Feel me standing there
on the draw bridge
that stands stubburn and erect
over the rushing waters blown by the wind
back and forth.
I listened to the crows
posted on gargoils designed
of eightenth century Gothic architecture
singing their death songs,
when the sun is setting in the far.
The voices of women passing
startle me with a feeling of sorrow
I can't breathe, I am dying.
Feel me, can you feel me rot away?
Slowly but surely rot away
as time passes with ease,
and taxi cabs take smiling, intoxicated faces
to wayward cafes, oh how they screech to a halting stop
and wave to me to get in.
"No thank you, I'd rather walk." I say to the smiling faces
highly intoxicated with the thought of the birds and the bees
rattling around in their empty minds.
Then they drive off, into the city lights and turn a darkened corner.
I look at the rushing water
and feel myself rot away
slowly but surely rot away.
Can you feel me?
Can you hear me?
Can you see me?
Feel my heart thump with slow paces
that manage to keep up with fast melodies.
Of songs that play in your mind
only the ones that make you sigh
and think those one days in Spring time
as you walked over the draw bridge
and paid no mind to the water underneth.
I hear no more talk of you and me, I hear no more talk
of the good old times we all shared.
Time has passed, as I take my last breathe
and hold my chest and shead a tear.
Feel me, can you?
If you can, put your hand to my weak heart
and feel it thump away with every second wasted
on useless items.
Now, see me a man of one time greatness
reflect his life with a reflection in the water below.
How I sigh and cry and breath heavely,
as I feel myself rot away.
The voices of woman pass me by.
Tomorrow is a new day,
for the smiling faces in taxi cabs will go home
and soak their raging hangovers with cool, wet rags.
As I still stand on the draw bridge singing with the crows,
feeling myself rot away.
Can you feel me without you, rotting away?
I surely can feel myself rot.
Such a heavy word, "rot"
So vulgare, yet a great description of me,
I pull out a shawl you once wore and I kiss it.
As the wind gusts and the sun rises and my shadow
comes to meet me, the wind shall take my last memory
of you away.
And I shall weep no more.
Then what will I do? Shall I walk the streets
and think of you.
Yes you, still rambling all throughout my head
like a lose screw.
Can you feel me? Feel me rot away
feel me think about you, and all your works.
Can you feel me?
Copyright © Chris Boskovski
The Moon is just a silver scarf,
As the Sun is just a Jewel
Glowing above us, overhead
Lighting the way for ev'ry Fool
Rainbows envelop me, on this bed of clouds
As the colours bring me back to life
Let go of Hope in all my Sadness-
My Soul of Gold, I twist the knife
**COLORS CONTEST ENTRY
Copyright © Just That Archaic Poet
Oh my sweet and beautiful Penelope
Oh how beautiful you are, and when I see you come down
to the pearl gates of immortality and come down to see me,
as we join hands and walk the shorelines
I see you my beautiful Penelope, she you who walks through beauty,
We shall join in immortality.
Your heart built of stone and paved in golden
you born out of the beauty of a rose and maturity of a lady
you are the one who never sings a depressing and low melody.
My Beautiful Penelope,
The one beautiful lady form Napoli
Oh, how you walk in such glory.
See me look over you and hear my heart beat
for you, I love you, see me for I care about you.
Take it from me, for I shall take you by the hand
and as our shadows rise to meet us in the morning
I can make love to you, then we shall love the night away.
My beautiful Penelope, as I take you through the twilight
we dream of shooting stars falling from the evening skies,
as we hold each other close,
take me and I shall take you and bring each other together,
and fuse us together with a sweet and loving kiss.
She is my beauty and I love her
she takes me by the hand and curels me to her warm chest.
Cares for me,
Makes me laugh,
Makes me feel good and uplifts my soul
everytime I lay my almond eyes upon her beauteous body.
My beautiful Penelope, oh how I see the glory in your blue eyes,
your luxurious, long flowing hair colored golden
like the rays of the morning sun.
Dare to care
about such beauty in her eyes?
Dare to care
about such beauty in her cries,
as she tells me of her suicide struggles?
I hold you close to me
and I hope you to be
my love for all eternity.
See me and I see you to tell me about you and your day,
as you come home and say,
That you love me.
And I shall say I love you too,
with a zealous attitude in my voice
I shall take you into our room and you shall tell me about your day.
You shall tell me, under the shadows of the trees, the houses, the red rocks.
I shall show you love in a handful of roses,
deliver you a bouquet of roses and violets,
as we see the breeding lilacs grow tall,
we shall lay in the grasslands and look up at the clouds,
that shape themselves into beautiful paintings in the glorious blue sea
we call the sky.
Oh My beautiful Penelope
my glorious maiden lady,
who sings such beauty in her melody
that it brings tears to nightingales' eyes.
My beautiful Penelope, you are my love
here are a dozen roses for you to express and show my love for you,
my beautiful Penelope.
Love is eternal with you.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski
I sit in disbelief of what I've become....
I drink a toast to the evil, setting sun...
I am nothing but treading on being done...
I've run out of clichés, yet I've only begun...
What has happened can never be undone...
No worries, I can't find my gun...
I can't remember my dreams, not even one....
I snear at my nemesis, the sinister sun...
Copyright © Darrell Hoover
And should I scratch the darkness
For the sake of blood
Flow sickly red abhorrent
The succulence bewildered sticky heart
Ravenous escape to shadow
And mumble prays that have no answers
Only gleams of hope
That plea-bargain the sun to have risen
Leave me scathing in my own dust
Hiding in the corners where shadows depart
Refusing even nightmares
On the dull thump and thud
Beating slow incarcerated seconds behind my eyes
Fickle bones to draw the knife
Contemplate the makings of suicide
Black ink blood on the blank ink night
Swallowed my pride
And tossed the blade aside
Chill shivered in beaded sweat
Lest you forget, you forget, how close you came
To the ending vent
And the endless rant of an open vein
Huddled on the rocking chair of my knees
Plea-bargain the sun to rise
Save me from the dread of tonight
Swallow me whole for the sake of blood
This poem was written in the late 90's; after I had faced and accepted an awful truth. I
remember the following day like it was yesterday. I realized I was stronger and more
myself than I had ever been.
Copyright © colin mitchell williams