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AstrologicalI have lost myself to
Venus & Mars,
tangled in their mismatched limbs.

Just dream dust & shattered prayers
begging for a new set of skin
(she can't remember where she orbits).

Pluck these fractured wings;
the Sun & Moon no longer ache
to see me fly in their luster.
lies, she wrotei. just a mimicry, really;
uncompromisingly
desperate to shine.

ii. counterfeit & clockwise,
tasting words on her
unworthy tongue.

iii. with a dysfunctional mind
& apocryphal dictionary,
she cannot clone it all.

iv. "say anything," the pen
whispers as she trembles
among ink-scented fraudulence.

v. but she just laughs & plays the part,
forgetting what the pages told her:
"truth is stranger than fiction."
The Pen, The SwordJust lovely
I was happy to fall asleep
in the welcoming warmth of your words and
you were unaware that you held me
so close, and so carefully
from the moment before I heard you speak
to the taste of every sentence you spoke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been seeking all along
Just barely
I was loathe to fall so deep
in the sharpened edges of your words and
you were too aware that you had me
so close, and so carelessly
from the first second I heard you break
to the taste of every sentence you broke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been avoiding all along
Death of the PoetDear poetry,
This is your challenge,
my eternal chore,
to restate the truth
like never before-
but I’m imperfect
at my very core
and hypocrisy
is what I abhor
so you may expect
my work to be poor
enough for me to
be crushed into gore
with failed attempts
to take wing and soar
when all I wanted
was something much more
than emptiness and
inherited war
and pointless details
of imagined lore
which most of us tend
to simply ignore
at the piercing sound
of a lion’s roar
or the convenience
of a nearby store…
what am I truly
writing these words for? 
Let’s merely pretend
that this isn’t me
but the voice of God
or L. Ron Hubbard
or whoever you
wish for it to be
since facts remain facts
no matter the source,
no matter the cause,
since the trustworthy
are also humans
prone to failure;
so prone to a fault
that we hold dearly-
the sum of our faith
measured in dollars-
rewarded by credit
and paper money…
for some odd reason
I find this funny!
So I conclude
False EternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days, 
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.
Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!
Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for the moon
then sought the horizon, again and again warned my father that doom
would befall him if he didn't seek a better way to live and be 
I wasn't willing to follow the dark and deadly rules,
trying to bring some light into the lives of these fools.
Guilds of anti-gods were formed, wars rose higher, nothing to atone!
They all represen
ArrheniusThe birds are
keeping to themselves
this evening
as the earth shifts
slightly-
ever so calmly
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have
to move).

Here and there, I
witness these
beautiful strangers
with perfect bodies
and long hair
walking down the road
in tightly knitted packs.
They are animals
like we are animals-
like we are
animals without
claws and fur,
with scratches on our
skin that yields to
fragile and
familiar hands.

The winds respond
as quiet birds rush
from telephone wires
in panic and
in beauty; she
tries to brush the hair
dancing circles in her eyes
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have to move).
False ProphetsPoems and love songs breed dead dreams,
strangled by weeds, face down in the ground
with no roses to mourn them.

Singers are poets that croon
(if you happen to lose your little heart to their tune)
and poets are false prophets -
true love will last forever
if they care to write it,
but not if you swallow the lines...

yet, they always do.

We all have a place
set for us in the shade
in our own private garden of weeds.
False eternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant of the fact that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.

Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!

Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for
Psychotic ramblingsI, in the eternal void rest,
Am the unwanted thirteenth guest,
Insane, deranged and psychotic,
There are people who even call me sick.

Isn't it joyful and greedy to demand
A sacrifice of strangulation at the reach of the hand?
Cure the poisoned in a prison built of mental sand.

Murder is the solution brought by the resolution.
Is this the final, one and only conclusion?
Better think again, there will be no retribution.

Death is not the liberation, just the beginning.
Is there eternal peace? The solution is sinning.
Unacceptable lies become the truth, the chaos keeps spinning.
VoicesDo you hear the moan of morning rhymes
By the people in their endless time
As the morning dew breaks the day
Back to where the city-lights once laid

The lamp-posts are filled with black starlight
As the children run in their flight
With cries of sorrow, cries of pain
The old houses creaking with disdain

Acidic puddles of blood-wet tears
Remain on the street through all these years
As the cracks have hid the crumbled dust
Within these roads of bone and rust

The melody of the birds is lost
To the screeches and screaming loss
There are people cowering in the dark
Murmuring, whispering their tortured remarks

Flames ignite the world in fire
WakefulI remain awake with dreams on my mind
and stories that wait to be knit into books.
To never find comfort until my pillows are 
stuffed with thoughts instead of feathers
To never let go until I made sure that
the moon smiled back at me
Until the trees, the grass, and every night creature
has whispered good night...
And yet I'm still as wakeful as an owl
afraid that sleep would somehow
grab my neck and drag me to my grave.
Shared HappinessI like it better when you're happy.
The world feels like a safe place -
A good place to be.

