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*echopetal
reading while the world burnsNewest
OrpheusThere’s something poetic about you that gets lost in translation.Orpheus
You’re Grecian, but to compare you to Adonis, Apollo, or Ares
seems ridiculous, so most people write you off as an illusion, a disappointment.
I’ve seen through the mists formed of aged Scotch and years of regret.
It wasn’t by chance I sat in the cold dark with you that summer night.
What demons have you fought when no one else was looking?
How have you survived?
In the depths of midnight, with no
by *echopetal
Hide in Our ShellsWe skulk on the shores of ponds, dining on misery and turtle soup.Hide in Our Shells
We draw quite a crowd. They want to bask in our dejected tedium, and we let them.
Why should we bother to stop them? Too busy sighing and singing to care what they’re staring at, that would be the pair of us.
Another round of lobster quadrille might send them packing, but we’d much rather turn our backs.
Recline a little further, friend. Our bed is as soft as iron, our hearts as whole as a stained glass window, the night was made for mockery.
by *echopetal
Fall Into the Rabbit HoleElusive.Fall Into the Rabbit Hole
A shadow darting around a corner, a glimpse of something I’ve never known.
If I follow you, my life will be filled with teas and cakes, garden parties, croquet lawns, talking flowers, playing cards that walk, unbirthdays, friendships.
There will be moments where I will feel
TEN FEET TALL
and moments
where I will feel so small, that I will not be worth noticing.
If there was time for hesitation, you wouldn’t brandish
such a lavish pocket watch. &
by *echopetal
Decelerating CautionAt 16, I got my first taste for speed.Decelerating Caution
Newly printed license in my wallet I pressed down on the gas pedal. Adrenaline pumped into my veins.
Driving became my escape.
Nothing could make me Angry, Sad, or Afraid, when my speedometer read over 70 mph.
At 17, I left home. In the city there are no open roads, nowhere to drive;
I learned to cope.
At 18, speeding was still second nature.
At 19, speeding was reserved for when I was late for work or curfew.
At 20, I am helpless. Clutching the wheel, &n
by *echopetal
HelianthusI’m a conundrum, a mystic gypsy hidden in outstretched petals.Helianthus
Alluring.
Captivation, devastation.
One word answers suit me best.
When you drew me, you said you couldn’t draw my smirk the way it should be, so you silenced my sardonicism with a scarf.
The truth was you tried to create me, but you couldn’t contain me.
I’m a sunflower, watch me bloom.
by *echopetal
Climb the Mushroom StalkWhen I dream at night you recline on a mushroom, and I rest my head in your lap.Climb the Mushroom Stalk
Your skin, blue folds, smooth but wrinkled, is soft to the touch. I trace the invisible scars on your surface, marks that only I can see.
I feel your fingers turning the ringlets in my hair, as you inhale and exhale in the same rhythmic cycle. When you whisper your wisdom to me, your words hang visibly in the air, wisps waiting for me to breathe them in.
I never do.
Every night, I climb the mushroom stalk, and you murmur qu
by *echopetal
Unfinished PrintingFebruary 14, 1964 – Funeral services for John L. Bright, aged 32, who was killed Friday in an automobile wreck will be held on Sunday.Unfinished Printing
He was driving. He was drunk. When he ran off the road, he drove under a low bridge, chopped the top of his head off; took two friends with him, one survived.
April 1985 – The victim’s name has not been released; but
witnesses have stated he announced he would drive into the first oncoming vehicle he saw. Norman Bright, of Maysville, is not being charged at this time.
by *echopetal
Love, HateI. You never know how much love means until you lose it.Love, Hate
II. When we were young,
you braided my hair with flowers.
III. You smelled like perfume
when you rested your head on my shoulder, wrapped from head to toe in our fleece blankets. We were tired after dancing on the desks.
IV. You never know how much hate hurts until you receive it.
V. I pressed my lips to your cheek once. You flinched.
VI. Your breath smelled of soy sauce and ramen, your meal of choice that month. Your bed was cold,
by *echopetal
Random Favourites
Not homeMy eyes open. Where am I?Not home
This is not home.
I get up, I realize. I need to work.
