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		#2	Merskelly Metalien Icy Footed
[[POETRY]] Just some poems I make. Some of them I'm really proud of and others are well, just meh. :/ But will be posting all my poetry here for November and beyond. NOV 1 Hungry and Tired Chemicals flavor Favoring savoring Savior through consumption Constructing energy Engine replenished Recovering again Against the cold and the heat Sour, salty and sweet I love you, my future meal. Whatever. Can I stop a candle burning Catch the wind with my hand Collect the shells inside deep sand Or find trials more concerning? When the candle burns out When the wind is encased When every shell from the sand erased Will I be left proud, or left empty? Demons When they strike, They work hard To convince me and, To turn me into, Someone they want, To stick around inside, And keep them safe, So they can strike, So they can stay, So I can leave, Everything. NOV 4 It’s Getting Cold Total end of daylight The dark and cold is absorbed My skin pulls tight And a shiver stops to visit Quiet steps on the icy floor I breathe clouds outdoors Several times more I notice the sun leave quicker It’s getting colder Once more approaches darkness I’m getting older And sleep is now more friendly. The Treason of the Smile It echoes scars in the heart to awake. That infectious grin with teeth so long. The lips parted and curled Into the perfect shape of a blade. The color of pain and ripped flesh Comes to mind, but it is masked. Masked as warm love. It’s lovely, the smile. It brings me to echo it’s appearance. Only I shy from parting my lips. I keep from displaying my teeth. I cannot help but to be brief in showing, Because I know too well, The harm it can cause, Should the smile linger too long. The pain, the pain that jabs, When coupled with the eyes, Is much to bear. Once foolishly bought as truth, Hides the price of a stinging lie. Soon the smile goes into combat, And the victor departs, While the defeated remains, Bathed in agony, And protectively disguised as laugher. Witness, the smile sees through. It cannot keep a secret To those who already know, What wretched, crooked, Twisted, wicked, Vile, Beguiling, Alluring, lecherous treachery it is capable of. Understand? The last of today Can be given tomorrow. Light is breathed through Skin and heart. A way to freedom Is to be bound to discomfort. Solitude is peace But so is dull electricity. The first thing you see Will always be forgotten, But it is replaced with the dream You might have thought was in your walls. Drum away, And light the match, To keep warm, And remind yourself, That everything is science, And art, And history, all together. NOV 5 Butter Pecan Syrup Orange as the juice Alone in the woodchips I can still feel my fingers in paint In sand And the stenchy pages Of the dinosaur book Glimmer and mesmerize. The sweets The sweets The sweets of ribbons and rain Quiet behind the mirror Soft puppets dancing And building themselves A spaceship. New castles Shadow the old ones, Massive then, Made of delicate pillows and sheets And blankets and cushions. When the sun rose It rose in me, Warm and bright And happily hungry. Eggs, and potatoes, Before the divinity Of those silver dollars Laying like petals And covered in the sweet softness of Butter Pecan. Wild Card Circus of trivia Show of skill and laughter And the last roll that decides The last card drawn The stack falls over Scattered like leaves Like confetti The goal is reached The last one standing The points tally Let’s go again And see if the victor was helped by luck Or by their crazy skills At this game? NOV 7 Lone dog Today is Thursday. I can’t remember when last it rained. When did I send myself to any other room? I keep my blankets close, my feet are chilled. Where am I? Sometimes I wish I had a pet to keep me company. Shouldn’t I be making busy with all of my tasks and working away my passions? I feel calm in my space. It is fall. It is cold but there is warmth in music. What am I doing? Like a master petting his good dog, I stroke my hair soothingly. I am my best friend. Wouldn’t I love to stay like this? You’re such a good girl. But my ghostly tail does not wag. Instead it remains still, and my ears relaxed. My ears perk at the sound of a horn, to my family my eyes light up. I’m such a good girl. Alone tomorrow once again, I long for myself, my master. In the blankets and the pillows, in the safety of the dark, She always tells me I’m such a good girl... Clashing Colors Every