[x]

The Man and the MoonHer mouth corners hung themselves
and I began to wonder if that was the death of them.
A simple, quiet death;
without broken fingernails lining the walls
with the stripes of a despairing end.
I began to ache with the questioning in my heart
with the echoes reverberating in my capillaries
of her face scorching sunshine in her smile
right before it crumpled
and nothing was left but a frowning moon
set firm in its resignation to an upcoming eclipse.

the scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shoulders
are braille to me, so that i
can read your skin, so that i
can know you better.

i like to listen to your heartbeat
and how it resounds differently
from mine, just so beautifully
like two songs played in tandem
to harmonise in rounds;

i like to hold your hands
and rub your back
so that maybe my love
can find its way through your pores
and seep into your blood
(never can i find the right words
to tell you just the way you feel to me)

and to think that and how i nearly missed you
makes me miss you more
every minute and mile we spend
elsewhere.
i can't sleep with another body
in my bed,
but sleeping without you
leav

He doesn't write poetry anymore.He doesn’t write poetry anymore,
even if he still collects it, reads it, saves it, treasures
faded verses from his wife the way connoisseurs
savor vinyl over metallic rainbows on disc.
I don’t mind not knowing, but I can’t stand not asking.

The record needle hits the groove wrong;
he stumbles over words that aren’t there,
rummaging for an answer he doesn’t really have.
He doesn’t write poetry anymore
and his confusion is strangely endearing.

But there’s a lyricism to his words that I love,
poetic lines inserted between the daily grind
of character names and who said what;
voiceless boys in white a

Overgrown ColorsRed like blood on a rose.
White like bone and stars.
Black like reclusiveness.
Green like dead air.
Orange like the savage instinct.
Purity like a god's heart.
Red like thawing hatred.
White like a frozen, severe cry.
Black like the night's deprived shadows.
Green like the wind in the grass.
Orange like the light in the shadows.
Purity like the sun rising.
So discharging through the moon in a wheeze is like luminous white, dispersed red.

PocketLeftover religion in the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
A key that unlocks nothing
A penny, a scrap of paper
With half of your name
Written in black ink

A song that is usually in my head
In the shriveled carcass
Of a long-dead dream
In the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
With the lint

with thanks to frosttwo roads diverged in a soulless dawn
and you pull over,
idling on the shoulder of route 50.
it's a polaroid morning and
the world is as grainy
and sleep-heavy
as your eyes,
and one million miles
is not far enough.
it plays back, filmstrip,
blurred along the length of
optic nerves,
and here you are:
facing a choice between
on
and
out.
and this?
this loosejointed, hollowbodied
weightless ache--
this is what
gone
feels like.

SurelyIt was raining
when we kissed for the first time,
for the last time.

Thin rivulets
sunk into the shrunken space
between our bodies
and divided us
like nothing could before,
like everything will
from now
until that never again
when we will
see each other once more,
no more.

Your eyes were
that bewitching shade
of dull brown blue
with all of the light darkness
whirling
in a placid pond
around a pupil
overflowing with vacancy,
and me
and my frowning smile.

The winter heat
fell like a rising tide
and,
for our every breath
was another death
so black and full of life --
embracing our boiled ice skin
as we drew apart,
came together and broke free

Condemnedbeneath the beaten earth they lay,
their dreams condemned to ashes,
and our restless bodies stretch,
for forgiveness, for direction –

survivors of the abyss,
amidst wide-eye, silent soldiers –
so many dead, so many maimed,

how many graves are we standing on, today?

SisterSister

A sister is like a soul mate;
Someone who is always there
to guide me through fate.

A sister is,
a part of childhood that I cannot erase;
A sister like you,
is one that I would never replace
because you always know how to
put a smile on my face.

I know I can depend on you
to always be there for me;
This is one hundred percent guaranteed!

I've had great memories with you
in the past;
and I hope there are many more
to come,
in the future.

Life, Death And A Pork Chop SandwichAll tangled up, hard to breathe
This steel cloud day that swirls
With heat and pounding hammers
I shake in my boots and cough up
Blood, rust and damaged flesh
Waiting for the second coming
Maybe next time around there'll be
Some chance for more than this

A twisted barbed wire halo
Wrapped tight around my skull
Blinding white light aura
Swarming with flies I'm flying
To pieces, thousands of shards
Cannot be brought back together
But I will remember the summer
Of my first Chevrolet in each bit

Gleaming bits of glass in the desert
Each reflecting a different moment
Still, now, enduring until the waves
Of a new ocean sweep them away
No pain

Pretty little things called words and dustif you weren't a hypocrite,
you'd be wrapped in the sweetest
perfumes
(learning
how to engulf the ocean
with your lungs
and think of how to cup it
in your hands
despite
your broken prayers and
still be beautiful)

dance with the gypsies
'till noon
(a quake in
your hips like the thrust
of continents
and the faultlines
emanating from
your spine,
but still
so, so graceful)

sing with the nymphs
in tune
(your voice,
it's growing old,
raspy even.
your throat's burning dry
like a monsoon
faltering in a desert,

and tones
still octaves
powerful)

be nestled in a king's arms
soon
(oh, you precious
little thing.
how

Lost In ConfusionMy mind is spinning without a rest
emotions whirl and twirl around
A merry-go-round gaining speed
Until the world blurrs before my eyes
What's happening? What's going on?

