on Broadway Road
Standing, hunched, over the curb
Lightheaded on the stench of gasoline
Baring it all from head to toe
In the spotlight of the city, amidst waves of noise
Her hands struggle to hide the pouch of left-over baby fat
Still clinging to her waist by the umbilical cord
The people gawk and stare her way
Their eyes crawl up and down her skin
and hug the hips, somewhere between curvy and big-boned,
spotting the blemishes, dimples of cellulite;
But no seems to see the tattoos of blood and ink
Stamped across her back like scars
Barely legible through the fog:
“Lost Child; Return to Owner”
Her eyes are brown and facing down
And wrinkles haves started to take hold of the face
That used to hold Aphrodite's envy.
The summer sun scalds the sidewalk she skulks on
And passerby tiptoe around the elephant in the avenue
Watching her wave a pen wildly through the air,
Invisible words that mean nothing to no one, speaking the truth
Behind her, the glitz and g
Red Lips, Blue LipsCrimson lips of sultry nights
Lush and smooth and kissable
Seductress tools to tease and temper
Caressing, irresistible
Blue and purple lips, like death
Your eyes are closing off the day
Grim claws are closing on your throat
Until you feel life slip away
Pink and pretty lips, so young
Fresh and elastic with honeyed youth
Lips not afraid, yet, of this world
With no fear to speak the truth
Busted lips of hopeless nights
And screams of feeling weak and small
Terror of being hurt again
When he towers over you, so tall
Black lips painted with the times
A metal ring pierced on the lower
Misunderstood, not yet a woman
Make-up caking, until you're older
Smoking lips of green cigars
Sitting on the street all night
A lighter running out of gas
Asking strangers for a light
Bitten lips, excitement flowing
Trying hard to get a grip
But that gets impossible to do
When face to face with Crimson lips
Death to the Poet"Death to the Oracles, Gypsies of Light
Who see through blindness of man and his infinite night
Through the lies of the Fates and their wriggling tales
And hear oncoming days through time's shrieks and wails
Death to the Sorcerers, Gypsies of Force
Who weave fire from breath and sing winds off their course
Who lift Earth from it's patterns and craft boisterous rain
And trap stars in their palms, and suck suns in their veins
Death to the Mothers, the Gypsies of Life
Child's Deus Ex Machina, the hunting man's wife
The bearer of Futures, the giver of Souls
Who find shadows of crisis and swallow them whole
Death to the monsters shrieking in the mind
Of the man with whom tragedy and God are entwined,
Manipulating old words to invigorate youth
Death to the Poet, The Gypsy of Truth"
The Mud-Eyed GypsyI am the Mud-Eyed Gypsy Girl
and I have escaped the seduction of wolves
They snarled and gnawed at my ankles
I found the tuxedo-masked stranger
His eyes full of stars
Who I implored to save me
But alas
I saved myself
As the cosmos guided me into the lips
Of precariously patient Venus Flytraps
I spat in Destiny's eye
And climbed out of acidic lies
Raven wings streaming,dreaming behind me
Ugly and Black
The gutter and the witch's moon called to me
And the starry eyes behind the mask tempted
But I tamed him like I tamed my own darkness
The howling ghouls can't hurt me now.
My blood-black night is VICTORIOUS.
© 2014 - 2024 Emerald-Alexandria
Comments3
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:iconsaysplz; Yes, He Did!Fly On Yer Wings ... Like A (B)Eagle
Fly ... Touch The Sun!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3I88w…