Tag: poet

Crash, 

And the glass fell.

Chips of blinding white

Where I thought the light was,

Distance where I thought the horizon was,

Half a shattered mural still intact 

With shards of painted stars I used to wish upon.

Was the sky there all along?

by justkatiemarie

Senses

Can the red of my voice be heard,

Can you feel the cry of my kind,

Can you taste the paper cut sting of the words

Or see all the thoughts of my mind?

Can you listen for all of the motions

And wait for the turn of the tenses,

Can you smell all the burning emotions

Or does smoke simply throw off the senses? 

by justkatiemarie

KnighttimeĀ 

Moonbeams brighten night’s shadows; 

I count stars like sheep.

A pane of glass locks that world from mine,

As a dangling toy afore a child. 

They cry out for me,

Those flickering street lights,

With the agitated chirps of crickets.

What else is awake?

Time passes like an hour hand-

The clock is as frozen as the algid night air. 

What now,

What brings sleep to restive minds?

My eyes are knights with a quest,

To seek the means by which I might meet sweet repose.

They scour the sky for an opiate,

Diving deep into the ebony ocean.

Fireflies are the lotus flowers of nighttime,

Lulling the sailors into the drowsy state of subconscious. 

They catch fire like paper,

Erupting into flame and ceasing.  

Scanning the watercolor tree line,

I exhale and dissolve into the night.

by justkatiemarie