[x]

AstrologicalI have lost myself to
Venus & Mars,
tangled in their mismatched limbs.

Just dream dust & shattered prayers
begging for a new set of skin
(she can't remember where she orbits).

Pluck these fractured wings;
the Sun & Moon no longer ache
to see me fly in their luster.

lies, she wrotei. just a mimicry, really;
uncompromisingly
desperate to shine.

ii. counterfeit & clockwise,
tasting words on her
unworthy tongue.

iii. with a dysfunctional mind
& apocryphal dictionary,
she cannot clone it all.

iv. "say anything," the pen
whispers as she trembles
among ink-scented fraudulence.

v. but she just laughs & plays the part,
forgetting what the pages told her:
"truth is stranger than fiction."

The Pen, The SwordJust lovely
I was happy to fall asleep
in the welcoming arms of your words and
you were unaware that you held me
so close, and so carefully
from the moment I didn't hear you speak
to the taste of every sentence you spoke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been seeking all along
Just barely
I was loathe to fall so deep
in the sharpened edges of your words and
you were too aware that you had me
so close, and so carelessly
from the second I heard you break
to the taste of every sentence you broke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been avoiding all along

Death of the PoetDear poetry,
This is your challenge,
my eternal chore,
to restate the truth
like never before-
but I’m imperfect
at my very core
and hypocrisy
is what I abhor
so you may expect
my work to be poor
enough for me to
be crushed into gore
with failed attempts
to take wing and soar
when all I wanted
was something much more
than emptiness and
inherited war
and pointless details
of imagined lore
which most of us tend
to simply ignore
at the piercing sound
of a lion’s roar
or the convenience
of a nearby store…
what am I truly
writing these words for?
Let’s merely pretend
that this isn’t me
but the voice of God
or L. Ron Hubbard
or whoever you
wish for it to be
since facts remain facts
no matter the source,
no matter the cause,
since the trustworthy
are also humans
prone to failure;
so prone to a fault
that we hold dearly-
the sum of our faith
measured in dollars-
rewarded by credit
and paper money…
for some odd reason
I find this funny!
So I conclude

False EternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.
Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!
Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for the moon
then sought the horizon, again and again warned my father that doom
would befall him if he didn't seek a better way to live and be
I wasn't willing to follow the dark and deadly rules,
trying to bring some light into the lives of these fools.
Guilds of anti-gods were formed, wars rose higher, nothing to atone!
They all represen

ArrheniusThe birds are
keeping to themselves
this evening
as the earth shifts
slightly-
ever so calmly
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have
to move).

Here and there, I
witness these
beautiful strangers
with perfect bodies
and long hair
walking down the road
in tightly knitted packs.
They are animals
like we are animals-
like we are
animals without
claws and fur,
with scratches on our
skin that yields to
fragile and
familiar hands.

The winds respond
as quiet birds rush
from telephone wires
in panic and
in beauty; she
tries to brush the hair
dancing circles in her eyes
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have to move).

False ProphetsPoems and love songs breed dead dreams,
strangled by weeds, face down in the ground
with no roses to mourn them.

Singers are poets that croon
(if you happen to lose your little heart to their tune)
and poets are false prophets -
true love will last forever
if they care to write it,
but not if you swallow the lines...

yet, they always do.

We all have a place
set for us in the shade
in our own private garden of weeds.

False eternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant of the fact that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.

Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!

Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for

Psychotic ramblingsI, in the eternal void rest,
Am the unwanted thirteenth guest,
Insane, deranged and psychotic,
There are people who even call me sick.

Isn't it joyful and greedy to demand
A sacrifice of strangulation at the reach of the hand?
Cure the poisoned in a prison built of mental sand.

Murder is the solution brought by the resolution.
Is this the final, one and only conclusion?
Better think again, there will be no retribution.

Death is not the liberation, just the beginning.
Is there eternal peace? The solution is sinning.
Unacceptable lies become the truth, the chaos keeps spinning.

VoicesDo you hear the moan of morning rhymes
By the people in their endless time
As the morning dew breaks the day
Back to where the city-lights once laid

The lamp-posts are filled with black starlight
As the children run in their flight
With cries of sorrow, cries of pain
The old houses creaking with disdain

Acidic puddles of blood-wet tears
Remain on the street through all these years
As the cracks have hid the crumbled dust
Within these roads of bone and rust

The melody of the birds is lost
To the screeches and screaming loss
There are people cowering in the dark
Murmuring, whispering their tortured remarks

Flames ignite the world in fire

Lovers and assassinsNight
walk

WakefulI remain awake with dreams on my mind
and stories that wait to be knit into books.
To never find comfort until my pillows are
stuffed with thoughts instead of feathers
To never let go until I made sure that
the moon smiled back at me
Until the trees, the grass, and every night creature
has whispered good night...
And yet I'm still as wakeful as an owl
afraid that sleep would somehow
grab my neck and drag me to my grave.

bad nightmy mistakes are on my head,
and the cigarettes taste like metal;
on the street curb of a suburban block,
the lights jaundiced and flickering
like drunken fireflies, your reflection
that emanates from me covers every face.

