So I'm going to be putting just a select 60 poems on here throughout the month, and I can't promise to do so daily (I travel too much). I'd put every one, but a lot are just haikus. But, if anyone wants (probably no one cares but whatevs) me to post every poem, be warned for some are pretty horrid. :3 Okay, also I'll probably come back and edit this one because I wrote a pretty awful ending with description. I'm done talking now.
Chasing Rainbows
i.
"It's a sin."
Lips pressed together forming a mess of 'California Sunset' and 'Red Roses' into a shade all their own; they eyes of those just passing by flashing like emergency signs.
"Your case will never win."
Yesterdays rainbows swept away by the storm of supporters of societies norm, clouds of smoke and flooded gutters filled by the pollution of those who wished only to see pink and blue instead of the beauty of colorful skies across the bright blue sky.
"She can't be your wife."
The sound of church bells fired into their heads, the shaking of two mistreated souls then separated by the force of a law considered 'holy'.
"Why did she take her life?"
False tears streaming from those who chose to see only see two colors, the tears of those who chased rainbows mixing with the ash of a life that would soon become their unfortunate fate.
(b.m.)
"I write for fear of silence." Apartment - Young The Giant
Taking French and knowing enough words to write a French haiku is always pretty fun.Don't mind the incorrect accents above letters, my keyboard doesn't have that.
Abime Coer
ii.
"Secours moir." elle cri, campon a la restes de elle abime coeur.
(b.m.)
"I write for fear of silence." Apartment - Young The Giant
I wish I could understand French. XD As it is, it's so lovely seeing you NaPo in another language. ^^
Rainbows is so rich with imagery, mrm. I also like the way you wove the entirety of the story together; narrative poetry usually has this prose-like quality to it, but your writing is very vividly dreamlike!
Criticism is needed and welcomed. Good luck making sense of the madness. Or is it sadness?
"And the 'fishes' gave her kisses."
iii.
Freedom lay just around the bend of the river-- cold water twisting it's way against the winds wishes to venture toward the light --darkness letting shadows ride upon discarded treasures to one day rest upon the rocks that have witnessed many moonless nights.
With a wink to the sky, she crossed her heart and wished to die.
Tumbling,
falling,
t w i s t i n g,
with the rushing rapids. And in her last moments, she let the fish give her kisses that her discarded body had long desired, her perishing existence than twinkling in the darkened sky to guide the next child of light into the sacred shadows of darkness.
(b.m.)
"I write for fear of silence." Apartment - Young The Giant
He was a candle on a windy night. Powerful, hotly burning, and full of light to fight against the darkness. But sometimes the wind pushed him around and he unwillingly scolded my unsuspecting heart, leaving me with scars and smoldering ember in my mind whilst he then fought for his vengeance against the moving air.
(b.m.)
"I write for fear of silence." Apartment - Young The Giant
My first poem to you was one of flowers that's picked petals twirled in the afternoon wind. One of the love that spun around my head and kept my heart jumping faster than the rabbits that came to visit the meadow of flowers.
This was page one.
In between the book was the brittle flowers, once freshly picked underneath a sunset sky. Tear stains littered the details of rainy days and darkened nights.
My last poem to you was the blood-stained account of how flowers only die with age and the coldness of changing seasons kill the potential of a new garden to bloom. One that hinted of a future resting underneath the next generation's garden of weeds.
This was the last page.
(b.m.)
"I write for fear of silence." Apartment - Young The Giant
The wind was whispering of a hearts new mistake as lips collided underneath forest branches that overlooked a thriving blue lake.
Now with regret, he could remember how her words once plucked at his veins and how he once dreamed a gun's silvery bullets would leave only his hearts remains.
(b.m.)
"I write for fear of silence." Apartment - Young The Giant
Can you guess what it is? Maybe? I've made if fairly easy to solve. c;
vii.
Free from the light, the screen's once flat neon light jumped for the heavens, being dragged back under each time the light attempted it's flight until it had found a center of gravity to balance between.
(b.m.)
"I write for fear of silence." Apartment - Young The Giant
I'm not really sure what this is. But I kinda like what it is.
viii.
