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Forgiveness,Martin Luther King, Jr. dreams
don’t exist no more,
and I can’t compete with
Ginsberg’s howling—
my words clatter like broken
plates, and my dreams:

They are the world collapsing
into a maze of broken homes;
stark white horizon and billowing
smoke; pedophiles in elementary
schools; and looking back, a blend
of hope and nowhere to run:

As a child: I whispered, home
but the keys were lost and we
waited in the cold until our fingers
turned a bloody, frozen red.
Dad came home from work—
angry, angry like our fingers,
and it was gone.

He told us he was sorry;
he didn’t do a good job.
It’s okay, it&rsqu
some idioms- part i of iilet sleeping dogs lie
said my best friend
while every cell
in my body
shuddered in stupor
wanting nothing more than
to forgive him again
after having gone
a good quarter-year
without him already

when it rains it pours
said my little sister
as i held her hand
bawling in stupor
after watching him
hold her hand
as she gets out
of his car to
lead her unto
his apartment door

between a rock and a hard place
i will say to myself
after realizing that
i had gotten into
this new relationship
simply out of spite
& that it would be
evil of me
to lead him on when
i can't ever belong
A Coward Angel“Go”, this is what they told you and you turned your back and left. I remember I saw you from the window; it was a summer evening, around eight o’clock when the orange of the sun had painted the sky. That orange light lay on your face. I still remember your expression. Pain, pride, and disappointment. I still remember… I’ve never been an expert on those things, these are complicated things, I don’t interfere, but that rejection hurt. Something you said, something they said; this is how these things happen. One word brings another and you end up hating yourself. But I think you didn’t. You took your t
Four SinnersSt Peter rapped smartly on the door to the chambers of the Lord, before pushing them open to see the homely white room beyond. The Lord stood up from his seat at the desk and welcomed the saint with open arms, a loving smile on his lips.

“Peter,” he said, his voice soft and deep, like a father’s to a toddler, “how is it I may help you today?”

“My Lord, I know it is unorthodox, but a group of murderers have requested your presence at their judging.” Peter replied, “Each claims to have an injury which excuses their sins.”

The Lord considered this, then nodded solemnly, walking slowly out
An Ode to The PhantomThere is a boat on a lake,
Burning candles on a cold black mirror.
And this journey I will take,
To find the man that I’ve been looking for.

I’ll find him I swear,
Chase him into the blackest night,
I’ll find his lonely lair.
And dry the tears from behind his mask.

What will lurk behind?
Some haunted face or tender spirit.
I shall say words truly kind,
And try to put his broken soul together.

Across the keys his fingers dance,
Enchanting beauty and bewitching senses.
I am lost within a trance,
And I know I’ll be forever his.

Away from judgement and from light,
We will spend the years together.
And I&r
Haiku Ika-Unom
the morning mist fades
a golden sun revealed
her eyes kept westward
vietnam."i mean
this was my childhood -
watching the nightly news
watching the cities burn"
Shattered SymphonyBefore the ice crept into your veins and settled,
Before the cracks in your heart were petrified,
Was there something other than ancient dust?
Hiding in the hollow echo of disused synapses,
Where nerves once sparked into singing chords
Rattled down time taut strings of frozen organs,
Buzzed through the vena cava and battered valves,
To swell lungs full with gasping, desperate breaths
While drum beats thundered, and the tempo jumped,
Crescendos of flustered words and twisted tongue,
Chasing the sun drenched notes from honeyed lips
To pin them down, caught upon a pulsing manuscript.

If there was once something more than what is now,
A Beginning Worth StartingI'm waiting for a beginning worth starting,
A first chapter with an undeniable hook!
To pull you between the lines
And drag you deeper into ink than words.
My winding, weaving plotline path,
Whose story holds the darkest villains.
For heroes are dull as dust compared,
To the creeping, grasping gasp
Of a good baddie's evil laugh.
And a scheme that tricks even the best,
The quickest witted reader's mind
Who believes they've solved the mystery
Only to find the ground has dropped,
And they stand over open darkness
Where answered questions have lay it wait!
Yes, that's the 'begin' I want to hear,
To read and live and jump into!
Wi
Lady LustThey sat together at a table set for nine
Just him and her, then seven empty seats
To wait for guests who failed to show
Even when the clocks struck twelve
Chimes to shatter moonlight with their blows.

