💠 𝕆𝔽𝔽𝕀ℂ𝕀𝔸𝕃 Poetry Corner - (may contain adult material)

[MissKitti]

Thorned Rose
I remember a velvet blue rose
In a garden of scarlet beauty
Each petal delicate to the touch
I stole a glance from her eyes
Two endless blue seas
We danced in a moonless night
A blazing star in my darkest night

I remember enjoying the silence with you
You painted a picture of daring beauty
Of a new life, where the silence won't be so loud
As I hold you now, I remember
How twinkling stars sung your name
How the moon was graced with your smile
You're the reason song birds took flight
Bravely, towards a velvety blue night

You had my heart
My gladly blind heart
I confused every smile with happiness
Every touch with affection
I waited for you
But you never came

I should've stopped when I could
But I never could have
I let you go now. But remember, dear one
Your smile will always haunt my soul

by: ArtificeBlade​

 

[MissKitti]

In The Deep
I lay in deep, dark waters, never will I find my way home
A hollowed doll in a howling void, boundless and bare
Dangling in senseless articulation. I am a broken rhythm
Every decision already made. Every path already taken
I saw a string of memories; colours moving like silk

I saw a police cruiser on a clear December night
Red and blue sirens flashed in a lonely midnight road
A truck driver with too much to drink
A mom driving home through a familiar road
Windshield shattered; each piece found a target
A voice broke from deep scarlet red to dead silence

I saw fluorescent lights and white coats
False promises made, but faces told the truth
Dear eyes like broken glass; tears crashing down around me
People I knew; phantoms from a distant past
I felt the hour of departure; the quiet before the storm

Emotions flashed before my eyes
Smiles and tears. Hopes and dreams
Tonight, I close my eyes and fear not the abyss
For I gave my life for the ones who gave me theirs
Tonight, I close my eyes and fade into blue

by: ArtificeBlade​

 

[MissKitti]

Poem by Trinketbell​

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[MissKitti]

THE LONG DARK

The Long Dark is beckoning my name
I stare at my sins in shame,
Have no doubt, the future isn’t bright
Have no worries of my blight

I have to move on
The Morning Sun, or dawn; It is far off
The cold: inevitable
Fresh Sunshine: inevitable

The fake heat, light, from the flame: useless
The cold that bites to the bone, ruthless
The Short Light, tiny light, is here
I stand out, tall and proud
The whispers in my ear, loud and clear


The Long Dark, empty and cold, shrouds my fear.

BY: aristaZ​

 

[MissKitti]

To Be Called A Man

If you want to be called a man
you’ll never stop even for a single moment••
to fight for peace and justice.
You get out on the street, you scream,
your lips will get bloody from yelling,
your face will get bloody from bullets,
but not a step behind.
Every scream of yours is a rock thrown
on the windows of war mongers.
Every gesture of yours is like
ruining injustice.
And make no mistake:
Don’t let yourself been carried away
not for a single moment.
By just relaxing awhile and recalling
your childhood years,
you let thousands of kids slaughtered,
when playing harmlessly in the cities.
If you perish just a moment looking at sunset,
tomorrow people will be dying at the night of war.
If you stop for a moment to dream,
then millions of human dreams
will turn to dust under the bombshells.
You don’t have time,no time for yourself,
if you want to be called a man.
If you want to be called a man
you may need to leave your mother,
your beloved woman or your child.
You will not hesitate.
You will decline your lamp and your bread,
you will refuse your night resting
on your door sill, for the rough road
heading towards tomorrow,
you won’t be coward or be afraid of nothing.
I know it’s beautiful listening to a harmonica,
at night, to gaze on a star and dream,
it’s beautiful leaning on the red mouth of your love,
and hearing her say her dreams about the future,
but you must bid farewell to all this and start over,
for you are responsible for all harmonicas of the world,
for all the stars, for all the lamps and for all the dreams,
if you want to be called a man.
If you want to be called a man
you may need to stay in prison for twenty or more years
but you, even in prison you will remember always
Spring, your mother and the world,
you , even within the square metre of your cell,
you will go on walking the road of yours on earth.
And when,in the vast silence of the night,
you will be knocking on your cell wall with your finger,
from the opposite side of the wall,
Spain will be answering to you.

