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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 18, 2004 23:37:11 GMT -5
Poem: Photographs
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=pillsaregoodforyou&action=display&thread=1097560755
Photographs
Faces you never thought you'd see
Familiarities you never thought you'd be-
Knowingly thinking you'd be safe-
In the arms of your sisters,
But finding there's no better place-
To whither-
In actuality.
Their colors seem to go so well together-
But I like-
The simplicity of your blacks and whites...
I'd walk your edges of infinity, forever-
But I know-
That grays- are all, I'd find.
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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 18, 2004 23:37:43 GMT -5
Poem: Firefly
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=pillsaregoodforyou&action=display&thread=1097560684
Firefly
I Tire-
Of Attention Prostitutes-
And am Weary-
Of 'One more chances'...
Who's heavy hearts Look
Just like Riverstones...
But sink-
Like them too.
I should have found
The first time-
That your empty heart
Lightens- My own.
And after you Fade-
I'll Smile...
My whole- way home
And I'll Pretend-
To Be-
A Firefly.
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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 18, 2004 23:38:20 GMT -5
Poem: Everything
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=pillsaregoodforyou&action=display&thread=1097560625
Everything
I'm sorry-
That I could not say
Everything that I wanted you to hear
And I know
You know,
That it hurts-
When words
Mean so much.
Especially
When you're waiting-
In the dark.
Lost...
Was I ever-
Until I found you?
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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 18, 2004 23:38:52 GMT -5
Poem: Grains of Sand
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=pillsaregoodforyou&action=display&thread=1097560557
Grains of Sand
Are you so angry-
when the sand steals your words?
When it-
Falls
...through your fingers?
Isn't it so
Inconvenient-
When it-
Washes you away?
Just
keep-
[keeping]
Your words from me.
You dont know,
I know-
That soon-
You'll have
Nothing. left. to say.
Your silence
is what keeps you alive-
Inhale, Love.
Save your breath-
Because-
It's mine.
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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 18, 2004 23:40:45 GMT -5
Poem: Headache
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=pillsaregoodforyou&action=display&thread=1097560481
Headache
Sometimes I think
my mind is just a waste
of colored
lights and waves...
Of-
broken parachutes, of promises...
of black-
and white headaches.
A waste...
of water
and wishes-
to be on fire,
And ways
of wanting to feel alive
when you've never-
felt
so tired.
Squinting eyes-
trace the length
of my words-
and blend
the edges
until they turn to gray...
Fingers-
[Consuming]
Creating...
A new embracing blindness-
for the jealous
Mind's-
...headache...
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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 18, 2004 23:41:26 GMT -5
Poem: Feel
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=pillsaregoodforyou&action=display&thread=1097560411
Feel
Realization is a sickness
that never gets better.
One that- makes you feel like dying-
because you know you can't always feel alive.
Makes your insides ache-
because those times when you swear that you could fly,
you're mocked at having no wings to do so.
A sickness that makes you fall apart
and forces you to catch yourself-
because no one else knows
where the pieces might scatter
or how to catch them if they did.
A sickness that makes you believe
that it's a gift
to not dream-
because that way,
you don't know-
what you cannot have.
A sickness that fools you
into moments of long-awaited acceptance
just to find you only saw what you wanted to,
and they stood blind to everything you thought they could see.
Makes you jealous
of the oblivious
because only you-
are alone in knowing
the hurt-
of not being able to share bliss with anyone.
It's a sickness
that makes you proud
to embrace your flaws
because only you see the beauty in them
and feel privelaged-
to be unhappy.
But it's this kind of sickness
that people wouldn't give for anything-
because you cant help but smile
when youre in pain,
because thats when you know- you can still feel.
And youre content in your selfishness, because its a gift
to know-
that you actually can.
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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 18, 2004 23:49:19 GMT -5
Poem: Next Fall
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=Other&action=display&thread=1097560259
Next Fall
If you ask what I saw,
I could see
nothing...
but things-
grow older...
and-
out of reach.
I never loved the sky...
I was too envious
from being forced
to throw my shadow
against sunburnt grass...
...because- even then,
I knew-
you could die
just from [sunshine]
itself.
Every year-
I- fell.
and my many secrets faded
and flew from me
just to
regrow
and leave me alone again...
forever. and. never.
