[x]

Angel SighsWings fluttering high above.
Oh what she can see!
No corruption and chaos.
Beauty before the eye.

She soar and soars,
High as the clouds,
Seeing what others
Only can dream.

Landing on a ledge,
By water, by sea,
Is when she gazes
Down at true beauty.

The heavens part
And she can view
For miles what any
Painter can't achieve.

Folding her wings
She escapes in peace,
Serenity at her new world.

For when an angel sighs,
The world sighs with.

Brick by boring brickThere’s a song that I don’t skip over.

That I’m not allowed to skip over when it comes up.

It’s not a particularly good song, but it has very fitting lyrics. And if I can hear them without thinking that someone needs to hurt me, then everything is okay.

I know that I’m okay.

The first time that I’d stood on this bridge I got Stairway to Heaven, which is a great song, and which I’d been happy to listen to while I watched the running water and worried about a class and a guy who’d unnerved me. And I’d been hoping I’d get a similar song this time, sitting with my back against the ra

Angels Angels
______

When Angels care to dance , on life we take a chance ,
Try what we think is true , and risk all like a fool .

When Angels sleep to rest , our life remains a test ,
On trusting what is just, and who that we can trust .

When Angels touch our hearts, in life we must depart,
In knowledge that we know ,our journey soon will grow .

When Angels choose to leave , it's time for us to grieve ,
Our time on earth is done , and loved ones will be numb.

Story of My Life (abridged)One tall mountain, no easy climb.

IDIdentification
Is lost.
Submerging the solid stares,
Motionless.
In direct sunlight,
The air is a thick
Barrier
Halting,
Any give away.
Can't you see it's me
Without an ID?
Your eyes only detect
Plastic and Ink.
I'm easily faded out
Of this world,
So strange and monitored
With buildings full of ghosts,
Like me.
Except they truly cry
To be turned back into a tight
Flat
Surface.
A faceplate,
Devoid of humanity,
And any vivid being that could spring forth
With radiant originality,
And short circuit the system
Through instantaneous shock.
Igniting the scanners
With flames of open vision.
Remember the flesh, tone,
And soul.
Can't you see it's me
Without an ID?
Or can your eyes only detect,
Plastic and Ink?

Thirteen YearsWill I ever see you again?

Will I ever walk along your corridors,
sit in your classrooms or dash across your fields?
Will my feet ever tread your tiled floors?
Will my fingers ever brush against your weary walls?
Will I get another chance to listen to your teachers
or wear the navy uniform with a heart full of pride?
Will I ever sing the school anthem from the bleachers?
Will my head ever be filled with thoughts of you again?

The walls have kept my secrets,
faithfully guarding them for thirteen years.
The mirrors have noted my every expression,
witnessing the best and the worst of my days.
The windows have captured each and every

Depart To The SunshineJust as the eyes of mine heart begin to see
just how much I truly love thee.

Thou departest to the sunshine to walk upon it's golden beams
and dwell in a castle of dreams.

To walk upon distant shores
and bathe in the oceans shallow shoals.

Flying away on wings of steel
knowing not that my heart you steal.

Thou departest to the sunshine,
leaving naught behind but memories divine.

Finally, good-bye I shall not say
for you may yet again pass my way.

So here I will await, till it is
decided by fate.

Until then fly away to your dreams and
into the sunshine's golden beams.

(23 March 2013)

ObsoleteObsolete.

Everyone is too wrapped in their own lives to even care about yours.

But what they fail to remember is that this earth is only the first of many floors.

Tears cascade, smiles appear and fade while the universe continues to ignore,

As they impatiently knock and wait outside life's man made divisible door.

So when they become to self involved in the successes of their own cause.

Just remember this world,

This univ

Unconscious Epiphany.Unconscious Epiphany.

I thrive and depend on your compliments

And it is only then as a direct consequence,

Am I truly able to write with confidence.

Even though your words are only temporary.

I deem your contribution as utterly necessary,

In order to refresh my wavering, selective memory.

My own validation depends on your approval.

Whether it is congratulatory or discouragingly brutal.

Your input is the one thing that is most crucial.

Can I call myself a writer if I don't believe in myself?

When I constantly seek approval from everyone else?

How can I then expect to make any sort of wealth?

Of a craft and skill I still think any

perthcatch your breath

in the skeletons of leaves

it varies - this land

these trees - it carries

the wind of my afterthoughts on the

mountain tops

i stole it from the cedars

they came to me when i was young

when dreaming was too keen of believing,

& forgetting was too fond of feeling.

i sent it off, & found it reeling

itself back in

i stood in the lakes

you stared at my quak

ing heart; tore apart your

self-made prison.

undone & dealing a thousand

sentiments on the tip of your tongue

i spilled wisdom

but saw my reflection

in the vapor, & this was when

i became older - & later on

told myself how to look beyond an hour

i've bee

KrystalOh, Krystal
Your eyes would light up the world
The things you'd do
The people you'd meet
They'd smile for your every heartbeat
I'm not going to describe your appearance
'Cause I know you'd be beautiful no matter what
Your smile would bring joy to my heart
And your kind heart would bring so much joy
Not just to me
But to every living thing
I'd hold you tight when you have nightmares
And stroke your hair until you sleep
I'd listen to your soft breath
And sing to you your favourite lullabies
Oh, Krystal
I'd love you with every fibre of my being
I'd teach you to play beautiful music
And bring compassion to the earth
I'd teach y

4:00 Insomnia4:00 Insomnia

Every morning.
Bedded by insomnia
Sight, barbed by black
daisies.

