Mesmerized by ocean’s rattle,I curl the thorns of the lilyinto the sway of red craters,cracked fossils; the possibilitythat unearths into a singlebloodline, staved in winter’s digits;I’ve cried for shadows offather’s uproots, whilsthe remembers Mother Nature’sfare. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved. Written for the dVerse prompt: Scribble us a poem of possibility using just 44 words, including some … Continue reading Ocean rattle.
with the last flower, traveled and scrawled from our mind—across the sun. the moon cracks and reddens as death comes to stardust. ebony époque hikes to the yellow tourniquets; and in-utero shells, plasma glass, her eyes are mine; maniac moon devours the limb to the stars clotted in bones/rocks. I dream between the blood from … Continue reading last flower.
First off, let's start with a message from the Poet of Steel regarding his blog, and then we'll dive into what's goin' on with this blog: Hey, everyone! I've created a short story blog, where YOU choose the answers, and you can view it here: https://theinteractivestoryblog.blogspot.com/2020/11/curse-part-one.html?m=1Please note that this is just a reminder to long-time … Continue reading 2nd Year Blog Anniversary, Discord – And More
My mind is a Storm, Swirling emotions, Weakening loyalty, And distancing me. I find myself far From my closest friends, Except with you. You are the Eye, The calm in my Storm, While my world slowly Crumbles around me.
I looked so far, searching, kept on going far and wide With my eyes closed, bumping into you and opening them wide A fresh burst of love and hope seeps deep into my soul And I stare, for I dare, look directly at beauty before regaining control You are my pride Without you I can't … Continue reading Opened My Eyes (By PoetOfSteel)
isolate the modernities carnations touch the wind, mocking them, like a cigarette in the abandoned sunlight, the entropy, monstering god-like shores fragmenting ends of the mind, traversing the watery rock for the sea, the mouth left behind from the cave, teeming with blood; the mountain defines the reflection in your eyes, where have you been? … Continue reading Modernities.
umbilicus / of this shore / and shattered fingers like clamshells reddened to the body of death / to veteran-ed paralysis / / of beauty / the few fingers of mist / and seas are in pot-lids of darkness; my hands / laboring / are ants to the / father sea / and the stone … Continue reading epicedium to the sea
death is a red coquetteon your father’s fossil armits abyss forgotten and ungrievedinto cosseted veins of poetry,but words mean nothing to you; yellow dreams wept in her darkness,and caitiff of mirrored dust, and bone consumedmoon-wept death in the waves andfingertips of black lilliesnulling marrows in epicediumof the bear’s wintered hibernationthe seasons that sail the sea-skullsof … Continue reading I am a ghost to you.
Content Warning/Trigger Warning: This poem is centered around death, particularly the death of a child. summer, pilgrimage of the ewe; the blood sun breaks upon death— is the symmetry of the flower where an ocean throws the moon’s noose, leaving to the knot of a darker azure? dream, and you might too leave in the … Continue reading (!) This Night.
I sit here at the grave, Where my world has died. I sit here in silence, As the world passes me by. I it here stone cold, Afraid of being alone. I sit here at the grave, Where my love forever rests.