[x]

We Are Writers.What good are my words,
Among thousands of lines,
Through time and space,
Nothing different, nothing new.
In so few years ill be forgotten to all
Lost in the carnage
A casualty of time,
My words washed up and thrown away,
To be rehashed by people going nowhere,
Just like me.
We're no different, we're timeless
We transcend all history,
We're our own story,
Written time and time again,
Changing with the generations,
Standing apart from the marching lines,
That go so quickly to destruction.
We are writers, that is so,
But do we change our world with our words,
A stanza at a time?
Or will our hearts fears and loves
Of written

Gift of RainSmall liquid blessings
descend an aerial sea
to kiss earth below.

d e p r e s s i o nMy shadow is conspiring against me.
Won't you help me hide?
It used to be nice...but it's trying to hurt me again.
The stronger the sunlight, the greater intensity of happiness...
The darker it becomes; the more noticeable.
I can't run away.
It follows me everywhere.
Can't you help me hide?
It's with me from the moment the sun rises, until darkness falls again.
Sweet, merciful darkness...my shadow can't find me in the dark.
It leaves, just long enough to let me dream,
but when morning comes,
it's there when I open my eyes...
reminding me that the dreams weren't real.
Please, help me hide?
I can often loose it for a little while;
Laugh at a joke, smile at a song...
But it finds me again,
And proceeds to turn my emotional volume nob down,
Until I can barely hear my own happiness.
It's hard for people to tell.
I'm a fantastic actress.
You used to be the one thing that my shadow was afraid of...
It's brave, now... it's not scared of you anymore.
Please, can yo

The Blaze To End My DaysSo hot,
So smoldering,
Sweat running down my neck,
Harder to breath, smoke burning my eyes,
I can hardly see, the heat so intense,
I know I won't live much longer,
There's no way I can make it out of this fire alive,
Death is near,
and I feel it nearing,
Second by second,
Breath by breath,
This blaze will be the blaze,
To take my life away.

SailingI'm hearing, you're hearing,
the words of all-knowing spirits
telling us to find sanctuary in bliss
far from this confusing labyrinth.
My dear, we have to strain our ears
our human senses, feeble as they be.
But let us listen all the same.

How exhilarating for us to listen
to this siren call, long-forgotten song
telling us of ancient pleasures
peace, harmony, joy and love.

Sail with me. Sail.

We can do it, can't we? Run, sail.
We have our spider-silk wings for that.
We can ask the wind to take us
wherever it wants us to go.

Let our emotions spread like birds' limbs
our open sails on marrow masts
let them lead us on crimson s

Depthin reality,
we are not alone

the realization envelops you
like a cold sheet

and you are dragged to sea
a frozen atlantic wasteland

that swallows your loneliness
whole with the tide

the museher moonbeam hair
falls around me
threading fingers
limbs,
suture-grip
on my hand—
and she,
medusachild,
forsaken by athena,
leftover
after the harrowing
—she’s all
tempered steel
and armored glances.
want to hold her,
break through
the thin sultry
barriers,
always tempting
and—
she bleeds
perfection
[blind to her
insides].
she brings out
the poet in
me:
stringing words
together
with her low
alto voice,
slipping on her
thoughts.
i want to be
there
the day she
says too much
and overdoses
on metaphysical
philosophy.
and she and i
oh, she and
i—; yes, i
will bring reality
tumbling
down with
a

The RecluseWhen dark storm clouds coat young maid's head,
She walks, with gloomy, lifeless tread.

Her eyes downcast, her fingers quake,
She dares the world to call her fake.

Her aura grey and mouth down-turned,
return to days of youth, she yearns.

Into herself, her form retreats
though her feet tread on well-worn streets.

To worlds of light and glitt'ring streams,
She hides herself in realms of dreams.

The Origin of Authentic Love LettersYou told me
as you sat at my grave
that you would never forget the day
that my last love letter jumped out of your hand
and ran away.
You were reading it in the streets of August
as an angry wind rushed by
and tore the paper out of your hand
and it had animated itself,
tumbled down the street
by the tips of its aged corners,
cartwheeling passionately away
from you.
You told me you chased after it
until the end of the street
when God decided to suck it up
into the blanket of the skies
forever.

You wrote a new one,
you told me
but it would never be the same
as the original.

Crimson Boulevard!Crimson boulevard creates illusion
Bathed in blood red light
Aberration of short duration
Fleeting moment, throw-up sight.

Be assured you will find trouble
Surrounded by creatures of night
Cold skin crawls, mouth runs dry
Crimson boulevard a place to die.

Vampires rampant with fangs so white
Dangerous looking, heartless bite
Shadows and phantoms stalk the moon
Morning for them will come too soon

Slowly awake, half remembered dream
Glorious sunrise through window streams
Aberrations fade into wall
Disappointed to find no bite at all.

