[Polterguise]

"Wash"

I wish I were light enough
To be pulled in with the sand
Into your crystal clear abyss
I've known enough of the land
I see rain threatening to come down
But you keep making your design
Always peacefully coexisting
Steady back and forth with time

I wish I were light enough
I wish I could remove my weights
But then again, I would forget
How good you feel in the first place

[Necrox]

Shadows of time flee from the sun
From sweet, sweet lies your canvas hung
Entire thoughts descend cacophonous
Heart beating, moon screams, lost to lust

Help me think of a title?

[bekette24]

"I set out to make a poem
About the blueberry bushes in summer
The way they tangle in my shoelaces
And scratch tiny red lines along my thighs
Catch the hem of summer dresses and pull
Me down to lie in the cradle of the soft, damp earth

I wanted to make a poem About the changing of seasons
And the way winter brings about another year of lines
To my face

I wanted to make a poem About the choices I have made
And have yet to make
Must make
Will make
And the cost of each
Some a farthing, some a guinea, some twenty eight pounds of solid gold
Some my heart , some...my whole life

I wanted to make a poem
About the latest choice....
that cost much, this winter ,
that will catch me up with fingers and pull
Me down to soft earth in summer

But I cannot.
I am not allowed to touch the pretty thing in the garden that calls my name.
What is age but numbers following numbers?
I can tell you what matters most is
what lies in the heart of man each night
as he closes his eyes, and the
Name he praises with the sunrise .

Are you just? Are you righteous? Are you the summer wildness
I crave in the dead of winter monotony?
Are you the anchored, steady breathing in the flurry of my life?

I wish to write a poem so deep and long and wide and rich that
ten thousand scholars search its meaning for ten thousand ages.

I set out to write a poem of blueberry bushes in summer;
let me tell you when I do."

[LittleDreamer]

My Haiku to compliment you all!

Wow am I impressed
So much talent in one thread
You will all go far

[bekette24]

hah!

[Polterguise]

My Haiku to compliment you all!

Wow am I impressed
So much talent in one thread
You will all go far

Thank you so much :) That was really nice, and unexpected.

[Lord Fenix Wulfheart]

The Thief of Ember.
The thief of embers, simmering heat, shedding light, a crimson beat.
Unleashed darkness, hand of flame, to threaten all, himself to blame.
A mere moment, crystallized in time, passed so fast, flames doused in brine.
Regret aplenty, a boundless sadness, for one so lost, in his own madness.
Like in all things, Time shall tell, it will be put to right, at the chiming bell.
To dark places bound, torment undesigned, await the thief, he much maligned.
For those that steal, their thirst to slake, shall meet their fate, of their own make!

[swordpaint24]

The Thief of Ember.
The thief of embers, simmering heat, shedding light, a crimson beat.
Unleashed darkness, hand of flame, to threaten all, himself to blame.
A mere moment, crystallized in time, passed so fast, flames doused in brine.
Regret aplenty, a boundless sadness, for one so lost, in his own madness.
Like in all things, Time shall tell, it will be put to right, at the chiming bell.
To dark places bound, torment undesigned, await the thief, he much maligned.
For those that steal, their thirst to slake, shall meet their fate, of their own make!

A very interesting poem that takes several reads to fully absorb. I find it quite abstract, full of, to quote you, "mere moments, crystallized in time". It's like fragments of mirrors, or broken pictures. Just quick impressions. I like this style. I imagine a man alone, living on some desolate cliff above a beach, dwelling on his past. Just when he begins to feel hope or any kind of happiness, his own memories of whatever terrible deeds he may have done douse any embers of good feeling. He looks forward yet dreads the day when he, or the manifestation of his own failings his imagination has created, will be judged. Like the fire it describes, this poem feels passionate, and like the light of embers, it's somewhat dark. I enjoyed loosely analyzing (if it can be called that) your poem, not to mention reading it. Thanks for sharing!

[L P]

"I set out to make a poem
About the blueberry bushes in summer
The way they tangle in my shoelaces
And scratch tiny red lines along my thighs
Catch the hem of summer dresses and pull
Me down to lie in the cradle of the soft, damp earth

I wanted to make a poem About the changing of seasons
And the way winter brings about another year of lines
To my face

I wanted to make a poem About the choices I have made
And have yet to make
Must make
Will make
And the cost of each
Some a farthing, some a guinea, some twenty eight pounds of solid gold
Some my heart , some...my whole life

I wanted to make a poem
About the latest choice....
that cost much, this winter ,
that will catch me up with fingers and pull
Me down to soft earth in summer

But I cannot.
I am not allowed to touch the pretty thing in the garden that calls my name.
What is age but numbers following numbers?
I can tell you what matters most is
what lies in the heart of man each night
as he closes his eyes, and the
Name he praises with the sunrise .

Are you just? Are you righteous? Are you the summer wildness
I crave in the dead of winter monotony?
Are you the anchored, steady breathing in the flurry of my life?

I wish to write a poem so deep and long and wide and rich that
ten thousand scholars search its meaning for ten thousand ages.

I set out to write a poem of blueberry bushes in summer;
let me tell you when I do."

*claps*

that, was beautiful.

[Lord Fenix Wulfheart]

A very interesting poem that takes several reads to fully absorb. I find it quite abstract, full of, to quote you, "mere moments, crystallized in time". It's like fragments of mirrors, or broken pictures. Just quick impressions. I like this style. I imagine a man alone, living on some desolate cliff above a beach, dwelling on his past. Just when he begins to feel hope or any kind of happiness, his own memories of whatever terrible deeds he may have done douse any embers of good feeling. He looks forward yet dreads the day when he, or the manifestation of his own failings his imagination has created, will be judged. Like the fire it describes, this poem feels passionate, and like the light of embers, it's somewhat dark. I enjoyed loosely analyzing (if it can be called that) your poem, not to mention reading it. Thanks for sharing!

That image is rather akin to the future I envision for the man the poem was about. If he lives that long, that is. He lives a dangerous life.