"Should we not wait for them to come?
His question stretched through the room
And crossed their silence sat between
Their two chairs at opposite ends
So her face and features remained unseen.

"But they are here can you not see?"
She asked with faint amusement
As his eyes searched the empty space
And found only what had been
Leaving him to wonder what was meant.

"No one sits here but for us my dear
Apart from dust there is just a
The Eyes of a DragonCan you see it through her eyes,
Those distant fading memories
In vast and endless skies
Where horizons could not be set?

And can you find time before beginning,
A prequel to Adam and Eve?
Or the apes who stood to men,
And walked with swords upon two feet.

Discover hidden beneath time dulled scales
Where there's fires from ancient years,
Which burnt before the strike of flint
And paled only in others through fear.

Her claws once curled tightest grip
Alongside bated and excited breath,
As perched on the dizzying precipice
She held no fear of what she could drop.

She'd leap from cliffs where none would follow,
To unfurl her sta
Thank YouI wanted to take a moment
And say thank you
For reading all my writing
No matter how much I send you
Or how scrappy the words
Because we both know
I hate to proof
And my spelling...
Well let's not mention that
But I will say
All about
How wonderful!
How fantastic!
How great it is
To have someone to read
The pieces I hate
And chew my nails over
Because they don't match
To the old stuff
The other stuff
The stuff that I've written
That I've liked!
It makes it easier
Easier to writer when I know
That there is someone who reads
Who favs the pieces
The pieces I wrote
Because you everything I send
You read
And then you
My LadyA diamond noose stole the breath from her chest,
Where ribs caved beneath creaking whalebone corsets
And her hands lay useless against the curve of her waist.
An hourglass standing with each grain assigned,
A time and a place, a husband, no thought for her mind.
To be instructed and moulded into icy precision
Because in her heart the royal blue ran in vain
And her prison was forged before birth by name.

Fairy tales make pretty the twists of her life
As she's wound into tapestries, the good, obedient wife.

Let those who weave take for granted stillness in her lips
And forget to check the eyes which dip from sight,
For those who's
SmileIt might as well be blind eyes behind lenses,
For all the miracles of airbrush, Photoshop,
Have left us with no true concept of beauty,
Just clouded retinas and fun house mirrors.
Corpses walk our catwalks, posing as mannequins,
But even the inanimate have more life than bones.
I could count the ribs around struggling hearts,
And snap brittle, twig arms in desperation,
Plead for them to listen, and see their own destruction.
Because their beauty is lost in flesh decay,
Until only specters haunt each fashion house.
What hope is held for those who us counted mundane,
If models are counted sub-par, below,
And to be stunning lose t
In the FutureI've been passed an empty sheet of paper,
And on it I'm expected to write my-
Dreams?
Why did you pick that topic?
Because my dreams are disjointed and random,
They don't have any cohesion or order!
It would be like bursting open the ink cartridge
And creating a blue splattered stain!
To me it would make sense,
And I would be able to name, explain each droplet,
But you would be lost between streaks
And drowned in the puddles not yet dried,
Because my dreams spiral through closed eyes,
And inhabit the darkness of night and sleep,
Where confusion is acceptable and expected.

Oh!
You wanted me to write down my ambitions!
Now you
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More from *parchmentgirl

My LadyA diamond noose stole the breath from her chest,
Where ribs caved beneath creaking whalebone corsets
And her hands lay useless against the curve of her waist.
An hourglass standing with each grain assigned,
A time and a place, a husband, no thought for her mind.
To be instructed and moulded into icy precision
Because in her heart the royal blue ran in vain
And her prison was forged before birth by name.

Fairy tales make pretty the twists of her life
As she's wound into tapestries, the good, obedient wife.

Let those who weave take for granted stillness in her lips
And forget to check the eyes which dip from sight,
For those who's
Dear MindDear Mind

If it wouldn't be too much of a bother, could you let me sleep tonight? You see, the ideas that you're throwing my way are not all that bad, (as long as we take out the one where you suggested that I write 7 sonnets, one for each of Henry VIII's wives.) The only problem is that I can't seem to remember anything you mentioned the night before, when morning finally pulls itself around, and my bed is suddenly so much more comfortable than five hours before.

