Hello readers! Heya. Hi… Welcome to my poetry! Or at least some of it. Now, I would have a fancy little introduction here, but you’re not here to hear my extremely eloquent and well done filler intro. You’re here to read poetry… I think?

THERE IS NO MEANING 

for the night shall crown the undescriptive,

details dodge around while anointed by the stars. 

the darkness whispers immunity 

(Their history tells a different story)

for how shall the wind answer when all the doors they meet are shut

to cradle compassionate dreams?

where could the sky grant its love when the response is slumber?

even if onyx were to escape into the cruel daylight,

the stupor continues. 

WEDDED

sterling silver, 

bright as shine of moon,

gleams, wedded to its owner and its lover

You are kind, I swear they whispered

across the sky

they hinted,

moon covets comfort,

then I shall warm you. 

an echo

like music unheard

now—

silver dollars which were spit into the sky 

fell gently on sea-soul ink,

imitation of sky’s heart above

though,

shall one live beyond the other,

for comfort beyond stars is reliance,

their relationship is doomed,

for artemis and apollo find pride in independence

hand to hand, 

cold like contract, 

day meets night,

and

bitter bright light

‘luminates 

dusk and dawn,

where love lusts battle 

and is not sated without war

peace welcomes separation, 

like silly, beaten chess 

the final stopping point.

seasons change when moon and sun

cannot.

DREAMS

doom is an outsider when i am the night,

where coveted dreams hold on to lonely lovers.

spite and anger rest, however wary, buried beneath the ground

instead streaking beautiful indigo and gossamer winds for the dreamers

who use sleep as an escape.

DIVINE

and though the sky sings of sweet summation

and the stars croon in heavens and the like,

they would not nor ever come close to the divine hymns

that were spilt upon this world this day

and if ever i were to hear it once again

life itself would rejoice

and lay down its own divine ribbons in ceremony

CHANCE

the sanctioned, colored strokes of a king-kissed sky

fall together in mosaic

building together an idea of something that is more than interesting,

it is an intangible subsiding of a terror,

of a grasping, issuing climb to the apotheosis of a garmented

dream

there is

something that is lacking,

is it the queen or the rook of dawn?

the cascading, willowing eve of a day never to come

binds together frenzied ideas of a personified charade

who will always introduce its maiden,

chance

CALENDULAS

in wane sympathy, the moon dulls.

inky, splattered onyx flows idly,

fragments of Heaven go still

the night comes to a close, a final wish

of tragedy bestowed.

fate’s grandest regrets

sip sweetly at misery.

love turns rigid at dawn’s touch.

the sun urges reckless dreams into history,

the finest touch to reluctant memories.