Details |
Angel Copenhaver Poem
I see you speaking,
your words misleading
I watch you closer
but hold you further.
Your double meaning and secret keeping,
my heart is aching, my soul is reaching.
It calls out to you, why don't you hear me?
They echo into, your arms deceiving.
I'll disconnect now, for a moment
but memories flood, I can't control it.
Our love is a poisin and it's deep within my veins
Our life is a mockery its driving me insane.
Our kiss is a catalyst to every horror show
that kiss is the only kiss that I have ever known
Ideals of my former self get lost within our sheets
I only feel the beauty and I can't control the beast.
Together we did, conquer sorrow, but it was fleeting, gone tomorrow.
Goodbye my lover, goodbye my brother, i know we've learned from one another.
Lessons felt and rediscovered, goodbye my lover, goodbye my brother.
Copyright © Angel Copenhaver | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Angel Copenhaver Poem
There. I hear her voice
It illuminates the air
It tinges the rain when the clouds are full.
Echoing a remnant of a thing some have claimed as love.
I ache with almost saturation.
These unrested almost's that crawl beneath my heart.
They are never anything but an almost!
Is this the tip of my longing?
Fractures of beauty and whiffs of reality float near and almost, also.
Taunting and puzzling these almost's pass by
and by..
She is again
I hear her!
Each fragment reminiscent of she!
I cannot still myself long enough to paint her beauty. I have only almost's
Even when I have her..
I have only almost's to give:
Almost a feeling I thrust,
Almost some passion I h(e)ave!
Almost, almost.
almost.
Copyright © Angel Copenhaver | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Angel Copenhaver Poem
Adaptation is survival
Consistent influences warrant
Adaptation
External influences
Transform thoughts
Into internal
Influences
Survival has no morals
Copyright © Angel Copenhaver | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Angel Copenhaver Poem
Abstract idea
Communicated/expressed
Verbally?
Diverted/digressed
To hieroglyphics!
(re)constructed/percieved
To conform(to)able
Comfortable
Beauty:
Poem.
Copyright © Angel Copenhaver | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Angel Copenhaver Poem
You sneak into my mind
One memory at a time
Everything is u before i know it
You sneak into my brain
Nothing is the same
I feel crazy and i pretty sure i show it
U snuck into my life
When ur gaze met mine
We felt dizzy and we did explore it
You broke down my walls
You wanted me to fall
I fell deeper than i really ever knew it
I drove you insane
I put up constant barricades
You had me by the heart and we blew it
Now we'll never know
Distance between us grows
Our stitch in time has torn a whole and we cant sew it
You sneak into my mind
One memory at a time
Everything is u before i know it
You sneak into my brain
Nothing is the same
I feel crazy and i pretty sure i show it
Copyright © Angel Copenhaver | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Angel Copenhaver Poem
COVID
A cocoon starts. Thick membranes of tissue encompass yourself. Gathering and condensing molecules and listening to life.
This skin, its filled with strains of a virus and craves the crevice of familial caves. A barrier. The host of your new pupae calling itself quarantine. Quarantine. This thick mucous seeps and creeps around the home and tries! It tries to wound all life into one. It fails. A pupae is one. You are. You are the life form that contracts a shell of collective consciousness. This shell that reaches for more, it is yours! You cant breathe. You want to share this cacoon with everyone, ANYONE. Then! Feelers. You have sprouted not only antennae, but music! The melody of change gathers atoms and sings the song of wings! You! The cacoon was meant for you. You hear yourself for the first time and when you emerge they see your beauty but cannot hear your song. Suddenly! The membranes close in on them. And through your newfound body and song, you console them through their own metamorphosis and together you sing the song of the butterfly.
Copyright © Angel Copenhaver | Year Posted 2021
|
Details |
Angel Copenhaver Poem
We can reach our (under)standing
Only once we've (under)stood
Behind
Beneath
Our seperate values.
Then we de and re construct
Perception
To incorpate us
Two
To(get)her(e)
Copyright © Angel Copenhaver | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Angel Copenhaver Poem
She that travels alone
Dies in the end in the bitter cold
With a trail left behind her
Of
Whispers
Thoughts
Of the world
And time
That was never hers to
Own.
Copyright © Angel Copenhaver | Year Posted 2015
|