But I was not ungreatful
to watch
your feathers
scatter
like my leaves...
to wait-
to-
fade...
into...
...the next.
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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 18, 2004 23:49:52 GMT -5
Poem: Red Balloon
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=Other&action=display&thread=1097559617
Red Balloon
...and I- was swept...
I drove by fires that said,
"Wish you- were here," frowning as I asked
if they could greet you- goodbye.
I let you have them-
those times- under the stars...
counted- and accounted for-
you just- know.
Of all these things you do-
they'll never know the importance-
the sport- of seeing...
and we compete...
It is- yourself that you paint
as they draw blank stares
and stop- to watch you run-
when questioned- in the most complex...of clarity.
And I hover here- shading streaks of your past-
and that is what makes me follow you...
"Because we- make sense."
Even still...this sky holds more-
than you can inhale...
The eyes that want to take in so much at once-
can never open wide enough.
Because there's only so much you can take
and that you can explain
And I- close my eyes...
Because you are so beautiful-
you let me.
There need be- no explanation-
of airbags- that hush such sorrow-
from windows, that hide-
all...hope...
and door handles- that shine...to spite them.
They all had- the best view...
Blood-red- it rose...
screaming silence
for windshields- that crashed~
all...parting ways-
for its meaning...
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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 18, 2004 23:50:35 GMT -5
Poem: Lavender and Sin
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=Other&action=display&thread=1097559327
Lavender and Sin
"We all go through dry spells," you said.
Words roll off the tongue
like the *click* of a newly lit cigarette
they spill out- to anyone
that slows to take a breath.
Like circles of gray around hearts to be stolen
of hands so driven...to drive me away...
never failing...to remind me
but not today...
All they're handing out- are empty hands
but yours- have been washed clean...
Hollowed be thy name.
For the wages of lavender and sin,
is emptiness.
Like those neon lights your eyes stared blankly at
they used to blink from time to time...
you were never quite sure- which ones did...
But not anymore.
You no longer feel the waste of a day
you can't breathe in again...
The daylight casts away all remains
of the memories before
and I'm stepping on your shadow
to make me think- I am keeping up.
I sit beside you
when you're not here next to me...
but I pretend you are-
and sing to you anyway.
So sweet sometimes...
it makes my stomach burn.
It melts away
like the flowers of your words
you've been waiting to get off your chest...
forever bearing- the wings of a stone
for a ~new~ blooming conciousness...
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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 18, 2004 23:51:13 GMT -5
Poem: Less Than Three
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=Other&action=display&thread=1097559086
Less Than Three
...we are eyes
lashing.
They turn...
like leaves of crimson-
at the curvature and twist
of tongues that speak, in gold leaf.
They shrink, and shy-
from our breath's. last. utterance.
of fall.
I am-
harmfully endeared to you,
you hold silent, against my chest...
beating dull, in occourance.
.like wax paper. wrapped around christmas lights.
And maybe
This is the reason,
why hearts- have a cage.
Mocking the acidic days-
my hands will run the colors of the sky
like- gasoline rainbows
as you paint the insides of shells from my muddied hands...
And, so slowly-
we will whisper warm stories into their once empty homes-
barely standing long enough to run,
as the sun sank into them...like water- over stones.
We used to speak
without sound
like children shouting at tidal waves...
I held my face as the words spilled out
like black ribbons, in the sand
...and they shone. like stolen wishes- of a well.
When I collected the pieces of myself...
I didn't put them back together-
but let them jingle in my pocket,
.on the long. way. home.
But-
Tonight~
I saw a flash of something.
I spoke your essence into the sky,
irridecent lips parted in hopes to catch a breath...
as the tiny square of ashes, lit up my face-
and smoke rolled against the windowsill.
Thank you, for things you will never know...
and things- that havent happened yet.
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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 19, 2004 0:26:51 GMT -5
Poem: Redbirds
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=Other&action=display&thread=1096788419
Redbirds
Pale faced- He looked almost clown-like. Red tears fell from his eyes.
Every one, flittered away from him before hitting the ground-
even the redbirds wouldn't listen.
"Fly," He said- because he knew he never would.
A thousand redbirds filled the room. "You will be the death of me." He said, as he fell asleep- and decided never to wake.
Until one tiny redbird flew across his face, and kissed his eyes- and color came to his cheeks. He awoke- rubbing red dust from his eyes.
