[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

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?

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

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.

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.

Why meI wanted sleep very badly
I tried my hardest to rest
I closed my eyes and laid there
But sleep didn’t come easy
I would doze off
And wake back up
Again
Why me? When I know I have to be up at 3 AM.

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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rookeryRookery - A Fable? An Art?
---------------------

"Get thee to a rookery. To a Rookery. Go!"
And Jack was dragged, yes, dragged to the gates of the nearest, and thrust amongst the other crows, the thieves, the veriest poor, the creations of the greed and intentional neglect of the richest of the city. But Jack was a clever, handsome, and charming little rook. He soon flew again, a prince among magpies. Clever though Jack might be, his boldness was even greater. Far too much so. He was soon caught again. There is no crime greater and more feared by the rich than thievery done by someone other than themselves, and by the fifth catc

farewellWhen the time has come to set aside the summer
to let it go
to wave goodbye
I shall say

"You were the best of all my friends."

blue stick menBlue stick men
made of glass fat neon tubes
almost glowing
falling chaos
down on couches backwards
on their faces on the floor
tripping over chairs and almost flying
but nothing broken
not so far

stiffly crawling
trying-searching
how to stand up
find the light switch
leave the big house
fall some more

crying-laughing
all the way

bloodhoundWhen I go walking on the sidewalks
beside the streets and bordered by the trees
Those trees, they almost never fail
to bark at me
at the scent, the trail, I leave in passing

But in the forest, the trees and me
we have an understanding
we know we all belong there
the wolves howl with us
the bears let us have some honey
and the bees always return
to being themselves

But there is something about those streets
something crazy
something fast
that's going s

teasweet tea and crackers on a lazy grey afternoon
unsalted tops because life is salt enough
reading Dandelion Wine
it's all about the Present while seeming about the past
it's all about being Alive
and knowing
loving
that it is so.

How to win at chess.First, observe the board, note the positions and character of the pieces.

Second, remove the bishops, the king, the queen, the castles, and the knights.

Then, promote the pawns to humans.

Finally, remove the board.

Now you have already won the game.

Begin play.

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Submitted: December 16, 2011
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[x]

Alice wings it

by *LancelotPrice, Dec 16, 2011, 4:09:10 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

gravity is a well
but long before  Alice hits the water-covered bottom
and swims to unknown  beauties
she learns to fly while falling
falling
past the things that one would cling to
past the anchors that they are
past deluded people who would grab you, Alice
if you let them
if you wear big clothes
with grippy threads
people with those swollen heads
filled with sterile, crawling thoughts
so heavy they can only live
a life of upside down
and off to the side of penalty flags

keep drifting, Alice
keep drifting
prepare to be so ready
so ready for any thing
that you will never  sink
but only fall forever in a glide
so easy
so alive

Lancelot Price 2011 December 11

Alice wings itby *LancelotPrice

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

it should be obvious enough

*AlecBell Jan 4, 2012

She's always been a hero of mine.An excellent piece of re-framing, Lance!

*LancelotPrice Jan 4, 2012

Thanks.

She and Wonderland have always been special to me.

*AlecBell Jan 5, 2012

Me too!

~Agnes-Arelia Jan 2, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I think this is the most beautiful thing I've read today and I've read a lot today.

*LancelotPrice Jan 2, 2012

Thank you, Ines. A wondeful compliment.

Thanks also for the faves.

~Agnes-Arelia Jan 3, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

You're very welcome.

*halcyonshores Dec 28, 2011 Hobbyist General Artist

Brilliant title and impeccable flow.
I hope many an Alice of this world will heed these words.

*LancelotPrice Dec 29, 2011

Thank you. Me, too.

=egotisticalasshole Dec 21, 2011

i wanted to read this the moment i read its title. it has the loveliest sort of dreamy sense to it (because of how the lines flow without stopping), like a soft voice in the air.

*LancelotPrice Dec 21, 2011

Thanks, ohepi. I see you only have one poem up so far on your new account. I await more.

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Alice wings it

Alice wings itby *LancelotPrice

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