Leopard’s paws white like scolecite stones faceted to fingernails to the death of the wild, a resemblance to a beast, a blaze of light, and to the gods, their hand in life and death; feral blood, extinction, a feeling of a dream in crystal architect reading the skylight, gathering life in the leaves during the… Read More His eyes.
Cecilia paused. She could never remember their names. Perhaps she is never told; perhaps she is made to forget. Briefly wondering how many have come and gone, she then decides that names are ultimately inconsequential, before lamenting sotto voce, “What’s in a name…” They are only labels. She’d been given many labels by the therapists,… Read More “Ophilia” By a.d.matthias.
Over a month ago, I wrote a post about collaborating together on a poem project with the theme freedom. I provided the first four lines, leaving the rest of the poem up to you. The collaboration has ended and I’m beyond excited to share the results of our work together. It is a beautiful piece… Read More Collaboration Poem Completed.
Hello everyone. First of all, I want to thank each and everyone one of you for your participation on my blog—through each like, comment, reblog, and submission—it has not been unnoticed. I thank everyone for giving me the encouragement to keep writing and posting, along with helping me keep this blog alive. I thought I… Read More Poem Collaboration! (Closed).
tyranny blinded by the ghost of an isthmus, dark eyes fed upon your laugh like a poison to surge, the chill when you look at me; the dust of the horizon shapes cruelty. Reaped in the quiet like a violent beast as solitude precedes covering the ashes blistering on the pale shore this void of… Read More Tyranny.
desire sails the salt winds in the dark sleep of eternity within the bloodshed of the sea effusion de sang dans les océans chantez votre chanson between the recluse of cherry dark blossoms, sleep shatters memories through the sea. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
isolate the modernities carnations touch the wind, mocking them, like a cigarette in the abandoned sunlight, the entropy, monstering god-like shores fragmenting ends of the mind, traversing the watery rock for the sea, the mouth left behind from the cave, teeming with blood; the mountain defines the reflection in your eyes, where have you been?… Read More Modernities.
the dark slithers, betraying the scarlet moon into the mellifluous hunger in each haze, a new mother of spring, the hills, the silence of untiring wanton blood broken between each finger and bone, nesting in the shadows in immense maddened breath across the perennial wound that dispels with the rain and alluvium struck with the… Read More Dissonance of a dream.
The dark winged wisp in the cold, into the silence of the sea. The ocean awakes into the shapes of light gone, part of one sipping the rain there’s one season alone. There’s glory into the sun winding the red into the willows lost into the mind of cool light, Writhing into the present blue… Read More Into the cold.
Hidden in senses, we, alone, are disenchanted in the sleep blue mist, as an expanse of ghosts and dreams never had. Leave behind our minds, the dispensation of a white trance in the universe; leave behind the resinous trees secreting mist where no space is left. The shadows of our mind, displaced in amber, consumed… Read More Hidden.
White mists flee into A ghost of April showers On lustrous flowers. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
The likeness of snow-covered heaps on desert-searing nights Of a scathing wind that cursed a name and brought it By the crook of a deserted nest sunbathed by bare hands, Seducing a whistle to the primeval waters that shoehorn rocks Reflected with an awakening flutter within a cold room With lip of ice and loitering… Read More Mes mots dans ce rêve.
Mastication—sleeping When the dark rose over And met the ribbing ice. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Photo prompt response to Crimson’s Creative Challenge #69 Word count: 101. As though the sleep mist has trembled in my hands In the distant overflows of shadows, Descending in lament, These shadows of our lament; We walk into the light, We walk to drown in celestial darkness, Our nourishing gardens In chrome-like bowls of red… Read More Dreams we’ve never had.
Written for the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest #61 Our lightless fire This love is fair with keen appetite Acidification Our magical hyperbole We avoid and clean in the scullery Of faint stale smells of beer Sanctified by an ancient skull Seized, penetrated by anguish Fever of the jaguar In its charm, Possessed much, blood-faced Fairer… Read More They murder with a kiss.
I wake to the darkest light; the marshes cry in the mist, And my eyes fix to the shaking of the wind, grazing the footfall by the permafrost, It is a maddening world out there—the roads beaten, unlit, Crawling of a cedar’s blood Slaved in an undressed pottery polished in white lines Like the sense… Read More We’ve lived nothing as a dream.
Strangled in shades, like caved falling fingers by the creeping river Plunged too brightly in the shadows forever, like forever meets the mist In the emptiness of the humming autumn red fruited and lowly kissed On the swath of land, haunts them, hunts them in the dwelling giver Of promised rapture, the vowel of drunken… Read More Like forever meets the mist.
Abandon all hope, ye who decides to read this. This is written for this week’s Terrible Poetry Contest. The topic is of first loves/first crushes. I also might now live up to the Little Writing Workshop of Horrors name after all. Enjoy. Your eyes, Your hair, Your cheeks, Your stare. Fart jokes and burps, Spitting… Read More Is This Love?
Written for The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest. My love, as the still light shines on your lice Ah, I smell the onions matted on your breath. What else? Your nose hairs are threads to soon slice, And when I leave I thank god I didn’t retch. My beloved, a shore of love passes through me… Read More My Beloved.
Winter roads As the air collapses Into grazed Reformed minds Darker than apparition Words alone. Disconnected, Wish I could’ve known What to say As silence Lowers on the dark wood boughs In humanity. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.