HumanDear Hypocrite,

What do you do?
Throwing insults when you're insulted.

Dear Coward,

Where went you?
To your "peaceful" sanctuary you have bolted.

Dear Liar,

What say you?
Your poison corrupts innocent ears.

Dear Human,

What are you?
A sinner trapped in endless tears.

Watercolor PainWhen you smile,
I turn colorblind.

It turns into a somersault
whenever I gain contact
with your skin,
bare back touching
bare back.

But I'm not hungry
for bedposts.

I just want to
savor each moment your arms
lock into mine,
the romanticism of
the moons in my eyes
and the skies in your words.

There's smoke
behind all those hues
of hazel and your fingers
are porcelain,
but I still love you.

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More from ~PrincessBlackRose

Broadway DreamsMy future career
Lays in Manhattan
On a stage where all the great plays are shown.
From Grease To Wicked, and Phantom,and The Little Mermaid, too.
I will be in all of them.
Me and my Broadway dreams.
I will dance every step,
And make it perfection.
Ballet, modern,
I'll even sing my own songs!
From Sandy to Rizzo,
Ariel and Christine,
I'll be there...
Someday...
Me and my Broadway dreams.
See ya there!

My ReasonHe is everything to me.
       Everything and more.
He's more than a friend,
More than a boyfriend,
More than a lover,
   More than a shoulder to cry on,
     More than a heart beating steadily next to mine,
      More than protection,
      More than a inspiration,

No...he is more than that...
                                He is a r

The Point of No ReturnEverything is so strange,
Here,
At the point of no return.
There's no looking back
Or wondering.
Not any more.
At the point of no return.
Somehow I've fallen under this spell-
And somehow I'm feeling,
It's up that I fell!
But was I really seeking good,
Or just seeking...attention?
Well it's too late now.
Well-
I hope your happy.
The final question:
Did I really mean anything to you,
And will you mourn for me when I'm gone?
Oh well...
As Erik says:
The bridge is crossed, so stand, and watch it burn...
Past the point of no return.

CinderellaHey Cinderella...
“Yes?”
Are you really that lucky?
Cinderella, are you really that happy?
I want to know-where is my fairy tale?
Cinderella, are you really that privileged?
Cinderella, how’d you get your prince and your kingdom?
Cinderella, is your happy ending really all that happy?
Is it really all that perfect…?
Why are you so perfect?
Why did all your dreams come true?
What about the rest of us?
What about me?
All of our dreams haven’t come true yet.
Cinderella are you really everything we think you are?
Is your life really that great?
Don’t say we aren’t ready, and that we have to wait,

Too RealI am my own Angel of Music.
I need no one.
So why do I strive for your voice; for your touch; for just...
You?
I didn't want you, and yet now I feel a pang in my heart
Whenever I see something that reminds me of you?
Something of the past life I shared with you?
Something...from the role you played in my life?
It was such a big role...why did I let it slip away?
Why do I thrist to have you near me once more?
I miss you so much, but it's only been a day!
How much longer must we go one like this?
I only have this ring to remind me of you.
What do you have to remind you of me?
Is the sting, to you, real?
The sting of being apart?

Part Four:Best Friends 4 NeverDrosselmeyer's POV: (again)
Yes, yes why would you be mad? Your friend, the prince whom you are trying to protect, has and I quote, 'stolen your girl' or whatever you kids say these days. Anyway, the story is much more tragic than I could have ever imagined! After all, the happier you are at the start, the harder you'll 'crash and burn', so to speak, in the end! MWAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *Cough Cough*

Back to Duck's POV:
The next morning, Duck still hadn't quite gotten over what had happened yesterday. She was definitely exited about the talent show-it was Mytho, probably every g

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Not Again

by ~PrincessBlackRose, Feb 18, 2011, 7:49:21 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

I hear the words,
Her voice in the air
Reduced to a buzzing in my ears
For a minute I don't see her in front of me
But I am looking into another pair of eyes
The bathroom spins, but for a minute, it's a different bathroom
My knees grow weak again, but somehow I don't fall
Breathing is suddenly a Herculean task
And my heart crashes like glass
Bloody, bloody glass
The shattering echoes around my mind
As my world cracks and rights itself
All I can think is, Not again...

Not Againby ~PrincessBlackRose

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

merrrrrr.

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