[x]

i really want to...
i allowed the word to curl
against the ceiling of my mouth.
cradling the absence of a
storm that never came
roosting over rafters of a
note stretched far too long.
seeping through my teeth and
pulling moisture from the rain.

"fly"

Soakeda rainbow
spectrum of
soft bruises
nestles in
the space
between her
fingertips
and heartbeat.
a silent reminder of
all the nights
she spent in
the solitude
of your
company.

Actress
Luxurious lies dropped in
sparks from her lips
like the last cigarette of the day.
With fine slender nails
she unfurled rolls of red
like match striking breath to a flame.

She slithers her way
through a slicked inky gown
with eyes trimmed in frosting of gold.
Her rose pedal lips
bloomed above whitened fangs.
Rehearsing the lines she was told.

She spends her days spinning
within a glass box
reinventing new ways to perform.
Checking off names
of the public she mocks
While sliding their tongues across thorns.

The actress, the mask,
the palm of your hand
hearts opening now and again.
Her mind is a slate;
a canvas

Rain Rain
Time dipped its frozen fingertips
in the waters of my bones,
wringing them dry of once purple skies
and smoothing away gentle grooves of nostalgia;
a topless render to my optimistic lens.

The sky began to fade like a freshly broken bruise:
Red, orange, yellow, green, purple, black, white.
a pallet of sour syllables that settled in my teeth
& festered deep within the crooked corners of my mouth,
occasional expressions pulsing through uncharted steam.

Bitterly dissolving like the powder of an hourglass
It drips like dew across my window &
nestles in the crooks, the kind of way a comma
hugs the corners of an 'n'.

rain, go away.

Forgotten RemainsThere once was a great nation… a nation with a name.

But now they are the…

Forgotten remains;
forgotten they remain.
The memories they hold,
the tears they contain,
are theirs' alone
only theirs to atone.

Their curse

Whimpers gently rise;
tears flow again
for time cruelly denies
salvation from pain.
They seek sleep to happy lies
but such tries are in vain.

Dying but living on;
futile hope too moves on.
They're engraved deep in graves,
poor soulless souls enchained.
Confined and enslaved,
with no happiness saved.
They rot in a gorge
where only sorry reigns.

Their story

Theirs tales shriek through night

Even Leaves Fall For You
Gentle whispers
break
beneath a crest
of autumn leaves

capturing the fragments
of a drowsy
sunlit breeze

clipping velvet metaphors
to strewn
amongst the trees

just to
snag
the linen
of a darting sun rays
sleeve

Paper Cranes

The tilting creek dipped below
the arches of a wild unfurling hillside
humming in the scented breeze.

There was a child, I remember-
Squatting low at river's waist.
He released a paper-crane
which bent against the flower-foamed waves
in junctures pantomiming a butterfly's sail.

There he sat motionless as the keel and mast
hooked a sharpened silver wind,
guiding it through the river's adverse walls
of rubble and terrain.

I followed it now, bending back autumn trees
and stumbling grainy dunes.
It ducked beneath the shadows of a broken sky
and bound like a fish through rosy churns of liquid sapphire.

Faster I ran, to maintain

all poets are used to deceitare you still savoring
the taste of deceit
off the edge
of your limerick tongue?
you know what i mean
you "poet of unusual sorts,"
with your
chaotic green eyes
and skin of pale misfortune
leaving scents of sweet seas when oceans
begin to spite you.

yes, your silent panthers,
loyal only to the sound of sonnets
of broken piano chords
and keys and torn six-strings.
those slithe things will
prove to you
once,
that betrayal is just eight letters
of pleasure undercover.

it's these little beauties that
will make you see;
every liar was an artist
and every poet was a whore,
just till the point
they owned you no more.

ever

SadnessSadness had always been an active resident in the places I had lived.
It swelled and breathed and scented the breeze like the dying petals of spring,
floating through open windowpanes and settling like dust on the empty shelves.
Sometimes it just appeared without visible entry like the cobwebs that roost in those corners you had thought so clean just a day ago. Or it unraveled in the morning dew and graced the cold spring skies, scattered like hundreds of wandering stars only visible in the light of a window.

It would melt into my morning tea, cooling the little tornadoes of cream and sugar that spun around my spoon and it would pass behi

Heartbeat Box

I have a single heartbeat
locked and boxed in glass
It's tucked beside my window
and sheltered from the past

I water it quite often
with honeydew and milk
It reaches for the sunshine
with petals pruned of silk

At night It whispers softly
and dances for the moon
It beats in gentle hiccups
and wakes me in the noon

I've bound it on a kite-wire
I've watched it fly away
Too many times it's broken
I should leave it on display

cinderella died yesterday"burn your tiaras,
bury your fairy godmother.
it's time for you to grow up now, you're
no peter pan.
forget never never land.

stars are just burning balls of gas that are
slowly running out of time- they can't
hear your wishes.

cast aside your dr. seuss books like you will
later cast aside your bibles.
after all, a fairy tale is a fairytale is a fairytale.
life will teach you that.

grace, you were born into a role
only a very strong girl can play.
see, society will hate you for being
what they don't want to believe.

surrender your throne, your castle is under siege.

stop being fascinated with the sky,
you'll never go there.

Ocean EyesYour ocean eyes will inherit the earth,
and the gulls of the sea will not brace you
for what the waves and winds have broken down.

The pearls of your mouth are just now washing to shore,
and your endearing reach trusts with ivory naivety,
but your lack of profanity will not save you from perversion.

All I can do is sing you love songs,
and hope the world is still worth saving,
when your ocean eyes reflect the sky, still blue.

