[x]

Love is a PhoenixI have seen nothing more tragic,
Than watching love die.
Enduring it’s painfully fade,
At stubbornly clings to life

The slow death of a love,
That’s filled with years of life.
Or the sudden snap,
As it blinks away in a lover’s eye.

It doesn’t go easy,
And it doesn’t go fast.
It goes out fighting,
Because love was made to last.

It is a brilliant flame,
Drowned in water.
It clings to the air,
With all its dying embers.

Yes, I have seen no sadder sight,
Than watching love as it dies.
But I have been blessed to gazed upon no otherworldly scene,
Than watching love be born again, anew and free.

All I Will Ever BeThe fear that I let hold me back
Buried me in my shame
Desperately I waited for a second chance
But that chance never came

Small and helpless I glare at fear
As he stands looking down at me
If I let him continue to lead my life
This is all I will ever be

The Devil's WayMake a bargain, sell your soul.
Condemn it to the deepest hole
That ever came of fact or thought.
For such a price ought can be bought.
Just sign right here. This dotted line.
Cut the last ethereal twine
That ties your body and your mind.
Don't you wonder what you'll find?
Be free of all your earthly toil
And later you will surely boil
In tar as deep and thick as night
From which escapes no saving light.
So what's your choice? It's time to choose.
What will you gain? What will you lose?
Sign right here and you can say
"I lived my life the Devil's way".

Ocean's CallRays of the morning Sun tear the veil of mist
Ships slumber by the shores, waiting to be awoken
Ocean whispers while they slumber of her beauty unspoken
The wooden bodies by her waves are longfully kissed
The beacon closed her fiery eye, the Sun laid her to sleep
But the slumber of the ships will soon and slowly break
When the ships have spread their sails, then they'll be awake
Not because of the chiming bells, but by the Ocean's weep
And the arms of safe lands will not embrace them anymore
When they hearken Ocean's calls and her secrets hidden
One by one, they will leave their safest home - the shore
But perils lurk in dulcet calls of the Ocean so enchanting
Nevertheless, the ships will leave, for freedom is not forbidden
They shall sail forevermore, mesmerized by the eternal chanting

HeartHello, you’re new, shall I show you around?
You will feel at home here, I assure you,
You know this place, it is a sacred ground,
It may look cluttered but there’s room for two.

You will notice that there are just four rooms,
It seems ‘small’, but I choose to use ‘cosy’,
Left is cold, right is warm, by both life blooms,
Your bed is central, should you feel dozy.

You could stay forever, if it’s your will,
And I would like you to stay with me, please?
For now you are here to leave is to kill,
Keep my beating and fleeting heart at ease.

My Muse Has Left MeWhen she departs from my grace,
My palette dries in her wake,
Devoid of livelihood for now,
With dull words to fill my tray,
For now I paint a portrait,
With gray,

With no wings of my own,
I am yet to be grown,
For she alone floats me high,
She alone carries the brush;
Strokes colours unto the night,
Filling the empty artist with,
Her sweet kiss of silvery light.

So I lay now in wait,
Under rainbows left gray,
To taste the honey of her life,
Dripping like nectar from rose-soft lips,
Pressed tight as a clamp unto mine,
Breathing into me a laced love letter,
Sighed: To the artist; From: The divine.

Can't believe I couldI can't believe I could fall for you,
but I can't get rid of an impression,
you would understand meanders of my soul,
and take me safely home.

I can't believe I could think of you,
and I can't accept I could like your view,
but when it comes to the truth - I do,
and this complication is incredibly new.

A breakthrough giving rise to an new age,
before I fall offstage.

Drifting among the Spheres...Descending the stairs to the top of the tower,
I stumbled and sank in the sky;
From Venus to Yuggoth I rose like a cork,
Through the æther of Space I now fly...

From the light of Andromeda, crystalline-bright
To the uttermost distant of stars,
I must drift evermore on this eternal flight;
Farewell to Jupiter and Mars!

The Big Bang was merely one drop in the pail
Of Cosmoses unnumbered and vast...
As Infinity drowns in Eternity's depths,
So long will my great journey last.

The broken cupThe broken cup does not signify much,
Other than I dropped it
and I ought to clean it up.

It is not an allegory
for my last relationship;
Just a gift from a friend
From which I liked to sip-

And there's coffee on the floor,
In the carpet, down my dress.
Does it have to be a metaphor
For me to be distressed?