You, even when your years go passing by,
and your hair turns white,you will not get old.

You, even in prison,every morning you will be younger,
for always we’ll be starting new fights in the world.

If you want to be called a man,
you must be able of dying any morning,
late at night in isolation you’ll write
a long and touchy letter to your mother,
you’ll write on the wall,your initials and the date,
and a simple word too:
Peace.

As if you had to write down your whole life story.
To be able of dying at any morning,
to be able of standing before the six rifles,
as if you stood before the whole future
to be able at the battery of guns killing you
to hear millions of ordinary people singing
and struggling for peace.

If you want to be called a man…

BY: Tasos Leivaditis

Spoiler: VIDEO CLIP OF POEM

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[MissKitti]

HEADPHONES

Through sound, they bring silence
It is isolation
When I desire it
A peaceful sensation
On my own, in the quiet
My preoccupation.


Through sound, I can now see
As if from the outside
The world, it surrounds me
Passing, I now see time
They help me to feel free
As if my time were mine.


Sometimes I need to breathe
And watch society.

by greenconverse​

 

[MissKitti]

THE FARMERS DAUGHTER

You got to break the ice if you want a drink of water.
It's been nice, but the Winter's lasting longer.
And you're feeling old ain't gettin' any younger.
And you want some food, but all you get is hunger.
All you get is hunger.
All you get is hunger.
Well if you want some milk. You got to ask the Farmer's Daughter
And She'll regale you with tales about her father.
Her stride is weak, but her steps will never falter.
And when she comes, She'll be drenched in holy water.
Drenched in holy water.
Drenched in holy water.
If you want some rest, you got to walk a ragged mile.
And, take a look at the taxes you did file.
There's an indiscretion in your social security number.
And it keeps you up; disturbin' all your slumber
Disturbin' all your slumber.
Disturbin' all your slumber.
You went back home, but the town's been ripped asunder.
And, you're still reeling from the spell that you've been under.
When someone says: "You're the witch, and I'm the Hunter."
You can't see the storm, but you can hear the thunder.
You can hear the thunder.
You can hear the thunder.
By:
militant_poet​

 

[MissKitti]

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Gotta share one with you. I came up with it and wrote it down while having a smoke at work (yes, it actually took me less than 10 minutes), some 15-ish years ago. I was around 20 at the time, betting like mad and smoking marry jane more than any person should. The original is in my native language (Croatian), so please bear with me on the English translation. I tried to make it rhyme (which proved to be more difficult than I first thought) so some verses are not exactly and literally translated. But the general idea behind the poem is the same, so here it goes:

Croatian Language

English Language

​ "Pušioničari (ili ti pjesma o klađenju)"​ kada u kladionicu uđu i ponudu vide odigrat razne tekme oni se ne stide jedinica ili dvojka ili neriješeni čisti odigravaju parove na dnevnoj listi no prije nego li sve te parove stave stanu kod klupice i na njoj se raskrave izvade papira, duvana i "zelje" zamotaju brzo i uslijedi veselje i onda se te nadimljene lude svako malo zbunjeni čude što nakon toliko zelenoga dima sa njihovim listićima nešto ne štima​

​ "Smokers / Suckers (or a song about betting)"​ When they enter at bookies and offer they see they bet on games of different variety on a home team or guest or a straight draw playing the matches from that offer they saw but before on all these games they bet they stop at the bench and on it they set bring out the paper, plug and "green for flight" roll one quickly and soon comes the delight and then after the green was abused every now and then they end up confused that after so much of the green smoke their betting tickets end up as a joke​

by: Gljivuns​