2012 Delice1941
5th July2012

Bless the AngelsClouded with the swelling light
Of breaking summer dawn,
The sky is barely peeking
Through the early morning yawn.

Gladdened heights of tinted smoke
Lounge above the glade,
Watching idly all the ones
Who hum a hymn today.

The bells of silver and of brass--
They chime a tuneless song.
Reaching to the yielding fields
And calling home the throng.

There they go with books in hand
To slip through mighty doors.
They scurry over cobblestones
Like ev'ry week before.

They kneel and ask a blessing
From the patron of the day.
Then ask to be forgiven
For their callow, wicked way.

The preacher gives the sermon--
Sad and yet sublime.
But through the

Mermaid Serenademermaids serenade humans,
and use them as their slaves,
drowning them in the ocean,
their cries carried by the waves.

UnfoundedI cram words within murky, hollow spaces,
replicating ways in which blood fills a wound.

I squeeze articles and adjectives—
supporting metaphors and similes—
into tight-fitting corners,
until that which is empty begins to bloat.

The ache of something missing,
the loss of one internal, now painfully unknown:
it finds no satisfaction within passion
and phrases so desperately created, upheld.

Why give transparent, misleading hope…
Does pleasure derive from humiliation—
the catalyzing of previously weakened hearts?
Where is the limit of cruelty defined,
if not in the cries and weeping of dreams:

Language wilts

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.

TrustTrust.

Hard to gain.
But easily lost.

The effects will always remain.
Unless we pay the cost.

Instead of abiding by t

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The End'Did I serve well?',
said my tender voice,
as the world shifted and swayed.
His serene smile
obscured my view
as the pillars of the world decayed.
'Let's go home',
He gave His hand
as the earth ignited in flame,
and led me away
from this earth
who's end had finally came.
If I were to describe
the end of the earth
I don't know
what I would say.
For His gentle hands
and compassionate smile
was all I could see
that day

Voodoo DollI am a doll,
not meant for love,
pierced through in vengeful scorn.
Built from moss,
sticks and thread,
I make victim of those abhorred.

So pierce me through,
with your blood-black pin.
Through my heart,
my stomach, my mind.
Your hateful fire is what I know,
but your love I will never find.

My TestimonyThis is something I wrote to indicate how I felt 6 years ago. I wasn't a very happy person and life didn't have any pleasure for me at all. I wasn't depressed, I just didn't see the point in life - you're born, you grow up, you have children and then you die - Whoopidoo. It just seemed a bit futile to me I guess, having no real purpose and having a meaningless existence. I wanted to really live a meaningful life and it didn't matter to me if I became the most successful and richest person in the world - that still wouldn't give me meaning, that still wouldn't satisfy me.

So I wasn't happy. And then my mom decided she wanted us all to start

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Submitted: October 2, 2012
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Lavender

by ~saykha, Oct 2, 2012, 4:36:02 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Haiku & Eastern

Fields of lavender
slow dancing with the west wind
What a peaceful sight

Lavenderby ~saykha

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Haiku & Eastern

There's nothing more relaxing than the image of a lavender field, peacefully swaying to and fro in the wind. The thought of such a scene was so nice, I decided to wright a Haiku about it

I hope you like it.

love 1 1

joy 1 1

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~tommyboywood May 10, 2013 Professional Writer

beautiful haiku - even better with a a lavender field preview pic!

*fotomademoiselle Jan 7, 2013 Student Photographer

Lovely.

~birduncaged Dec 7, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I actually felt quite calm reading it

Nice

*Mabogunje Oct 26, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

This caught my attention when I stopped by your page. It was a moment of peace. An instant serenity. Quite well done in its simplicity.

~ShiningSteel Oct 19, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

The visuals I get in my head in this are amazing. This is one of the best haiku I ever read!

~saykha Oct 22, 2012 Student Writer

Thank you so much

That really means a lot to me.

*moyanII Oct 15, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

the scenario is apparently peaceful by the description of lavender field alone. so the last line can be replaced by more information, i.e. a juxtaposition of another image for comparison and to deepen the meaning of the haiku.

btw, you might also like to check out some of the resources on haiku listed on the first page of #the-haiku-club. The 5-7-5 syllables restriction is mainly for haiku written in japanese, there are more to this form of poetry when you choose to convey this form in english.
for a starter you might like to read this article to know the original form and intention of haiku:
[link]

~saykha Oct 15, 2012 Student Writer

Oh thank you - I'll have a look at these

Thank you for your help

~BelaRoseWolf Oct 9, 2012 Student Writer

This is maybe even a little too peaceful... Hm... Great work, though!

~starell Oct 8, 2012

how such simplicity can evoke such majesty.

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