PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The world is alive at midnight all basked in tender glow

I walk along the quiet road watching the fireflies play and unfold

The stars above glitter and shine while the rest of the world starts to unravel, unwind

I'm mystified by the silvery white beam surrounding me the moon and I embrace and dance the night away

I'm charmed at the night's symphony, here at midnight

midnight is magical and mysterious,

spellbinding to the lone stranger in this sphere.

Yin-yang and paradise

"First, he says, 

first and foremost,

the cub has it's roar, 

or did I mean Lion? 

He tells me, 

performs for me, 

the vivid imagery

of the courage and strength, 

trying to give unto another.

No script, no paper, 

off memory, his poetry

is in his heart, 

and apart from my written word, 

wow, can i perforn like

the one singing bump and grind? 

Well, I most definitely have 

not the voice. 

But, 

the artist has instead

his art in his soul, 

and no pen or pad

or book in hand, man, 

this man has it. 

So does She

giving me sweet epiphany, 

alliteration and onomatopoeia, 

hyperbole, dreams of red velvet, 

a memory of perhaps

succulent treat, 

and after a beat, 

another artist approaches,

such powerful words. 

All of them, 

potential no longer blocked, 

mind unlocked,

her voice giving me thoughts. 

I am home, 

I am surrounded by poets, 

artists, lovers, dreamers, 

those who have suffered

more than I, 

hearing some of the pleas. 

It would indeed be

enriching, more imbued positivity. 

And perhaps comical

as I watch one poet

almost run over another

on trip to couch.

I grin, laughed, 

laughed more when asked

to rurn to page 24. 

Hands, the color red, 

subjects being poured about

by all these great writers. 

Such emotion, 

they read,

I listen.

Tonight isn't about me, 

this is about them, 

and I am humbled again. 

Tonight is about you,

and you, and all of you 

who pour their soul, 

so vulnerable. 

Lessons, being preached to me, 

wise words, being brushed 

across my canvas,

their paint so vibrant.

Their pain so real, 

like my own. 

What I strive to do, 

being done unto me. 

They want to write, 

they make me want to 

write, right now. 

Never stop writing, 

requesting got returned keys, 

being alive. 

Poetry has kept me alive. 

You, artists, breathe into me...

life."

I’m alone, I’m surrounded

This is the part of night

where nothing makes sense

but the sky still stretches as far as I can reach

The world’s a graveyard

as we take to our nocturnal coffins

and pass our souls

to the other side of the world

where the light is just coming in

The ground is frozen solid,

flakes of pure ice

but my brain is burning hot as hell

without even thinking or speaking

or loving this stillness while it lasts

All the things I don’t want to think

without cover of stars

press their way through my numb fingers

and after a few hours make me think maybe

all these things I don’t want to think

are just knots I need to breathe and untangle

under the blanket of darkness

The world’s a graveyard

as the quick slips of

brushing against stone and shrubs

wake up all the faces I’ve ever seen

I’m alone, I’m surrounded

This is the part of night

where the stars are just as brilliant as chaos

and the lost have always found themselves a home.

When the night is over

all the magic is gone

even though I still feel your hands grasp my wrist and

my head echoes back everything you said to me

I know I can’t get it back

The stars pull away the twilight and

hold me captive for a few hours

But even though in daylight

we still walk side by side,

the sun pulls us apart

And even in another night

it won’t be the same, we won’t be

in this place with this chemistry

Because every minute of the night

we collide faster and longer

and I keep wanting to pull you closer to me when the sun rises

but I can’t, I know I can’t.

it’s 2am
and I’m sitting on a barstool
pledging insomnia
from days that really try the soul

you’ve made me a night owl,
no,
you’ve made me a vulture,
sucking the life out of my own body

now I drag myself around
kicking paint cans so I don’t recognize my heart

because bleeding at night is easier
than bleeding in the sunlight,
so now it’s 2am
and I’m sitting on a barstool
while the whole world’s asleep
pretending to be not thinking about you.

She stepped out into the night

From out of the Nightmare came a cry

The creature's somber humming ever so quiet

luring the unsuspecting into a frenzy

She is all that stands between

a world of ire and a world of light

The shadows writhe in horror;

their ghastly creation a pale abhorrence

She was to be their Chosen One

A warrior angled to live more

than just a hollow existence

The souls were as bright as the stars

But unearthly blood stained the

tips of her hair, her sword, and her solace

Drop by drop it tinged the ground

The beastly burden of loss

The last chance to take a final breath

And all of it- gone.

No second chance.

However, the silence hungers and from

the fires she wakes

She steps out onto the plains

A blizzard creeps down her spine

The Demon Ruins she must bide

One last stop to sharpen the blade

Fill up the flask and check her Faith

The fool she may be

But bathed in blood, a kingdom undone

She will walk the unknown, let her story unfold

To find the truth

To end the curse

...of Winter Blood

I instantly remember
The time you held my hand,
The time you kept me warm.

The first time I felt alive,
Was because of you.
Strong feelings and emotions
Attract our bodies.

I wonder will we go back
To the night you made me like you again.
No promises, no assumptions.
I hope to see you again.

"Where so many rush to fall asleep,

I tend to creep,

afraid of the a lack of light, 

what's in store for tonight. 

Would you like to know why?

I'm afraid of what's inside,

what I always seem to need,

what sleeps within me.

When the darkness falls

and my mind succumbs to sweet slumber,

lumbering in comes the pattering of feet,

clawed, and I can't seem to scream.

I try to get out from underneath the covers,

to run away, but I am stayed 

by the sudden jacket, holding arms back,

while at my heels chases the maniac. 

It is the ghoul, it's in my room,

and now theres nothing but abyss,

amiss of clothes and shoe and tooth

as I run to only bring closer nothingness.

And now I am within reach, looking back

at the black teeth, to tear my wide and tall,

before tripping onto face,

no hands to break the fall. 

And looking to what had cause the trip,

innocent children, empty faces,

look into me, through me, and it hurts,

it burns, no clue why they are in my plight.

And now taking flight, they chase me too,

I am running to a single point,

straight jacket still applied,

my escape impossible, my voice mute. 

Again, so focued to the rear,

I forget about the front, 

looking ahead to see now in front of me

the biggest snake ever slithers on scene. 

The snake grows bigger, stopping,

rearing its head, baring its fangs,

it wraps me in it's tail,

and squeezes me tight.

I can't stand the grip, crying out,

but no sound comes, 

just the sound of my eyes popping out,

and the sound of the plop.

The drop of me, hitting the carpet,

falling onto the floor, blanket wrapped around me,

back in my room, not monsters,

no snake no ghoul.

Just the sweat drenched shirt,

the paper-dry throat,

rattled, another night lost

to the internal battle. Nightmares reign."