The simplest thought slips away
Right from my mind, fading so fast
Trying to focus, I stare and stare
Until my eyes are heavy and unclear.
I don't understand, what is going on...

Emotions rise and fall again
Within the blink of an eye
I'm crying, laughing, and depressed
A rollercoaster ride that never ends
Am I losing my mind in this ?

I try to close my eyes and rest
But the world spins me around
I feel like I am failing this test
Voices and noisies echo in my min

Puppet My tears fall,

like invisible

diamonds.

My heart beats,

like soundless

drums.

Unwanted,

because of the

strings attached.

DangerousMermaids; they seduce you then hold you under
Vampires; will kiss your lifeblood away
Mages, will turn your own mind against you
While trolls will hunt you down if you stay
Run through the woods, don’t stop for nothing
Monsters wait with jaws opened wide
Ignore that pretty elf, who’s probably plotting something dark
For she will torture you once she’s lured you inside
Orcs; will have a craving for your flesh
While dwarves are just prejudiced against your height
Dragons are very skilled when it comes to fire
While faeries will torment you throughout the night
So run little weakling, don’t stop now
The faery realm has go

A Night By the FireNo light,
The light sired by the night
All above whilst the day's delights
Now disappears from mortal sight.

Faded away is the sun's power,
Taking the stage now is night's sallow flower;
Now mortals may behold the stars and falling shower.

Set in a pit Nature's skyscraper ablaze
And revel in the emanating heat as you gaze,
Looking down on occasion when you hear a crack from the fire
And witness "fireflies" flying away from mother's blaze;
Dying shortly after but not lacking burning beauty do they desire!

I look out towards the teasing shore
And meditate as we sit upon her door,
Thinking on what my future has in store;
Who I am now and even

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watercrash safetyblanketed in corresponding greens to tell you everything’s imagined,
we’re not happening, we’re lying, i don’t mind at all.

i have been too sick to spot the flaws,
not quick enough to check the closets;
i never thought you’d see me as a person at all.
i’ve made this a secret, there are reasons:
look at them all, cut them up and rearrange them.

you know i’m not this way on purpose.
you’ve seen me take my chance and waste it—
i’m not happening, i’m dying, i don’t mind at all.
clean up my mess before i make it, tell me it’s for the best;
let this hang me, let this blow a

marinerthe strings you save can never hang the best in me.
this sea is emptying into a larger one,
having its merry say.
i’m sailing out into white on the blackest of nights
and i will love you against your wishes, against this backdrop
of nothingness—
the boy in the green shirt, far bolder than he’s ever been.

tarmacglided, long-suffering men in bits and pieces glided,
protected themselves against wind burns, magnetic fields, sunspots.

winter and home again, much has been spent on being small,
brought out of hanging branches and parted, coughed on and wrinkled.

fading, perhaps fading, perhaps no one has bright eyes and fingers
good enough for sticking into hurt places, good for poking.

contagionwe are vicious,
pernicious,

revealing our fangs when
our glow goes nowhere.

franklin piercea momentary resolve
bundles around me, clothes me
in beauty.
such a weather-beaten rope, such a sad and tired tree,
such a chore to be.
capture me standing, photograph my face.
the man in silent hurt is pushing the boy in the green shirt away.
clothe him in beauty, pity him always.

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when you make good

by ~tigereverskin, Jun 22, 2011, 12:47:04 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

(i crested
and created lists of foes bested,
friends disinterested.)

have your stake in me—
take it farther than i ever could
and wake me up when you make good.

(i retracted,
coalesced and reacted silently,
reached back and impacted nobody.)

have your faith in me—
fake it better than i ever could
and shake me out when you make good.

when you make goodby ~tigereverskin

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

when you make good. Written June 22, 2011.

_{I suppose it may not seem finished, but I'm saying it is. I'm sorta tired of wrestling with it.}

`YouInventedMe Sep 6, 2011 Writer

flow and form mesh perfectly

~tigereverskin Sep 7, 2011

_{Thank you, sir. Always good to hear from you!}

*LAlight Jun 25, 2011 Hobbyist Photographer

I really like the parenthetical stanzas...they add that something extra to it. It does seem unfinished somehow, but I don't think it has anything to do with the length. It just seems like you didn't say all you wanted to say...I'd say, put this one away for a while, but please do wrestle with it again some day.

~tigereverskin Jun 27, 2011

_{I wanted to set those lines apart, so I added the parentheses at the last minute. Ha! And I almost switched the sixth line and the twelfth line right after I submitted it, but I decided it really didn't make much difference. Still, there's a good chance I'll revisit it.

(Thanks for faving it!)}

*LAlight Jun 27, 2011 Hobbyist Photographer

Of course, you're welcome.

~tigereverskin Jun 29, 2011

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when you make good

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