Poetry Forum

Kotzo - all messages by user

10/26/2012 7:37:09 PM
Erosion	It is the denial that you try to deny, Your sky does not cry; its tears do not join yours, They are not pure or purified, Chemical toxins and poison fumes wash the air, Acid descends from the lower heavens, Overtaking the higher earth and rushing low, Sweeping into swirls and spirals, Descending! Descending! Stripping you down into a shell, Natural erosion of emotion, Fires turn the noxious sky grey, It moans with warnings, Run away from the toxic greys, The sky does not cry; its tears tear into yours, A haze of aerial smokey waterways, Blending in some undivine battle, Two way personal conflicting convictions, Ground degrades and atmosphere fades, Decay! Decay! Artificial rot and ruin remain, Inferno soil and tainted air, Breathe in heavy your breath now soiled, What is left of your cloudy day? You have bled until all was bleak, Now, and only now do you relent, Your heart tattered and your clothes rent, The sky does not cry; its life flows free, Defeated! Defeated!
10/26/2012 7:38:31 PM
Butterfly	It was on the beat of butterfly wings, We became torn (micro-emotion fibers worn), Like pages from a discarded journal, Always said we knew what we were doing, Until all that we did was done, I thought that we grew yet I'm still just a caterpillar waiting to cocoon, But I don't know how to do it (it was supposed to be a natural thing), I hear the gentle beat of butterfly wings above me, Its simple life a distant disaster, A record of things ignored (so small, can't be my fault), Someone's bad karma.
10/26/2012 7:53:55 PM
Rubik's Cube Sestina	It has not once left me alone, the stubborn beauty, It has called to me to be at last solved, But I had left its secrets alone, the unknown pattern, Colors telling stories left running around my head, Every fragment remaining present at my side, I've been left no choice but to learn the cube. Subtlety not a strength of the cube, It flashes its routine as a show of beauty, A rotation giving some new meaning on every side, It screams to me to be done and solved, I cannot resist the call as it echos in my head, As I am inclined to find the natural pattern. It is not talent that I decode these patterns, Wisdom pours from the pieces of the cube, Strength to body, to my soul and head, Until at last I can interpret that stubborn beauty, New puzzles presented, new puzzles solved, It remains with me ever at my side. Others have put it from their side, Trampled or mocked the power of pattern, Convince their being that in their hands it can't be solved, They self trap in the confines of the cube Every aspect of both simple and dense beauty, Lock and seal and throw away the key of their head. Shame to me if trapped ever is my head, With only ignorant misery to ever be at my side, Gray-scale and dull would I find natural beauty, Confusion certain to hold even with simple pattern, Never would comprehension visit the cube, Ever distant the problems from solved. Joy to the heart that you may be solved, Enlightenment to minds you posses our heads, Wonderful truth in so small a cube, Do not ever leave me, stay at my side And whisper closely all your practical patterns, Thank you for being such stubborn, stubborn beauty. The pattern of the cube, Can only be solved on every side, If the beauty is in my head.
11/4/2012 1:03:57 AM
Room	The room in the corner, With its three wood doors, Each heavier than before, A subtle air not of fear, Patient vents waiting to hear, Clenching at the scent, Umbrage and stale paint, Taste of turpentine and taint , Dust gracefully composed, Large eraser shards in throws, Senile light made rent, Lingering weight of lead, Below a layered graphite bed, Glows like the antithesis of chrome, A shallow doom drawn in monotone. edited by Kotzo on 11/4/2012
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