Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Tip tap. Tip tap,
Beauty from the fingers,
The aroma in my mind is the sound that always lingers.
The never ending strum of the strings in the evening. Waking in the morning after dreams and still believing.
Nothing is out of reach giving as a warning
our minds can dance and our hearts can preach. But hey its still the morning
 Sep 2017 Anthony Perry
Lady ꓘ
You can't throw skin on a wound,
You should patiently wait for it to heal.
But when you're impatient and desperate
you will find anything to cover it with.
And that's the sad thing about loving another being too soon.
They're not the scar you wait for,
They're just the band-aid.
You planted flowers in my heart,
By whispering sweet-nothings in my ear..
I closed off the gates,
As I chose not to hear..

But gardens grew as you tried every way..
I did not know how to stop them,
I did not know what to say..

But the sun disappeared,
and skies turned to grey..
The flowers slowly wilted,
when you kept away..

I wasn't so sure of your affection..
And with close inspection,
I could't tell if those flowers were real or fake.
Still it does not mean that my heart won't ache..
 Sep 2017 Anthony Perry
Lady ꓘ
I do not fall victim to my pain
That is not why I write
When I heal, you will hear the groans and the moans
Of my stitching  
My battle wounds do not go unnoticed
My pain does not leave in silence
My transformation is gruesome
I digest myself before I rebuild myself
I outgrow my own skin
Growth becomes a metamorphosis
to my mind and body
My old cells self destruct
I even develop some spare parts
And through the process of self love
I step out of my embodiment  
Reincarnated
As an absolute masterpiece
 Sep 2017 Anthony Perry
Aspen S
tear stained pillow cases and dreary eyes replaced a smile wider than an ocean and a heart made of gold.

2. father pressed its hands on your back, signaling you wouldn't stay alive much longer.

3. beer bottles and hashish made its way into the empty caverns of your mouth, and i didn't stop you.

4. broken homes, no, broken houses, were no longer part of our safety, but rather taped cardboard boxes became the alternative.

5. self medication and bleeding bones transformed your flesh garden; scars and bruises were your best friends.

6. dreams of life were shattered, instead buying cans of green beans and carrots were the only goals you aspired to meet.

7. black and blue nail polish, broken toes, and mushy tobacco destroyed the walls of our make - shift shelter.

8. scapegoats blamed you for crashing the windows of their soul.

9. steel bars became an everyday ritual for father and there was no way to raise kids without a job.

10. your parental custody was revoked and the demons you gave life to moved to an orphanage, at least that's what it felt like.

11. water boiled in your brain; you couldn't stand the loneliness and the guilt of the inability to love.

12. your children moved once more, isolation had finally consumed your carcass of a body.

13. not one or two, but three of your baby ducklings turned against you.

14. 'mommy' rapidly turned to 'mom' and ultimately, 'mother.' realization punched your organs to pieces. they're was no longer any love in your cold heart.
for anybody who has a mother or father that was never there for you, that abused you, and that abandoned you. they do not define you. you are beautiful, lovely, and worthy of love. it'll be okay. things may be hard for you now, but eventually, everything will get better.
These poems do not live: it's a sad diagnosis.
They grew their toes and fingers well enough,
Their little foreheads bulged with concentration.
If they missed out on walking about like people
It wasn't for any lack of mother-love.

O I cannot explain what happened to them!
They are proper in shape and number and every part.
They sit so nicely in the pickling fluid!
They smile and smile and smile at me.
And still the lungs won't fill and the heart won't start.

They are not pigs, they are not even fish,
Though they have a piggy and a fishy air --
It would be better if they were alive, and that's what they were.
But they are dead, and their mother near dead with distraction,
And they stupidly stare and do not speak of her.
 Sep 2017 Anthony Perry
A Shuli
I Am
 Sep 2017 Anthony Perry
A Shuli
I'm a lamb-- with the eyes of a lion,
A bull-- with the heart of a dove;
A Tyger; with the hooves of a poet.
I am a stag-- with the antlers of a Texas Longhorn.

I am blessed with the sight of a dinosaur; But the vision of a dragon.
I am the wind, I fell trees;
I caress cheeks.

I come like a lover’s memory.
I go like sorrow--may it never run its fingers down your spine,
As it has mine.

Smile, I want You to know:
We can fly with my wings of a falcon,
Can pierce the silence of the night with my Eagle's cry.

So Know me
Know me like an echo knows the distant mountains.
And Remember me.
Remember me like the golden grass remembers the wind.
©2017 all rights reserved
Next page