biancarayne

I am in line to be gassed. With muted voice, the resident fascists converse on such matters as Aryans and imprisoning yellow stars. The same yellow star that has so ...

It is 3 am and the black sky overhead resembles a snake, onyx coils poised to strike. I am Cleopatra and these pearls will prove my noose. A string of ...

(I think this stanza can stand alone...however they were others that went with it that I've also posted it up, but I think this one is the best and since ...

My breath fogs up the window, shape of a moth-wing, with artificial lights interrupting my brief spiral of unrepentant joy. This is the Autobahn, heavily trafficked by extraneous ideas that ...

The same can be said for you as for me- originality has never existed, merely different forms of the same ideas repeated again and again, for the amusement of the ...

You press me close, your granite surface rubbing my skin raw, unforgiving limbs adhesive as duct tape. I look into your eyes, captivated. They are Conflagrant in a field of ...

Hammerfists erase punctuation marks in favor of acerbicrunons, the static of bad reception adding a dulcet undertone to to the screeching tires of your getaway car. Fingertips trace the tracks ...

I am infinitely blue, a watercolored sky, lips of sun eager to kiss your purple mountains that roll away, like a billow of smoke in the sun, left with Appalachian ...

~I'm in a slump, both stories and poetry. The ink from my pen has dried and refuses to flow no more; a world in which creativity reigned in me has ...

A caffeine induced hallucination, that must be it. Three hours of surveying the swirling patterns on the wooden table, and I finally spot the eye. It’s taken five cups of ...

Passionately you arranged familiar atoms into unfamiliar structures, slinging ink with a quill fingertip to inscribe your wonder upon the universe, rolled up like a scroll. Creation trembles as a ...

I live on this bridge of rhythmic pulsations, dissension building between the major and minor chords. My heartstrings are yearning for your finger, a featherdust brush of heartrending harmony. You ...

~I haven't been able to write much good poetry for a if anyone knows how to tap into a fried muse, it would be appreciated muchly!~ Glacial as December, you ...

My chemicals are as faulty as bloodletting, or the wiring of a firefly, Saharan-monologue as far flung as the Universe, inadequate as Earth, a spinning apple core on a blanket, ...

Coal black eyes shift (like the headlights of a car breaking the sound barrier) That, combined with cigarette fingertips, burns holes in my heart. You are my hangover from last ...

I'll be with the pill bottles, the scalpels, the nooses if you ever want to find me; I'll be looking at my rain-rippled reflection in the glass, a ghost of ...

I jot down the letter, swaying to the rhythm of each jaded love profession, swimming in the black light, floundering beneath every too-sharp note. Each scribble, each black line and ...

~I'm not sure if it's clear enough what this one is about.....I like it for some reason, but I'm not sure if it's any good either so anyone with any ...

A slip of the pen and you know me- frontward and sideways, an amoeba submerged in a glacial metal sky, beneath the moon’s telescopic eye. Raising hands, I break the ...

I I close my eyes, feel small against the dense black waiting there for me, makes me cling to voice, vision, breath minnowing from I (feel chest deflate, punctured, and ...

First Movement: I swing to the melody of your breathing. Your eyes are jazz, and I tango in-between your fingertips. The music we move to is rough and earthy, and ...