pheaux

Tonight I cradle a star to sleep, Taking their light for myself to keep, I lay them to bed To lie with the dead, And listen as their siblings weep.

poetry or prose who fuckin knows

Hey Wanderer, Hey Wanderer, Why do you go? You leave this great city Ruled by King Cicero. What could be better Than these streets paved with gold? Hey Wanderer, Hey Wanderer, Why do you go? Hey Wanderer, Hey Wanderer, Where do you go? Do you leave to the mountains, The hills, or the snow? Where could you travel That you've never known? Hey Wanderer, Hey Wanderer, Where do you go? Hey Wanderer, Hey Wanderer, What do you know? Do you know of the sky Or the great earth below? How can you wander Yet rarely get far? Hey Wanderer, Hey Wanderer, What do you know? Hey Wanderer, Hey Wanderer, How can you go? When you know of this city Ruled by Kin

As I hovered in the sky but what should catch my eye other than a black speck against the green grass sea. I alighted in the waves and what could I see: Her skin was dark Her smile was warm and in Her eyes I saw Her soul. Uncover your face She asked of me. I could not: my mouth was fangs and blood from the numbers I had fought. Whispers from the thousands I had chased Dripped from my pores. My flesh is not flesh but flame I cried My eyes are not eyes but suns. My wings are molten My hands burn bright But yet I am dim against your light. She held my hands and caressed my cheek. If you think I am bright She said Then what must I think of yo

Sometimes I think of poems in the shower Lines stitch together seamlessly Ideas flow easily like water from the showerhead The words burn in my chest and overflow until they drip drip drip from my mouth and follow the water down the drain

I am not a girl but a God. I am the Remains of a Star with Molten Gold for Blood. I am the Ancestor of a Moon that wanders through Space. I am Creation. I am Destruction. I am Preservation. I am Ruin. I am the Being that brought Light into this World, and I am the Being who will take the Light of this World. I am the Northern Winds and the Northern Lights. I am the Southern Skies and the Southern Plains. I am the Western Peaks and the Western Trees. I am the Eastern Sun and the Eastern Heat. I am a Child of the Moon, Sibling of Owls and Wolves. I am a Child of the Sun, Sibling of Crows and Cats. I may be all this and more. But I am not

They’ve got stars in their eyes And the galaxy in their smile With their tongue they speak lies Because their beauty could not hide for even a while. The plants once waged war Just to whisper their name And the sun warmed its core With their grace all to blame With every breath they take The stars grow brighter And every silence they break Makes my burdens lighter A whisper of words in pink And a burst of laughter in blue The stars blush and wink When they smile as they do The angels in the sky By their word do abide And if I were to die I would want to be by their side

There speaks of an angel, a destroyer of stars, with galaxies caught in their jaws. The moon hovers in their eyes, one pale as snow, the other darker than coal. Their hair lies in tangles, a dark web of curls that ensnare straying planets too close. The sun was caught on a string, a glowing orb of light, and now rests upon their neck. A warm hand belies a cold heart, but the brightest smile could never hide their fangs.

What do you know of the affairs of machines? The pumping of pistons, The coiling of springs. Oh, what do you know? What do you know of the lives of machines? The grinding of gears, The toiling of cogs. Oh, what do you know? What do you know of the limitations of machines? They never eat, They never sleep, They never lie, They never cheat. They aren’t prone to e mo tion.