It is the same dream,
The fantasia breaks in
My head, splinter
Of light bulb ashes
no fixed
Form
No
Form
Only the cerebral

imagery
It is not a form.

Only
A half pence
Tin, and broken
Oily and screeching
Yet no sound is made.

A waking vision

I cannot wield

The need
That narcoleptic need

You
used

To

Help
me
sleep

s o
s o u
n
d
l
y.

Somewhere

The rain scent, the usual scenery
The dark surroundings, city light spreads
The sight of plane on my window
Passing by, without noticing

I grow weary by crying
Without any shoulder to cling on anymore
While mustering my last strength to walk
Memories of adolscence dreams drift slowly

What I want to do
What I want to become
Are that phrases still hold the meaning?
In the end, it's beyond my reach to decide

Just tell me I am a mistake
Laugh at me, pity me and turn your back
I am fed up with your sugarcoat words
Not even my thousand tears could make a change

Scattered thought, hungry soul
Too much things I was forced to unders

My Sole ConditionTo what conditions must I comply
when prompted to write
of what dwells inside?

'Tis always my voice I aim to speak
with pen in hand, bleeding ink,
as does my heart, spilling words
upon a page, perhaps unheard
save by me, myself, and I -
imagination amplified!

Eclectic fragments in the mind -
to each his own for these are mine;
thereby forming how they will
in fluid flight with feathered quill,
as freedom flows with expression
of fantasy or pure confession.

Symbolic makings of the soul
take shape as musical rhymes unfold.
Whilst not perfected or contrived,
'tis how this poem became alive;
for thus am I, in each rendition,
still my own poeti

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More from =tearsofbreakingglass

If I Gave YouIf I gave
You the moon
Would you want
The stars?

There are so
Many of them.
How could I
Find the best?

If I gave
You my heart
Would you want
My soul?

Something I need
For someone I
need. What if
It was broken?

What if all
My gifts were
Broken? What would
You do?

Return them?
Sell them?
Replace then?
Give them away?

That's why...
No one owns
The stars. The
Moons still in
The sky. My
Hearts in my
Chest. And my
Soul? It flows
Freely.

America's 'Wonderful' Idea*America decided to go on a diet. After asking the countries what would be good he decided to look somewhere closer to home. Preferably the states. (Time: Now)

The Californian Diet:

America walked into California's room. Surfboards and shark heads hung all around. She was laying on her bed reading some gossip magazine. The headline read: Justin Beiber; Teen Star or Canadian Spy? The one beside that said: Lady Gaga; Trying to Make New York More Powerful?

"I'd like to read that when your done," He said.

California threw the magazine at his face in self defense. "Really dude?" America said through forty pages of the fame.

"Hehe.

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Submitted: December 21, 2012
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Chained

by =tearsofbreakingglass, Dec 21, 2012, 5:31:20 PM
Literature / Poetry / Horror / Haiku & Eastern

Escape these chains
Beaten, bruised, and bloody
Can't somebody help?

Chainedby =tearsofbreakingglass

Literature / Poetry / Horror / Haiku & Eastern

For ~poetrybook's contest. Round 3, "bondage"

It's probably scary how close to the deadline I keep doing these. But I'm making it so it's all good. Hopefully I continue onto the next round though.

And yes, this is such a creative title.

Critique by ~loonylady64 Dec 21, 2012, 9:14:35 PM

Some of the best and most famous works are in just a few words. This is clearly one of these works. 10 words that drive depressed ones through. 10 words that we all feel and won't all admot. 10 words that many cry about every day. 10 words that are lost, and YOU just said. I almost cried!!!!!

AMAZING! If I knew how to make this go onto the deviantart wall for daily deviations, I would!!!! (I only critique works that I like 'cuz I don;t like being mean or if there is a little mistake. This is a perfect one!) You deserve zillions of fans from just this!!!!

bye

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Critique by ~shadowsmokeandfire Dec 21, 2012, 5:39:39 PM

This is a very interesting haiku, and it is very unusual. It conjures up strange and disturbing images, which, if that is what you wanted to do, then good job. The only comment I have on this poem is that, yes, I understand that as a haiku, it is supposed to be this short, but I truly think this poem could be better longer. That way, you get more space to put images in our heads, make us feel emotions. This just feels too brief to make us feel anything or think for a long time after we finish reading. Overall though, very good poem.

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~mdc01957 Dec 21, 2012

Apart from the title, this looks so nicely done. And in few words to boot.

=tearsofbreakingglass Dec 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thanks

The title was kind of a fail, but it was the only thingI could come up with unfortunately.

~mdc01957 Dec 22, 2012

Still, it's not bad. ^^

=tearsofbreakingglass Dec 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Well thank you (:

~mdc01957 Dec 23, 2012

Sure thing!

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Chained

Chainedby =tearsofbreakingglass

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