With the moon at eye level
Eyes heavy and mood too loud
An unwelcome stranger
The night narrows
Eyes beging to peek
Swiftly she's out of sight
But the road is long
And so is the night
Yet rise will she once again
Soon before she begins to fall
A train ride ~ poet-whisperer
6 notes
·
View notes
what is love and how am i to differentiate it from anything else? infatuation, admiration, adoration? it's all a blur, almost melding together and confuses the blind fuck out of me.
@poet-whisperer
2 notes
·
View notes
Patience
I am blind - I simply cannot wait
My mind, it stumble
Befuddles in its wake
Confused
Not so much - I know what I am to do
Yet the fear, the estrangement
I cannot help I elude
Yet I've done what I must
In what is barren - an opportunity
The best I could muster
In all my uncertainty
I tried rhyming again (lol I'm bad at this)- @poet-whisperer
3 notes
·
View notes
The very essence of being alive is confusing
And the most confusing of it all is vision
To be able to see
You never really see yourself
First person view
That's what we call it
But is that even real?
How do I know what is and what isn't when I can't even bloody tell if I am?
Where is this going?
I do not know.
I shall fall asleep tonight and once again forget all that I do.
Until one day again I will question everything again
And there's no better way to put it
Than that I am simply confused.
The essence of life? - @poet-whisperer
3 notes
·
View notes
My noble riddle forever be mine
You are a riddle unexplained
a mirror to a universe untold
breathing life into a time
semblance to a soul
with a mind so powerful
and a truth unfathomable
with intelligence unspoken
and a creation unexplained
where religion in its brightest form
could simply be denied
with a deepening
buried in dust
that I could lie in
as a cold corpse
with stench and rot
astrew with flowers and tear drops
buried in dust
to a dream of immortality
from which you
wherein can never leave
a forevermore contradiction
to the superficial
and an evocation to the thought
with no human explanation
where a whole universe diminished
could forever be confused
with an expression so plenty
that it could bring meaning
to an understanding
so crafty
so true
so good
that the deeds of the spiritual
that the deeds behind the veil of life itself
hidden could forever unfold
to forget a forgotten tomorrow
that may never have existed
within the reaches of my soul
but truly to the extent
of my conciousness
where nothing truly ever ends
and new life as vision
draws verified and true
5 notes
·
View notes
“I stayed up all night writing a song for you only to realize the next morning that I can’t sing.”
— poet-whisperer.
22 notes
·
View notes
This started with a sad Twitter account
That turned into something fun
Now I don't know what to do with this
So I just read some of the old stuff I write
To find out who I was
3 notes
·
View notes
“Autumn leaves Cloud over as a breeze Of herbal flowers Waving, dancing Left and right Uniquely In what almost Seemed like A forest of pure gold.”
—
48 notes
·
View notes
“A cycle of life That revolves and resolves itself By the continuous, repetitive and never-ending Recycle of history And only the evolution of a generation. How deluded are we to think that we are something special?”
— The cycle of life.
70 notes
·
View notes
when the premiere of your movie is on the same night as your pajama party so you have to compromise
238K notes
·
View notes
“She has this thing about her A look in her eyes different then most. A view, a perspective Similar, yet unlike mine. And I was afraid. I was afraid to love. And not just love, but love her. She carried a sound of silence Deep inside that nobody else has, A calming embrace so strange and beautiful That it terrified me. I was afraid to choose her, I was afraid to lose her. Yet I never went after her. What hopes did I ever have? What hopes do I still do?”
—
It’s been a while since love #1
80 notes
·
View notes
“-What the…. - Twice tomorrow the chanty banter Between nervous tourists and compounding temptation Unable to either justify nor awaken The common laughter of the creatures we are. Yet with closed eyes and sense of escapism We simply melt away with the music that played from a mundane existence That we all till now ignored As we wonder what is this eternal ethereal dissolute of a life. I wrote about the impossible The discovery of its existence The howling, the agony, the grieving, the feeling I wrote about the impossible The experiences of its discovery. Yet right now at this very moment I wonder. As I am lost in a frequency other then my own. What the fuck am I writing about right now?”
— @poet-whisperer
2 notes
·
View notes
“I like doing nothing.”
—
2 notes
·
View notes
No one cares
That's not the problem
That's a fact
No one cares
No one gives a shit
Get up and get out
Be who you wanna be
Do what you wanna do
No one cares
Neither should you
No one cares
@poet-whisperer
13 notes
·
View notes
Twitterpated
1 note
·
View note
Of course, because in the end how else are you influenced by their writing if not by their thoughts
@poet-whisperer
1 note
·
View note
A memory is fragile
The more we talk about it
The lesser it becomes what it is
and more something we want it to be
That is why we have pictures
They remind us of the memory
As is
A moment
Pure and innocent
uncorrupted by our thoughts.
@poet-whisperer
4 notes
·
View notes