GARTERS RED
SILKEN
ONCE CARESSED
LAY LIMP
FROST COVERED

WHITE SKIN PEARLS
LANGOUR
VISIONLESS

WOUNDS BREATH
A VAPOR

SIPHONED

GALLOWS STEP
HOODED LIFE
STRETCHES THE ROPE TAUGHT
SEALED

ISLANDS

Somewhere in space and time
I lost a life that was mine.
all things seem strange to me
suddenly
I don't fit any longer
in a world
of cozy corners.

My days are understated
and the silence sinks deep
into isolation

I feel the edge of glass
cutting words
indifference
cold and sharp
rip and tear
into my heart.

You're the breath,
the scent I inhale
with air to give me
a life after death.

I live you.

You're the warmth
the blue that shows
through overcast,
and the eyes
of the heart.

I live you.

Let our hearts
escape to reach
where nothing
would breach
and preach
but love.

I live you.

------

The original by Mark

I live you…

Oh! to have that final word !
for that entire nations gird
and go to war
how absurd

And you and I as well as him
so wish to have it over them
that final word, whatever for
truth and rightness become blurred

And diplomats and treaties too
seek it ever and anew
sifting rubble and the char
resulting from that final word

Will you give up child and wife
drive them and friends out of your life
'till all have been expelled afar
'cause you Must have that drunkard's word?

Canto Eleven ~ The boy returns to the battlefield in search of the young mother’s corpse.
He seeks the scent of the rose that had permeated the place where she had died and comes aided by a magical spell the witch has shown him. It will warn of spirits that linger near. Specifically hers, but also the few others remaining that could possibly interfere. The prospect excites him, for the spell allows him to feel as well as see the souls of the recent dead. Long terrified of his own emotions, he revels in the bliss and agony of others.

Night staggers
the ruin of shells beneath her
steps

the blood of stars
from her goblet

a forest full of hunger
wet from a stream
drawn like a string

a bow of season
damp

Jagged blade
Smooth skin
A blank canvas
Pallet of pain

One cut
Makes her nauseas
But gives a little relief
Two cuts
The second larger than the first
Bares her empty soul

Third cut
In just the right spot
Lets the hurt pour out
Internal torment
Finally set free

The dizzyness is overwhelming
As numbness takes over
For the first time
She feels nothing
Transparent as a Ghost

For the first time
The heartache can't get in

Can you poets out there help punctuate this piece?

SPRING FEVER (theory of relativity shop)
Submitted by scribbler on Fri, 2013-05-31 02:37

Brothers and sisters of this blood path
our similarities of bled roads and mountains
that serendipity might turn seriousness to a laugh
'cause we each the ebb and flow of one fountain;

Together our souls search out for the cave
where boisterous smiles can hermit and hibernate,
in dreams we'll hold hands again
rejoice the company, sleeping fervent.

Awake! We forget our platelets tie
blind to our shared donkey
that excites as a mountains steepness dies
then creep moaning when the road comes shonky;