twcpoetry

[twcpoetry]

adornment

the grey spots run across the moon

a door, the grey spots sun

unsun

adoration

meant for

the grey spots run across my eyes

ardor, meant for

amulet, necklace, choker

unbreath, unsunned guise, metaphor

key & the serrate clouds of sunrise say

grey

that they say

meant for

i do not know what

i wish i, size, serrated angel

unsung, wise, unsun clouds

open, cut

[twcpoetry]

illumination

lost at 2am- the sky is flaring and i don't know why. colors that take the shape of you, brilliant where they meet the horizon, become an apparition's touch without synonym. coming to rest, at a place where the tall grass attends- all manner of emotions fumble for shape, for the likeness of this moments shimmering fugue, burning through the night.

[twcpoetry]

what if one thing eats another

what if it doesn’t matter

they hang you from the skin of your arms and

gravity drags the bones from your flesh

how much of agony is just the passage of time

slow grind of galaxies

stars winding down

here you are

busy with the slaughter of lambs

light flickers on the wall

night

blood of the cosmos

do you think dark matter

radiation

the streaming particles of time

all those tiny invisible things crashing through you

do you think it feels like

how an hourglass feels

as the sands run through it

do you think it knows they run out

[twcpoetry]

Voodoo

I forget when the numbers in the years stopped having the same meaning they did when I was still Miss Mary Mackin' on asphalt, when I went through my own all dressed in black black black phase. I remember the art and the poetry and the love. I forget when I started counting backwards in decades to get to the time I remember feeling this full. Maybe this is why the more our lives become entwined the more I feel Most completely and totally me. It's something to do with your effervescent enthusiasm, the way it bubbles out of you, the way you can't control it, the way lowercase isn't really the way you ever do anything, really. And that's what I love the most about you: how completely and totally you you are. © 2024 by Jennifer R.R. Mueller

[twcpoetry]

One day, one rhyme- Day 3767

Children’s backyard swimming spot holds

Warm veggie broth that’s good for colds,

And there’s enough to serve a group:

A paddling pool that’s full of soup.

[twcpoetry]

tell me how to search the heavens for venus on a crystal night

a morning star before dawn to rival the sun

it sparkles like a dreamcatcher strung between stars

capturing the ghost of a love too true to perish

we dreamdance to chopin’s nocturnes

a glissando across piano keys

my space ghost makes my heart race

twirl twirl twirl a fever dream pace

across flickers of turquoise northern lights

meeting under a pavilion of silver star glow

i kiss a ghost so far away

©️-Aubrie-2024

[twcpoetry]

i touch her with ghost fingers a whisper a breath upon her skin

a look from my shy eyes my soul a vision of her heart

i kiss her velvet skin safe olive skin my lips upon her beauty

i love without an end  forever and even Angels weep

[twcpoetry]

H₂Ome

. The rain has fallen A new day’s blossoms begun Together as one

. sck042016

[twcpoetry]

Our Songs

This year the year we stayed too long and fell into someone else's song yet what I'd so much rather do would be to sing our songs for you songs to greet the morning light more to kiss then sing goodnight needing neither rhyme nor reason as one greeting each new season with words of love to last forever for hearts time could never sever then the sky sang we were through leaving each alone without a clue to wander lost both broken hearted as one by one our songs departed tonight tears fall from a distant star and I'm left to ask only where you are

[twcpoetry]

the darkness said: hold me and i left my shadow there not knowing what i'd lose knowing the dark was sad we trust the light too much

[twcpoetry]

You’ve been close.

Close to love, but never in love.

At least that’s what you tell them. You know, the ones that always ask. The ones that don’t understand. The ones that act like everything is perfect, but are kissing with one eye open.

Looking over their lovers shoulders.

Watching. Waiting. Wanting, the next better thing that comes along.

You’ve been close.

But at least the love you are waiting for, will be real.

Close.

Close to love.

[twcpoetry]

Tell me about the home of your heart where the sun shows bright in Spring array

tell me of the rococo pirouettes of light, how they dance clear through me like a misuse of dawn’s

somber visions, as if lucid in its own conscience adrift in the rustle of my string-plucked soul,

as the flora and fauna of huckleberry reveal a sound: the hum, hum, hum of a captured spirit,

a mere tsunami of your tenderness unfolding inside me, inside the dwelling of our life

Where I realize how sweet it is to be loved by you.

© thespian drummer / tender tsunami

[twcpoetry]

WE ARE NEVER SAFE

we are never safe

behind the stone walls we build

tunnels we hide in

The Shield of Truth protects all

strong enough to stand alone

©Joshnny J P Lee

08 May 2024

TANKA: 5-7-5-7-7

Photo Credit, Unsplash Image

[twcpoetry]

coming in

I could cope

with being alone

much of everything

I’d been through

put that on to me

forbidden to talk

with anybody

about anything

that bothered me

tell us they said

of your troubles

& either did nothing

or reported back

to those who

had given those

troubles to me

leaves a body

trusting no one

walking alone

seeing only dark skies

shadowed corners

no warmth no love

coming in

& then when

you get old enough

to cut & run

they act bewildered

me? they say

what have I ever done?

neil benbow

[twcpoetry]

One day, one rhyme- Day 3765

Hot leafy brew is fun to drink,

In garden pitcher? I don’t think!

This may lead to some formal bans:

Serving tea from watering cans.

[twcpoetry]

[twcpoetry]

SILENCE

Yesterday, I bade my words farewell

Pursed my lips too tight 'til they turned pale.

A shut mouth has no stories to tell

Refrained from even sharing tall tales.

Bitter daggers will no longer be hurled

Even the relished honey will cease to drip.

Because silence guards the tongue, unperturbed

Master and slave - silence has made of my lips.