This is not where I'm supposed to be.
I eat. I bathe. Routine, routine.
This is not where I wanted to be.
I get up and leave this shelter. I arrive.
This is not where you are.
I toil, I work. I wait until I leave again.
This is not where I should be.
I close my eyes. I see you.
This is not how this should end.
I open them once more. Where am I?
This is not
by =ReinaMirasaki
RoarI love it when you roar.Roar
It's not as loud as a lion's, Nor is it as powerful as a bear's.
In this metallic jungle, You are merely a cat. A small one, at that.
Tigers look down on you, Elephants dare to trample you, Wolves want to outrun you.
But when you howl, I feel energy in me. You sound powerful.
You are not a mere kitten, You are a dragon. Soaring the skies with your wings, The air rushing around your sleek body.
You are my dragon, powerful and fast, even if the world looks at you and
by =ReinaMirasaki
Heart's TerrainSugar-spun princesses and knights, licorice-twisted villains...Heart's Terrain
All wound up in a music box, a castle in the clouds...
A lighthouse in the storm.
Those childish fantasies
have shifted to
adolescence:
A hallway of
open doors....
Kisses escalated by the increasing rain
Plane tickets and wisteria-covered walls whispering temptations, brimming with ideas
Temples and water springs of sweet lullabies and hot blood, ties to a place I could call
by ~mistsofavalon4ever
Looks Aren't EverythingTell me how your bones are hollow and decayed how the pale skin that stretches oh so gracefully over them, Isn't really translucent But it's really quite good at covering Grungy deterioration and rotting decadenceLooks Aren't Everything
Describe your bruises for me, like elegant accidents, like pretty flowers that color your entire canvas blooming in a cloudy array over satin white
by ~wastedxxwishes
Who Do You Think You Are?You are:Who Do You Think You Are?
Exactly four time zones away But that's only if you're counting by earthly standards (Since you've always lived about two yesterdays ahead of me)
You are:
Mine. But that doesn't quite cover it I own you and the crooked scratches up and down your arm (I've taken possession of them, seeing that you called me up a night ago and told me I was the cause)
You are:
Coming in and out of focus I figured last night that I should pay you back some how, (I don't deserve this ownership, so I thought I'd even out the playing field a b
by ~wastedxxwishes
Candy ShopThree nights of crystalizing silence PaceCandy Shop
Peace Since the wind blows, there's not been a time I will step into the sunlight Beady eyes bring dreadful forthcoming No twitter of feet Beneath the brush My soft My soothed Crowning deliquence, abiding crime Knuckles of leaves Cracking in correspondence L o v e
oms o r Twisted mortal sin Contershading candlelight
Soft
Lo!
by *BellaEzrebetFang
Do you think poetry should never need an explanation?
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: North Carolina
- Interests: Living, Being, Avoiding an Existential Crisis
- Favourite movie: Charade, The Philadelphia Story, X-Men, Clue, LotR, PotC
- Favourite band or musician: Switchfoot, relient k, Anberlin, Falling Up, The Beatles, Kevin Max, Coconut Records
- Favourite genre of music: I'm loving the Indie stuff more and MORE
- Favourite poet or writer: Wilde, Austen, Barrie, Bronte, Christie, Poe, John Green, Kevin Max
- Favourite game: Apples to Apples (addictive doesn't do it justice)
- Favourite cartoon character: Scooby Doo :)
- Personal Quote: "We can slit our wrists, bleed and die for each other but we cant save us from ourselves."
- Tools of the Trade: Pen, Pencil, Laptop, whatever's handy
- Website: http://echopetal.livejournal.com/
Fave News
- 75 Daily Lit Deviations for June 3, 2009 - Jun 2, 2009
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- 66 Daily Lit Deviations for May 30, 2009 - May 29, 2009
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« With Canon, You can!
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For diamonds do appear to be
Just like broken glass to me
panic! northern downpour
--
"The poetry of the earth is never dead." - John Keats
PHOTO CONTEST: "Red White and Blue" [link]
=camerawhore Photo Club
=versebyverse For Poets
=ArtForTheEscape Art to Escape Illness
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