I could write the ideas down as soon as you've thrown them my way I suppose. Except my bed side lamp has broken, and my hand is too tired to lift the pen. SEE! That should have be
A Best Friend's Mess"Here." I said, throwing the dustpan and brush in my friend's general direction. She caught them with a stunned expression, holding them away from her as if they had somehow turned into a poisonous snake that was threatening to bite her.

"What am I supposed to do with these?" she asked, looking at me with that face. Clearly she thought I'd lost it again. I say again, I don't mean to sound like I 'lose it' often! I'm just a little eccentric, not insane, just eccentric. However, my personality is a completely different explanation for a completely different story and not one I will ever take the time to go into. So back to the dustpan and brus
The Devil's SonnetBleed your heart to cast my ink
Then sign upon the flesh and skin
For madness hangs upon the brink
Where you drown in poisoned sin.
And eyes I stole from lovers' sights
shall deem with only me to kiss and lie
Reclaim on those stolen lusty nights
When letters bind the name and tie.
Can you catch the devil's tongue?
It's twisted within your own
And can you claim this deed so wrong
When all hope of redemption had flown?
Think with thoughts as black as coal
To match the state of your sold soul.
The SkullShe'll speak to the dead with her head on one side,
Punctuate conversations with the roll of her eyes,
For jokes loose their bite once the dust takes my teeth
And laughter is dry without a tongue or lips and speech.

Watch the cracks for my mind and I have long fell out,
We were in for a while but overdue another bout
Any apologies would be useless in this little war
The maggots will mean the argument is lost for sure.

Once the stone grows too cold she will bore of my grin
But don't put my skull back where I lie straight and thin
Up here is a sun to bleach the old bones white
And a silver sheen smile beneath the evening starlight

M

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Put pen to paper, and write!

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December 2, 2012
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Make Me Mistress of Lies and Goddess of Chaos

:iconparchmentgirl:

My brightly burning ice giant; god of fire,
My silver tongued lie-smith with weighted whispers—
Will you still love me on Ragnarök's byre?
When your children wage war on their elders?

For the nine realms will be nothing but chaos,
And each will sit back to watch the destruction
For none shall be able to forestall this loss,
Or find another world to which they can run.

If you say yes; that you will adore me yet…
Should I trust those lips which kiss me sweetly?
That weave such beautiful tricks, traps and nets
To trip and catch the Æsir and their army.

Tell me, if it should be my breath leaves first,
Should you take another into our bed?
Or should you deem this world to be accursed,
And wait for the fates to cut immortal thread.
:iconparchmentgirl:
The Canzone

Submission for DFC 2012 - 2nd December


The last line of this links in more with Greek mythology than Norse, but I like the idea and it seemed to work within the poem.
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:iconfrostbyter:
Critique by ~Frostbyter Dec 2, 2012, 1:45:16 PM
...It's beautiful dearie... Truly beautiful!

I like that you incorporated various terms from the Norse and its mythologies... it shows you did your research... which is very important in pieces like this...

I also enjoy the way you make it clear who the subject is... without calling the much beloved trickster by name... takes a bit of talent/work to do that dearie!

And finally it's lovely how she isn't blissfully ignorant of the fact that his deceitful ways might turn on her... it is most refreshing!

Good luck with the whole DFC thing... and keep up the good work dearie!
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:iconbrokentales:
~BrokenTales Feb 25, 2013   Writer
Congratulations! :happybounce: You've been featured in our Weekly Round-up! :clap:

Thank you for sharing with the group!

:iconwritersink:
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:iconparchmentgirl:
*parchmentgirl Feb 25, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you!
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:icondenvitanarren:
~DenVitaNarren Dec 4, 2012
You truly have an outstanding descriptive language: capturing! Awe is the first word that comes to mind when I try to describe what I felt when reading this poem. :)

And I think the last line works for Norse mythology as well. :)
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:iconparchmentgirl:
*parchmentgirl Dec 4, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you very much for the praise, and thank you also for the watch. It is so nice to see my work being well received. :)
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:icondenvitanarren:
~DenVitaNarren Dec 4, 2012
Thank you for writing such wonderful work. :)
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