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Something I thought was absolutely beautiful

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Another cool poem

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A poem I found from a book

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The past ties to another person stain our skin, infect our blood, become part of us, you become part of each other. Unraveling from this is like tearing off your own limb. If involuntarily, it’s like gnawing off the shards of their soul for they ran too deep they slashed your heart.

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A beautiful couple, with rings on their hands, and gold on their shoes. They possessed an extraordinary amount of wealth, and as the couple were, they spent it oh so carelessly. On one of their dates, the woman with her puffy dress and heavy jewelry, told her partner she wanted to see the beach. With a sharp he asked which one.

“By the bay?” He murmured. With glowing eyes she replied, “No, I want the ocean, to the coast of the hot springs”. She was confident in her wants, and so was she in his diction. With a wistful but not condescending timing, he muttered “yes of course”

Hot is the summer sun, though her heart stays cold, a heart murmur is heard from her loved, but she says the sound is just some name. The trees sway as the hills slope and slip into the fields of grass, the farmer becoming little specks.

“I love you” he says.

She stares at the bay. Unable to speak, fathom, she holds his heart in her palm, creased with dust and sand on the veins. She ponders to the ocean with an artistic brush, as the waves paint the shore, she looks no more.

“Why do you not answer?” He asks, the petrels coo above, sounding a melody, filled with disgust.

“I do not love you the way you think” she whispered agian. His heart pumps in her palm, the veins pop, like the roots of a stump.

Although the woman cannot express, she loves the older man, but stooping low in her chest she wants to escape into the waters, the glowing shine is expendable to amber light. Far into the west of North Coralina, the sun sets into orange flames, with yellow clouds and skies running along. Her liking to his heart dims, but even the dunes slope next to the shore, so she holds his hand with a tightened grip. Wrapping her skirt into her other, slipping her heels into the sand, let’s go of his hand.

Running forth into abyss, down into the water of the Rehoboth, the salty gusts pulling her back, but not even Mother Nature can be cut slack. Her finger tips down to her toes dive into the water, her grey highlights stripping gold, she runs away from her omen, drowning in her demise.

Listen close young one

Although the waters were blue

No sadness existed in these dunes

And her heart thumped no more

Even though her lovers heart was torn

He knew the red string has snapped long ago

A tune rang to and from the waters alone

A thrill and trill of a song

The siren, returned home

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By Kenneth Steven’s

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A poem I wrote recently, I just got tumblr and hope to get tips, advice and opinions or opportunities.

-Definitions of certain words are at the bottom

Summer air and drenched leaves

The sharpness of the spines teeth

The wind gliding through my soul

This simple life, such truth it holds

Enclosed in the light that shines through

Is the ties to the past prugh’s*

Emptiness in the eyes of the viewer

He now lacks the creativity of the grauer*

The withering spine of the leaves

Are now wounds of the deceased

As the red infects the roots

He sits at the trunk thinking of the older tune

The song is no remembrance

The chords are a mere semblance*

Her hands let go, her fingers careened* away

He believed she might stay

For little time was the due

Maybe he hoped too much from the douwe*

The dove fluttering by

Coots his eyes to be lies

To be god's fool

The one he sent out to ramble of helpless needs

And bite his omen in exchange for blissful deeds

I will promise what you say holds truth

Unless you say, I love you

For when I say your name

-The red string is only my proclaim

Let this world be greedy

Oh god, make us bleed

Make the artist the muse

So even they can feel the love

Maybe the poet can hear his words

So he can read his melody

We are too starved to express

So much the world feels less

With this abyss of art

The world can seem so large

Do I say these need to be my own?

Or do I ponder what was once shown?

Where the starving woman dances

With the wind she can only see

Like the wind has immortalized her spine

Dashing and jumping in dime

The colors she deems so colorful

Even though her love is not pliable*

Why do you not see the beauty of the world

Is thou not human, not born?

-Even a worm will turn

When the rose is not returned

I will die from this heartbreak, and this curiosity

This vessel in my chest,

will burst from the velocity

I will give and ponder my old addiction

And caprice* what was once love

With my bones that she touched so deeply

I sacrifice and create

What would normally cremate

May this obsession eat me alive

And make my heart palpable*

I doubt from all the smoke

That I may even be edible

*prugh’s-the past wealth, something treasured, in this context it means the ties to an older but treasured love

*grauer-a German word for grey, but in Shakespeares age, the words means dignified or serious. This line shows admiration for creativity in something that is so bleak.

*semblance-the appearance or outward show of something, often with an implied deception or pretense.

*careened-the act of moving swiftly away

*douwe- Dutch version of dove, a symbol of hope, in this context, the person put too much faith in the dove, snd later mentions a dove cooting lies.

*pliable-easily influenced

*Caprice-a sudden and unaccountable change of mood or behavior.

*palpable-able to be touched or felt, tangible.

-The red string, a Chinese reference to the myth of the red string meaning fate, of two people being tied together, soulmates.

-even a worm will turn, meaning the meekest or most docile of creatures will retaliate or seek revenge if pushed too far.