PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

sometimes I think

the necklaces inside me

have written my story.

every word I will ever say

every handshake

every stranger.

in a snapshot of memories

he laughs at my lines.

my soul, written down in strands, screams

take me when you go.

I know somehow he will be a stranger again.

when I can’t sleep

the strands will blink a million eyes

a mental breakdown

(like all of them)

that can only be seen physically

on the inside.

when I am breathless

they can breathe for me

purer oxygen than I would

be able to ever flirt into my veins…

they have so much to say.

maybe that’s why I just watch.

when I can’t scream

the necklaces will come apart.

what a way to come undone.

Je vois le ciel noir, je vois Neptune.

Les planètes dansent, tourbillonnent !

Je vois les étoiles, je vois la lune.

La lumière du soleil qui résonne !

J'entends la mélodie des comètes ! 

Et le silence des trous noirs. 

J'entends le vide, sachansonnette ! 

L'univers danse au rythme des cauchemars.

Je suis dans ma chambre. J'ai froid. L'univers chante.

J'entends le requiem des étoiles mourantes !

Reliquat de somptueuses géantes

Je vois l'éternité dans ma voie lactée.

Je sens l'hypnose de sa spirale me gagner.

Je vois le vide. J'entends le noir

Je suis dans ma chambre, j'ai froid

L'univers chante pour moi.

Qui de la belle fleur ou de la rustre graine ?

Eclaira l'esprit d'un certain Darwin

Et comme un puissant coup que l'on assène 

Fit sortir le raisin de la vigne ?

Qui, de la méduse ou de l'hermine

Posséda en premier l'opsine

Découvrit les couleurs de l'arc en ciel

Et donna à la Terre son étincelle ?

Qui, de l'amibe ou des derniers hommes

Brûle la forêt, massacre l'oeuf encore chaud

Chasse l'hermine et inventa Dachau

Consume la planète, leur mère

Celle qui les a vu naître tendre

Et les verra disparaitre dans la cendre.

Dry your eyes the phoenix has risen

Science dictates and has given

Progress toward our perfect reality

Baby steps taken in actuality

It's hard work gethering the evidence

Setting the stage to measure the incidence

So we can rely on our knowledge base

To know for sure that's certainly the case

That i believe the solutions are there

Proclaiming it loud i have no care

So be patient folks it may be slow

But the truth on us it will bestow.

Poisons of breath simulate symmetrically,

as it detoxifies the infinity of darkness.

Mesh my lunar twin so that spontaneous combustion repels your light.

I can then wither its infinite particles to a dream;

provoking madness.

Its pull fires a wild intoxication,

masquerading the needed desire.

Make it a disaster so that all cannot see, hear nor feel the realities.

Let it burn its course through receptive endeavors whilst channeling fixated unknowns.

Let it be the villain.

Let it be what astral plane calls- love

He stares down at me with hundreds of blinking eyes

I stare back,

Mesmerized by the mysteries he holds dear

The damp blanket beneath welcomes me.

The green claimimg my fingers,

my toes

Begging me to remain

I see his eyes coming down on me,

Lifting me, 

Telling me he wants to show me,

Show me his secrets

He lifts me.

I meet with a blakened curtain,

His eyes have gone

I am alone,

alone in a pool of darkness

I hear his voice

A tiny whisper in my mind.

He tells me to come,

says he wants to show me

The black curtain follows wherever we go.

He tells me he has nine children

Nine who are so different.

He wants me to see

He says he has a favorite,

He says he is beautiful,

He says he has the bluest of eyes,

And skin like oatmeal

He says I have met him

I see the other eight

I am in awe 

I want to know their secrets

I reach out,

they are too far

The air feels funny,

My eyes feel heavy,

I open them and find the stars above,

My coat damp from the green carpet beneath,

My fingers buried in it

I realise then,

I HAVE met his favorite

Pretty sky

Full of lights

Wondering

What delights

Live out there...

Stuck down here

In my bubble

Best I got

Is the Hubble

Telescope...

Magic here

Magic there

Pondering why and where

Did it start...

Did it begin

Does it end

Who knows

Where or when

Life goes to...

We are all

Made from stars

Even dust

Even Mars

Natures way...

Science shows

Magic too

Even logic

Falters through

Explanation...

Science is magic.

Scenery made the people.

Magic is self-evident.

Understanding magic is another matter.

Another matter is my magic.

The People are the world.

I know what else is here and why/that you don't.

Nobody gets to disney except via me.

If you wanna goto heaven, you gotta go through wheel.

And I am the devil's magic.

Existance is proof.

The world is havingness of all the makings for a horror film plus a sessame street paint job.

I am Reality.

Hunter Reon Barnes, Magizian.net

Periodic Table: The Elements of You & Me©

Kyla Bingham (Written circa September-October 2011 – modified January 25, 2012)

You can call me helium cuz I rise above.

Iron shouldn’t float, but that’s exactly what I do cuz I’ve got a core of pure gold, and it’s overlaid with love.

Breathe that in, I’m oxygen, breathe so deep, you think your lungs’ll burst.

Now add two atoms of hydrogen, cuz I’m all you need to quench your thirst.

But you played fickle and jumped around on me like mercury daring to make my temperature rise.

So I was forced to bury you deeper than silver, I had you all the way at the earth’s core and still wasn’t done cutting you down to size.

What’s that? Now you’re crying—eyes looking like I threw chlorine in your face.

You messed with me and honestly, you woulda been better off eating arsenic—cuz I’m about to chew through you faster than a moth does old lace.

I coulda built you up strong like calcium

But you crossed me. So now I must crush you—leave you crumpled like aluminum.

Why’d you hafta go step outta line?

I didn’t wanna cut you this deep and leave you burning from being doused with this verbal iodine.

You’re faker than breasts of silicon,

Weaker than Superman on an IV of krypton.

You’re so all over the place; I think you best ask “doc” to up your dosage of lithium.

Lord knows I can’t deal with your erratic ways so we can’t go back and we have no future—not even if you had a Dolorian and plutonium.

People like you will never change; wouldn’t help if y’all were made of copper & nickel.

So it’s my job to slice you outta my life and cut you down with a decisive swing of my linguistic sickle.

After that, I freeze you ‘til it burns, like liquid nitrogen, then leave you teetering on the brink.

And just when you think you’re safe, I’ll shove you off the edge, watch you shatter, observe as you rot in the pit of despair until like sulfur you begin to stink.

Did you really think you could compete and outclass me? I’m a flawless, priceless diamond; that much is obvious by my sparkling wit.

Whereas you? You’re just cheap zirconium—purely counterfeit.

You’re a washed-up has-been, a dingy peon.

I’m a glowing marquis for all the world to see—flickering, flashing and lighting up the night like a sign of neon.

My mind is full, it’s a forged steel trap, and stronger than galvanized titanium.

You’ve got nothing of worth to share—it’s so hollow it echoes inside your cranium.

And if these words have been harsh, I can’t and won’t apologize—this is my manifesto of feelings and emotions—there’s simply no stopping or combatin'  ‘em.

Besides, why would I even want to fight it? Not when every utterance I make is unadulterated truth and my tongue’s drippings are liquid platinum.