Stay happy, even in the face
of great adversity
I know these last few years have been...

Well, difficult, to say the least.
But as long as your heart shines
I can hear it...

That devilish smile on your lips
the one no amount of miles
or hardships can erase

Remember, I'm always watching
With the eyes of my heart
I see you clearly

And, as long as you are happy
No matter where this life leads me
Then I am happy too.
Watercolor PainWhen you smile,
I turn colorblind.

It turns into a somersault
whenever I gain contact
with your skin,
bare back touching
bare back.

But I'm not hungry
for bedposts.

I just want to
savor each moment your arms
lock into mine,
the romanticism of
the moons in my eyes
and the skies in your words.

There's smoke
behind all those hues
of hazel and your fingers
are porcelain,
but I still love you.
bad nightmy mistakes are on my head,
and the cigarettes taste like metal;
on the street curb of a suburban block,
the lights jaundiced and flickering
like drunken fireflies, your reflection
that emanates from me covers every face.
HumanDear Hypocrite,

 What do you do?
Throwing insults when you're insulted.

Dear Coward,

 Where went you?
To your "peaceful" sanctuary you have bolted.

Dear Liar,

 What say you?
Your poison corrupts innocent ears.

Dear Human,

 What are you?
A sinner trapped in endless tears.

 
Browse More Like This

More from ~dreamingshadow18

Searching For The OasisEvery footstep is an accomplishment
Reaching the door is an achievement
I walk silently
Pack resting on my hip comfortably
Daydreaming as I sit in that train
In heat-provoked Somnambulism
Headphones are a comfort
Because I need the melodies
Helping my journey through that urban desert
Arriving a block from my destination
Cheerful light burning the nape of my neck
Almost mistaking my goal for a mirage
I'm finished with searching for the Oasis
Braving the Sun
Overcoming the Summer

©A. DeMario 2012

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A Face in the Fire

:icondreamingshadow18:

Fury burning hot and suffocating
Anger red and raw
Resentment a toxin fatal and nauseating
Hatred a gnarled grasping claw

My rage festers withing a decaying shell
As I indifferently choose to reign it in
That same irritation that I know so well
May buy me a one stop trip into Hell

There's a face in the fire that's calling out to me
Beckoning with talons so tauntingly sweet
Trying to shape my mind into what it desires it to be
Looking forward to the day that I'd admit my defeat

Temperance pulls me into a comforting embrace
Forgiveness pulls me out of the smoke
Hope smiles with a shining face
Peace flows beside it wearing a silver cloak

Nurturing optimism with a gentle hand
Piecing it together without pause
With full understanding flowing like sand
Allowing me to avoid wrath's yawning jaws

There's a face in the fire that's calling out to me
Beckoning with talons so tauntingly sweet
Trying to shape my mind into what it desires it to be
Looking forward to the day that I'd admit my defeat

©A. DeMario 2012

28

3 7 1
:icondreamingshadow18:

A Face in the Fireby ~dreamingshadow18

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A poem about anger.
©2012-2013 ~dreamingshadow18
Category: Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

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Submitted on
March 29, 2012
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:iconlov2catnap:
~lov2catnap Oct 29, 2012
Great to know that rhyming is not forgotten
Reply
:iconpaladineclipse:
Mood: Joy ~PaladinEclipse Apr 5, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Anyone who has ever felt anger has felt something to this degree (no pun intended). You have a way with words, especially since you can craft them into awesomeness like this. :3
Reply
:icondreamingshadow18:
Mood: Joy ~dreamingshadow18 Apr 5, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Awww, thanks. This is one of my few rhyming pieces.
Reply
:iconpaladineclipse:
Mood: Joy ~PaladinEclipse Apr 5, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Was this more difficult because it was rhyming?

And you're welcome! :D
Reply
:icondreamingshadow18:
Mood: Humor ~dreamingshadow18 Apr 5, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Not so much. When you have a freakish ability to retain info like me, you don't really give it much thought lol.........Well I did have to use a rhyming dictionary a little.
Reply
:iconpaladineclipse:
Mood: Joy ~PaladinEclipse Apr 5, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Lol, no modesty here, huh? ;p And alrighty, curiosity piqued my interest. But still, great job! :D
Reply
:iconcdmb:
~cdmb Mar 31, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Chills I've got chills like literal goosepimples from reading this Ooo I can feel it... I love your wording it makes it sound so tempting to just give in to the will of your anger. *shivers* I think you found your miss man I honestly think you did.
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