Tag: poem for the soul
-
hear
Her eyes are a festival of warm tears; her ears are a melody of cold fears,for the aria she once heard has turned black—black as a tire that has hit a flat. The world is a void of endless solitude, for the world she knew is quietude. Vibrations rise through her feet; now, she won’t…
-
Pride
The world, much like the human race, is stitched together into a clock; at some point, the hour hand, the minute hand, and the tiny second hand will stop at its permanent midnight. Life was meant to be Paradise, but the juice of the fruit created a mechanic toxin of complexity: somethings are black and…
-
Me
I’m the girl under a cloud of gray.I’m the one who never understandsHow conflict a world it is in which we live. Time goes right and left until it collides. Good and bad intertwine in the middle of the clouds. Apparently, it’s human to live in the leeway.I’m the girl who measures life in sunshine,…
-
the ballerina
A melody pirouettes in the darkness of my brain; a haze of color, ignites me, fight me, until I am tamed.Toes pointed.Body fluent in untold grace. Stomach tucked in. Legs long. Breath, a song. “Here the cheers,” they say behind the curtains, a drapery of velvet tears, an elegy of youthful years. “Here the chears,”…
-
MAL
Once upon a time,a dark fairychose a heart of gold. Once upon a time, the prince’s heartShe earned,Rising from the cutsAnd burns. Once upon a time, she loved himFor his heartNot his crown.Once upon a time, she turned the worldAround. Once upon a time, She became fire,Igniting from the her soul of ember. Once upon…
-
The Phoenix
Born from ember,That’s what I am. Born by crystallized blood, Born with the heartOf the phoenix. Iron pierces my heart When tears hit my chest, But my pain It’s green.You cannot hurt me.When your bullets Ricochet off my heartYou will feel the glowOf my strength. Your words, Your stick and stones, Your will to strike…
-
The Rose
Youth is a treasure,It’s meant for pleasure; It’s meant for discipline; It’s meant for sin. Youth is a rose.When it blooms, Its beautiful, rich petalsYour senses they consume. You are the sun—Your rays allow for the roseTo grow. You are the water—You keep the roseGrowing. You are the seed—You plant the possibility of youth. But…
-
Saturday night
In the strobe lights,Another Saturday night, Another party in my brain, Another rambunctious Sorry game, I see your face Beautiful like china, Beautiful as Paris.You stick outAmong a row of men In white collars And black suits. EyesLimpid poolsOf ocean blue, Flitting from the cerulean screenGlowing against your face, And back to me. The strobe…
-
Rainbow
I see a rainbowAfter every storm of tears. Crystallized like a diamond,It calls me. Red for the flames.Orange for the hair-pulling.Yellow for the sunshine of smiles.Green for every time I overreact. Blue for the sea that calms me. And purple for the maturity of my soulYoung and old. I wear my colors like a badgeBecause…
-
Beautiful
In the shadows of a cafe, She sits alone.Her only company Is the coffeeBut even it is afraid to speak. Engaged in her own shadows, She fades from the world around her. She forget who she is; Then, everyone forgets her. She and the world are ghosts to one another. Now,She drowns in her own…
Shakespearian1 