syntaxandsemantics

syntaxandsemantics:

pride is the way streets are painted
hot in the sun that glares a little too directly.
seek the shade and forgive the summer
a little brash, but youth is bold
by definition and still learning
the way the weather works when 
there are no books to tell you
how to make the clouds smile 
with more feeling, like the sky
really understands the colour blue
and all its connotations,
written in the way the light 
hits the concrete, a loving chuck.

mistergauche

Equinox & Solstice

mistergauche:

If we’re supposed to be magnets,
What a sorry half am I;
I’m stranded beneath these eastern skies,
Where my thoughts cannot connect.

You wait beyond the Artic Circle-
Expectations turned to stone
While all the stars fade down to purple-
Once bright as gold, now gone.

They say that hearts are born to wander;
To ride the waves, to tame the flames,
To tie our wrists with ether’s bonds. I wonder
What they’d think of us. What they’d name
This thing that should have been,
That could have been,
That might have never meant to be
More than a wish, more than a dream-
I cannot dare to ponder what I mean
When I stop to think of you.
I shall not stop for rain, nor thunder,
Until I find the piece of you
I thought that I could never lose,
Nor ever leave behind.

7-weeks

Residue of you

valleyoftheallie:

I stumbled upon your hometown today;
I passed that street
It’s mocking me
Tempting me to pull some kind of trigger.
It’s sickening how beautiful that beach is,
And how it’s ruined because of you
Your dirty finger prints cover everything out here
But I swear I’ll make you disappear
Erase the things you made me hear
You’re dead to me
You’re nothing but a nauseating memory
of mistakes I wish I hadn’t made
Oh well,
I say, spitting on your grave

digitalspell

modern convenience

mermaidsbite:

vapor into air conditioner
my secrets into ether

cool my skin in a tomb of denial
outside ring trials of gathering bees

slip dolphin skin beneath a wave
insulated slickness of perfumed sea

climate of sonar limbic mound
sound of mind inclined to motion

longing for ears of alien voices
breathing on surface sinking to live

somewhere beneath crashing gasps
tides slow to currents, souls feel the deep

- mermaidsbite / Christiane Lopez