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AshBefore the ashes extinguish themselves, the fisherman will catch his golden carpAsh
under a sun and the honeycombs
will melt into their lungs, dripping, until the forests themselves break down and paddle out to sea.
All these, we memorized by rote methods, and after ants assemble back into place, burying themselves inside their thin red skies, we learnt how flawed we were in thinking we would die this way.
In that one single moment when the earth cracked, parting like the red sea that flinched, we asked what made dying so strange, but
by ~princesstef
The PondIn truth, still water never ran deep. The shallow pond never rushed in its pace. Instead it would slide past the rocks, mocking the nearby river for being hasty. The pond was envious of the river, for it admired how graceful, how forceful in was in its flow. The pond had a shallow vision to the bottom where algae and thick soil overwhelmed the asphalt hue. Green plants grew on the smooth stones. Stick insects floated the surface of the pond, giving green frogs their sustenance. The pond never rushed. The mud resisted it from moving around too much and it was determined not to budge. Sometimes the pond, in fits of anger burst into a series ofThe Pond
by ~princesstef
Anorexia NervosaSpring swept past Limbs of golden, glossy and supple Head bursting in a fountain of petals Broad muscular berth held in a graceful tree arch With a hush of your sensuous lips you were flawlessly titillating, delightful in your spirit.Anorexia Nervosa
In the Summer You were a vision Your flabby length of palms Leaves of flesh delicately spread out, Over the rows of onions and parsnips By morning your soul was almost afoot, you ensnarled the earth with your thick brown roots.
Autumn awoke from its slumber By then your ribs trembled in the calm and lovely cool, Dar
by ~princesstef
Angst of '87.I heard the birds, then the lovely breeze In the easy dewey mist that never seemed to cease. I awoke this morning with a deep sigh,Angst of '87.
And the thousand fairy-nymphs glide to embrace my spirit up high.
This morning when I left home and wandered in the park, The languid crispness of the early morning air sang like a lark, And when I danced the happy whirly dance all morn, A myriad of saccharine sweet scents all danced so forlorn.
Oh how I laughed aloud my delightful tongue red, Like torrents of sky-dew scattered on the sea-bed, Moist skin and pained gleaming eyes. A t
by ~princesstef
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: United States
- Interests: Yoga, Writing, Poetry, Shopping
- Favourite poet or writer: Erasmus, Shakespeare
- Personal Quote: "Suddenly I realize / That if I stepped out of my body / I would break / Into blossom."
- Tools of the Trade: No. 2 pencil, a good book, large canvas, shades
- AIM: sparkstef87
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