Art Grief Poems

The tulips are too excitable, it is Winter here.
—Sylvia Plath (Tulips)

Like Tulip-beds of different shape and dyes,
bending beneath the invisible west-wind’s sighs.
—Thomas Moore

Roses propose to...

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A belle, ethereal and calm,
Was cursed with eternal tears.
Her grace was destined to decay, 
were that which caused her tears revealed.

Her face, a sparkling mess...

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She haunted me as a child,
Staring quietly from her watercolor world. 
Her strange presence called me. 
Powder-white skin and rouge cheeks,
Pencil-thin brow over 
Dark-rimmed eyes...

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Blank for poetry
For the first time, I’m blank 
No poetic rhythm 
or vocabulary connoisseurship 
Just plainly and utterly blank
I’m searching and scouring
Not finding the right...

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I no longer know where to find me 
I wish you didn't leave me here to rot 
No matter how much rubble I force myself...

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Rockstar girl I hardly remember, like Green Day I tried to wake you up after September, come to find out you're deceased put my skill...

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Sat there on my balcony hoping you would come back to me
I played the chords on my guitar but the music didn't 
seem the same...

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It was in smudged oil pastel;
Soft to the glare and rough to the delicate brush of flesh.
In your eyes were the starry night skies that...

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Comment On Decency And Morality

This ole earth sets its unholy record
as sin is so often celebrated
The bad walk with chins and chest puffed out
streets danger...

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My friend, don’t struggle so
Not much longer to go
No more working for the all-mighty buck
No more lusting after the…
Ahhh your dirty mind 
Will be the...

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Memories are the lamps that illuminate the dark channels of life
Eden Verse



In the light of summer sunset
Shimmer they on silver sands
Days of childhood days of...

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A beautiful lier
Tell me lies as butterflies die, 
That bloom into firelights, 
Your words are powerful inornate darkness 
Electric hums of an infinite instrument 
Of...

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It all boils down
From an undermining perspective
Downplayed when quantified
But a starting point
Hardly can you see 
But condenses and precipitate
The collapse of a firm ?
I was...

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Like art, hope is the cradle of life
with zeal, this cruel world
from frustration, our haunting zones
ours' are tormenting chapters untold
when tomorrow has nothing to offer
while...

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She is a field of lavender, nestled in a dreamy land,
A sea of purple petals, like an artist’s gentle hand,
She slumbers in the landscape, with...

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