01.01.13
My name is Brianna. Three syllables that fly from the unsuspecting tongue. Little did they know that the summon of my name only left for a world full of pain for those who called. I've got a secret that I want the world to hear-- run now, and do it quickly-- because it's only with the changing of seasons that my heart and mind switch reasons to react upon.
I am the falling rain, freezing over as the light warming innocent hearts is ripped to different skies.
An umbrella can't protect you from me now.
01.01.14
My name is Brie. A string of four letters that fall from the bitter tongue. Their tiny minds can't seem to comprehend that the calling of my name leaves only tracing lines upon their wrists that will one day be colored with the red of their regret. My secrets lay trapped-- not that anyone was listening-- between two pursed lips, clean of any color much desired by society.
I am the shadow lurking behind your brightened day, creeping out of view yet remaining barely visible.
With each ray of light, I disappear.
01.01.15
The tombstone reads a name; Brianna
A clueless child caresses the deep carvings on the curved stone, dropping flowers on a painted box just like her mother did. Though she didn't understand why the 'big kids' were crying, she knew that the dark clouds covering the sky meant it was time to go inside to avoid the rain.
(b.m.)
"I write for fear of silence." Apartment - Young The Giant
This is a HUGE work in progress, but I might as well post it so I can come back to it. I'm pretty excited, and with a lot of editing I'm going to make it perfect <3
ix.
In December, two pinkie fingers locked in a promise as snow fell on their shaking figures. "Promise you'll meet me here each month?" was the question now twisted in their littlest fingers.
In January, two tones of laughter bounced from the clusters of naked trees trunks. Snow was flung through the frozen air until it stuck to the fragile fibers of their woolen coats. And again, the twist of two pinkie fingers set the next meeting date, then the two shaking figures parted separate ways.
In February, two sets of boots waded through the puddles of slush, the sound of birds filling the air. Two frozen pinkies locked once more, wading separate ways only after their promise had been made.
In March, two nets swished at the wilted blades of green and brown in the hopes of catching fireflies. The setting sun conducted the night to sing it's song of chirps and clicks, two sets of ears listening with glee. Darkness led, once more, two pinkie fingers to lock into a promise of the next month.
In April, two pink tongues caught the falling drops of rain, two huddling figures then taking refugee from the rain underneath the tree's as it poured. At the sight of a slowly fading rainbow, two shriveled pinkies wet from the rain locked in a promise.
In May, two flowers were plucked of their petals in order to determine the truth of love, joy upon the two faces as they learned 'He loves me!'. Yet as the patch of flowers were stripped into bare patches of weeds, two fingers locked in promise beneath the setting sun.
In June, two sun kissed figures found refugee in the tree's shadows, squeamish giggles heard as two sets of feet bounced through the mud. By sundown, the two hiding figures emerged and went separate ways only after locking pinkies.
In July, two sets of eyes watched in fascination at the display of multicolored streaks of light. Two pops and one crack, decorating the sky for the two figures to gaze upon. When the sky fell back into darkness, two locked pinkies created fireworks all their own before they parted ways.
In August, two pairs of discarded sandals lay against tree trunks, imagination turning sticks into swords as they shouted battle cries for an epic war. When the 'war' had ended in a tie, two pinkie fingers created a settlement of peace before two separate royals parted to different kingdoms.
In September, one mountain of leaves hid two sets of lips that tested how many sparks they could make. Yet as the wind blew the leaves to the demanding sky, two pinkie fingers locked firm before they were swept in different directions.
In October, two figures wore very diverse costumes. One, a healthy boy and the other, a fading boy pale as a ghost. They split candy, counting the colorful pieces in excitement. Later, full with sugar, one sturdy pinkie locked with a shaking one, making a promise one more.
In November, two shoes ran toward the boy struggling to trek through the snow. One kiss from two sets of lips brought warmth to both, frozen breath steaming like smoke stacks as they talked. As frozen pieces of natures art fell upon their skin, two pinkie fingers locked in promise to return once more.
In December, two eyes cried tears soon frozen on his face, one pinkie finger outstretched to the sky in honor of his love who died.
(b.m.)
"I write for fear of silence." Apartment - Young The Giant
All truly wise thoughts have been thought already thousands of times; but to make them truly ours, we must think them over again honestly, till they take root in our personal experience. — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Gender:
Points: 872
Reviews: 171