I am finally alone and in my head. Like looking around a room with familiar walls but unfamiliar furnishings. I do not know these thoughts. This is my space, I should feel at home instead of a lost voyager drowning in a sea of unspoken creativity.
It is a stuffy place to be, with no mirrors to show reflections of me, no windows to let in what I need to breathe. How can this be? Who took an ax to the root(s) of my tree—I had named her Life and Longevity.
I want to tell you world, that I turned 32 today, but no leaves of reflection can fall, this breeze sneaking through my window, tickling my toes, melodies cascading through my headphones—yeah I am 32 today, and for the first time in quite a while I am in my dome, reshuffling, reclaiming it as my own.
Tag: Poetry
Break
In the midnight rain
Fast feet stepped and
Stomped—busy perfection
To blue notes.
Wind whipping through
Raggedy coats,
Wet hair clasped
Around bare throats.
Dancing feet reacquainted
With the concrete
Under a tearful sky
Sharing her sorrow
But only at midnight.
–SpkN
Off Centered
Off the dome I go, mind ready to roam Down winding roads in Rome. I cannot sleep, wide eyed Waiting for the annoying 3:45 beep Ideas invested in interesting Endeavours … Continue reading Off Centered
Beautiful Belongings
Similes are pretty things-
flowers on a window sill of
a decrepit apartment building.
Metaphors move with violent
passion-
like a boxer dancing
in the ring.
Blue is cliché but
every color is pink.
Commas are the yellow
lights of literature
a semicolon’s shape
is a red-white
octagon.
Like butter on toast,
we belong together.
-SpKn
Contact
The touch, the feel of
your bare brown skin
against my rugged texturin’
lights a fire deep within.
From my soul comes fantastical
fiery images full of
pure passion and heart pounding
action as I taste you
and you taste me.
You are my forever fantasy.
Tantalizing seduction glistens
in your eyes.
At first contact we
can make love and let
our hearts surmise
the depths of the
surprise as our panting
turns to sights.
-SpKn
Noise
Soliloquies spoken in silent spaces mean
little until courage is gathered and uttered
upon the ears of unsuspecting faces.
Mindless mental chatter; words not spoken
taste of age apprehension–and thus hearts are broken.
Ferocious words offering opposition plant seeds of fear-
These soliloquies are meant for the world to hear.
-SpKn