I miss you, and i can't say i'm sorry
because these slender, spider fingers
ache to trace the curved letters of your name tag,
emily.  i notice you write everything in caps.

  ( have i ever told you
how much i enjoy saying your name, -EMILY. )

you are screaming to the world, quietly.
but we, we are mid-morning whispers
over stale, back room coffee,
silent eyes, and window pane love.
these hearts were runaways once;
hitchhikers on a trail to nowhere.
you shared pieces of yourself with me then,
emily, between beats and bathroom stalls.
you were a gargoyle under the heat
of july summer.  evenings were our playg

LimelightLimelight.

Why do we go for the things we're not supposed to?

             Why are we attracted to things our parents are opposed too?

                       Why can't we control the things we are unknowingly exposed too?

                              How come despite our best efforts, we can be fully composed to

Browse More Like This

Download File
HTML, 658 bytes more ▶

More from ~HoldTheNoise

Deep in the womb of my cruelest intentions
budded a flower of flesh.
The hatred I bore through an internal war
made true the lore of its rest.
Every flick of my heart
further nourished the seed.
With assumptions, it grew as a twin.
She engraved violet thoughts in the walls of my chest,
Her fingernails grading my skin.
I can feel her at night as she travels inside.
Like a burning; an itch I can't cure.
She'll disguise herself dear
So she knows of your fear.
Your intentions of hate she'll secure.

The Dancing Conscience

Press your face against the glass.
Let me gaze in at what wonders you could've had.
For your punctured paper conscience
is folded like a secret.
It's strung upon a spinning thread in the center of your chest.
When the tempting winds stir, it pirouettes yet never falls.
And when the frosty fires fold its twisted edges,
stronger it blooms, like a flower in spring.
When the waves of discomfort skim its fragile toes

It makes way... So it can dance.

Good People Good people make mistakes.

Heartbeat Box

I have a single heartbeat
locked and boxed in glass
It's tucked beside my window
and sheltered from the past

I water it quite often
with honeydew and milk
It reaches for the sunshine
with petals pruned of silk

At night It whispers softly
and dances for the moon
It beats in gentle hiccups
and wakes me in the noon

I've bound it on a kite-wire
I've watched it fly away
Too many times it's broken
I should leave it on display

ScatteredI felt like a child on my palms and knees
Fingers sweeping the floorboards
like a beggar searching for scattered marbles.

I will find them all.

Paper Cranes

The tilting creek dipped below
the arches of a wild unfurling hillside
humming in the scented breeze.

There was a child, I remember-
Squatting low at river's waist.
He released a paper-crane
which bent against the flower-foamed waves
in junctures pantomiming a butterfly's sail.

There he sat motionless as the keel and mast
hooked a sharpened silver wind,
guiding it through the river's adverse walls
of rubble and terrain.

I followed it now, bending back autumn trees
and stumbling grainy dunes.
It ducked beneath the shadows of a broken sky
and bound like a fish through rosy churns of liquid sapphire.

Faster I ran, to maintain

View Gallery

Featured in Groups:

#written-from-within
Written From the Soul

#writeaway
Find Your Inner Voice

#Writers-Guild-DA
writers everywhere

#BleedingHeartsPoetry
A Poetry Club

#Pencils-of-Doom
After School Art Club

#ThePoetryofDA
DA Poetry Club

#Unseen-Authors

#writers-central
Pens are mightier than swords.

Show all (40)

Details

Submitted: August 11, 2012
File Size: 658 bytes

Link

Thumb

Statistics

Comments: 24
Favourites: 36 [who?]
Views: 679 (0 today)
Downloads: 13 (0 today)

[x]

Insomnia

by ~HoldTheNoise, Aug 11, 2012, 9:12:09 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

A miniature moon floats sleepily atop my open window; a drifting continent sifting over shivering tree tops. Watery clouds explore along the broken crest of atoms, fingers rolling in the shadows of its dimensions. My skewed sight steadily begins to repaint the scattered stars and one by one like raindrops, they burst across the sky Breathing down in thoughtful shafts upon the inside of my eyelids. _{I'm thankful to be an insomniac.}

Insomniaby ~HoldTheNoise

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

©2012-2013 ~HoldTheNoise

H-HELLO AGAIN

Last post for a little while. School's about to start back and I already have tons of homework to do

_{Don't my teachers know I have poetry needing posting?!}

_{Leave a comment and I'll love you forever.}

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

Mood: Amazed

~nigelsum Aug 12, 2012

Vivid. Just so beautifully writting. BIG FAN.

Reply

Mood: Love

~HoldTheNoise Aug 12, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Gaahhh, THANK YOU!!

Reply

~algar1 Aug 12, 2012

I like it, and I thought that it was funny that I was reading this at almost 4:00 at night.

Reply

~HoldTheNoise Aug 12, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Haha, oooh Irony, you never cease to amuse me x)

Reply

~GlitteringCloud Aug 12, 2012 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

This is so beautiful, really awesome!

Reply

~HoldTheNoise Aug 12, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you so much!!

Reply

~PearlsCat Aug 11, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

This is really great! Awesome imagery. I liked the line "fingers rolling over the shadows of its dimensions." Reminds me of car headlights passing by and leaving light beams across the wall.

Reply

Mood: Joy

~HoldTheNoise Aug 11, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you!! You always leave the nicest comments <3

I love reading your observations <33

Reply

~PearlsCat Aug 11, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Your writing is awesome. I can't really write poetry, so I admire people who can.

Reply

~HoldTheNoise Aug 11, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Ahhh, well thank you again!!

Reply

Previous
1
2
3
Next