year Sometimes for free We watch great battles On T.V. Two sides, One victory Represented colors Numeral bowls in history Like bears, like broncos Like vikings, like giants, They claw and dash, Conquer and smash, All for the little brown almond ball, To rescue and return it to their home. Their nests, their dens, Their lands, their turfs, Guarded and guided, Relentless and excited, To watch that hero charge through, And win that game, for glory and fame. NOV 9 Morninglight The lazy light pours onto my cheek In the coldness around me, constantly, around me, this sluggish, tired, weary, warmth cannot be felt. Instead it comes with questionable joy and empty intentions, like an infant, small and not yet fully grown. It awakens me from the comfortable void of sleep. In the time of a fraction of a thought, I am overcome with calm dread. A sigh or a moan escapes me before the waking yawn. That lazy light. That morning beacon. So quiet. So aggravating. Not unlike the light of the moon, but the moonlight is far more kind. Leave me be you beam of light, and wake me again when you mature. Cold Fright Like jagged ice, is how I would describe my fear. I feel it's chill scrape against the nape of my neck. It numbs my skin. It cuts into me. Makes me Shiver. Shiver. Makes me Freeze. And unsettles my warm innards, like a delicious meal going cold and ugly. The fear allows my poor heart alone to be the sole organ responsible for keeping my shivery body alive, while it is encased in that jagged ice. My fear has frozen me. Function Today was Tomorrow I turn in turn they turn away The wheel isn't real but I spin it anyway. Volts spent, Sparks vanish I rust and sputter tired I mutter nervous I stutter and hope I've done a good enough job. Am I still in working function? Am I still proper? And is it still today? NOV 10 Over Still in time The last of what feels like Emptiness Memories are stinging wounds I love that it is over Jailed by fear and held by my reluctant, reclusive arms I shy from all that moves Inked black by what I had Endured It isn't Over Again I track down my thoughts, all Scattered all Healing Like my arms surrounding me As if to soothe and say, I felt, "It's over. It's over." Devil of Music Sing a song of six heads Make them all bang away Bathing in deep sound Violent river Sharp rebound Make them shiver Old and New Cowards and Heroes Cry out with horns high up Savage rhythm Envelops Our Cataclysm Rock-a-bite my soul Your voice warms my desire Electric battle, finish my ears Cold delivery Outlet mirrors At last the dark is free It's no fun It's no fun being a mosquito, I'm such a quiet pest. It's no fun being a ghost, I'm so lonely and upset others. It's no fun being a joke, My punchline mocks me. It's no fun being a flower bud, My beauty is null and suspect. It's no fun being me, unless I make you smile. NOV 11 Pilot of the Heart From the wreck My pilot crawls Injured, wounded, weak Like the vessel that lays in pieces All around, On the ground, All around, Lost and found. The rains after the storm, Come to put out the flames, To soothe the cuts, But the cold lingers. My pilot, cries My pilot, lies My pilot tries, Again, And again Despite the pain, To gather up the wreckage, And build it back again. Afraid of perhaps another crash, Or another failure of instruments, Full of doubt, And reluctant to fly, To get behind the yoke, To know where to turn, Unprepared to die. Without my Pilot, My pilot cannot make me see, That I have a heart once more, And can love and feel, And soar. The Field I’m lost and blind Mud and smoke in my eyes While the men, the boys around me die The sight of them still in my mind. The scent is damp with blood, The ringing of the blast echoing The patters of gunfire ricketing, Next to my leg comes a dreadful thud. Help me, I stagger away. I wipe my eyes and face, Out of the field I race, Help me, I must escape the fray. My legs feel damp. Scratched, Shrapnel sticks below my knee, Something heavy there slapping me, An arm without, an owner somehow, attached. I fall with a cry, Down a hill as I bleed. Help me, Help me! I plead. I want to go home! Why? Oh Why?! Dripping No breath Cold. My body Drips. I tried to return. The ocean was Merciless. Stung my lungs, Deep. She sank slowly, Lost fathoms below. Dead. I return to a deck, Slipping. Dragging. Calling. Dripping. Dripping. ^^^Click to go to my pond hangout^^^ ^^^ Click to go to my frickin' art shop ^^^ Last edited by Merskelly Metalien; 11-12-2019 at 02:12 AM.
	Posted 11-01-2019, 02:23 PM