"You cannot save me," He frowned, as he waved the bird away. It hovered there for a second- once catching eyes with him. He looked down as it flew away- a tiny feather landing on the seam of his overcoat. He stared at it for a second, and put it in his breast-pocket.
"You will be my wings," He said.
And then-
He flew.
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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 19, 2004 0:27:16 GMT -5
Poem: Trees Have No Use for Wings
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=Other&action=display&thread=1096788357
Trees Have No Use for Wings
Fade toward the sky
If only I was.
These colored hands-
never leave anything...
But fingerprints.
They stain-
The coldness and perfection of your glass-
But still-
You shine.
And you say-
That you want me to see.
But you are so black- my eyes SO wide-
Yet still- I am blind.
I am but the grass-
below you.
Sweeping your fingers through my hair-
I but whisper back
But STILL- so silent.
Dying and becoming anew- from past lives, all the way to sky-
But never growing up to the clouds.
Never- even seeing them.
You sit on my branches with deepest condolence-
But, fly-
Little bird-
Trees have no use for wings.
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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 19, 2004 0:27:50 GMT -5
Poem: Electroskies
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=Other&action=display&thread=1096787788
Electroskies
Tired of staring into murky skies- give me some illimination.
I don't want to buy clarity anymore. I wonder if things will EVER be clear.
Because you can't
see
through
me.
Not inside-out, like anorexia.
You can't wade your fingers through me and not expect to leave an imprint. No- not ripples. You're not so easily forgotten.
Maybe im not so-like the ocean after all.
What do you know
We're made for eachother.
You still fly in the aura of your electroskies- While I-
stand behind in your wake...I miss you sometimes,
I will never know how to use your wings,
Even when you fly now-
without them.
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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 19, 2004 0:28:25 GMT -5
Poem: Night's Cloak
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=Other&action=display&thread=1096787721
Night's Cloak
"Open those EYES," you said...
They were never closed. Just- hidden.
YOU can't see the stars from my eyes-
because I hide them.
If.only.you.knew.
That I AM the night sky.
YOUR cloak. And you are SIMPLY the moon in it.
But- the moon, no less.
We are one-
separate-
whole.
A reflective being of my inner self.
It is STILL myself I see in your eyes.
I frown as you speak of the sun-
The object of your 'reflection'...
Love, what use does it give you
if only view of your destruction?
Lashes- soon- hidden.
No stars in sight.
Sweet Moon- if only I could shield your eyes.
But, then-
You would be like me-
and never
want
to
shine.
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Post by Aaron Graf on Oct 19, 2004 0:28:47 GMT -5
Poem: 'it is dangerous, to confuse children for angels.'
Username: strangeclouds
Link:http://liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=Other&action=display&thread=1096787664
'it is dangerous, to confuse children for angels.'
I sat in church once- listening to the boring sermon- mocking them- with my- matching black lace-up boots- and- "I am a goddess" tank top...Hands- so gracefully- adjusting my...'dangerously high' slitted, floor length black skirt...I'd stare at the floor- eyeing the multi-colored nylon that made-up the pale-blue carpet. Always clean- not even an abandoned clump of dirt from a farmer's workboot.
I never understood how the yellow nylon fit into the pink and blue mix without making it green...another one of God's unanswered questions, I guess...
I sighed, as my eyes adjusted closer, to the ends of my hair. 'Fucking split-ends,' I thought. Until, a tiny little girl appeared from behind the pew, and slid next to me. Her hair was blonde- pulled up from tiny stubborn curls that fell around her face- never surrendering to that big, white bow.
I could see her tiny white shoes- buckled, and shiny- each scrape carefully rubbed off before breakfast, imprisoning matching rumpled opaque pantyhose.
She played with her hands- carelessly atop layers of uncomfortable petticoats and spiteful white-patterned satin. Her dress overlapped me. I pulled away, letting the incredibly white material, compared to MY skirt- drift and fall to the seat. I wanted her to leave. I felt like I had already contaminated her. A blur from the sides of my cheeks, I saw her abruptly look up to stare into my eyes, hidden by my curtain of hair. Her eyes were blue, and- uncorrupted. And all I could think was- I wanted to BE there.
I couldn't help it- with black-chipped- outstretched fingernails, I reached out to touch her-
But then,
She ran away
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