Why can't we just drop
A damned cup of damned coffee,
Without it being a brooding realisation
Or a life-epiphany?

Hadal OblivionFrom vastest depths of the forgetfulness,
The wail of the banished memories
Resounds, bouncing off invisible walls of nothingness,
And their painful intensity – sonance, greatly varies.
Oh, millions of darkest memories cast out
To oblivion, gently caressing them and yet...
They are starving; on the edge of life; bleeding out.
Although kept alive in emanation of agony, grief and hate.

Many want to banish those shards
of their lives. In the end - banishing themselves.

Stripped of those shards of glass, containing memories,
We are nothing – especially not humans. Without identity,
We may find ourselves lost in the overwhelming wor

Sexual AwakeningMy heart kept pumping
But it drowned in its blood
Waiting for someone
To save it from its flood

Yeah, I did that once
Now my patience is dead
I waited and waited
As my heart just bled

Now my patience is dead!

Now I paint the town red
With that sexy new paintbrush
I just met instead
To rephrase what I said
I paint it in my head
When I picture the masterpiece
We can create in my bed

I’m awaken by perfect chaos
Of tranquil vividness
I believe that this is the outcome
Of my restlessness
In silent chaos I’ll hunt down
The prey of exquisiteness

I’ll lure them in
As I prepare to entrap
Then go for the kill
And begin

The measure of the lost memoryAge is but a fraction,
But a story not yet told,
But a sentimental value,
But something we cannot hold.

Age impedes our victories,
Age stands in our way,
The young remain incapable,
And the old will seldom stay.

Age is not a birthday,
Not a frame of time from birth to death,
Not a number that can be ever told,
Not a number told on dying breath.

Age can not be measured,
For none can seem to find,
That age refers to the memory,
Of the thing within your mind.

And whence you forget what your mind holds,
The age is lost as well to the abyss,
And the hourglass drains the last grain of sand,
And the pure void, ensures pure bliss.

Just scaredYour words were scaring me,
What can i say?
Whatever it is, is nothing to stay,
Let me walk for that i shall,
I wont ever even be found.

ArtistWhat skill with your hand you do lightly draw,
connecting lines to form dazzling dreams,
without being able to make a flaw.

Sparks fly in your magic, persistant eyes,
creating a new world in your image,
with confidence that reaches new highs.

Your efforts always seem unrewarded,
the public turning a cold, blind eye,
with nothing to keep your ego fed.

But what dif'rent message is seen in scribes?
Nothing but a meaningless textbook here.
A school's reading has no creative vibes.

A generation that does not read out,
only wants to see words in the pictures,
though there are those who read Poe's works about.

Though literature can on

The Imperfect LineWritten by Josiah Shockency (JCS)

Life is an imperfect line,
We all have ups and downs,
Positives and negatives,
And even smiles and frowns…

It’s a pleasure to be born,
And your life’s a treasure,
But there are stains that won’t budge,
While having all pleasure…

ANGER! DEPRESSION! SADNESS!

Life, what is life anyway?
With all this love and hate,
Mixed together into one,
A huge stain on your plate…

JEALOUSY! STRESS FROM MADNESS!

With bullies in life of school,
Mugs and thugs in cold streets,
With enemies that lurk on,
Seeking for one’s defeats,

FEELING IGNORED! LOSING HOPE!

Bills to pay, mone

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More from ~the-balcony-scene

lost in space1

there were words once, listen:

quiet, soft, like fingers brushing over the fabric of a sweater, tickling your ear, warming, small gusts of heat that spread to your toes, a glinting eye, a curved mouth, a promise.

there were words once, listen:

hard, rough, like metal scraping over concrete, bruising, marking your arms, legs, ribs, even your spine, purple and black blossoming on dark skin, yellowing until silence, an apology.

there were words once, listen:

listen!

now there are no words, only the deafening roar of silence.

2

there are words now, listen:

the old stars whisper to each other. they have discovered the secret of patienc

sharp nailsthere is a pattern of
veins on my right thigh
that looks like the long,
blue bones of a hand

sometimes these thin,
spindly fingers crawl
up my veins and
arteries to clasp around
my heart, tug on the
back of my eyes,
dotting and blacking
my vision

they scrape the nervous
system and i think i
used to pray to settle
the sickness

from 3429 ft.two years ago from paris, saskatoon looked like a small solar system, hazy with rain and cold. three days ago from toronto, it is midday and foggy, a thick blanket of grey masking tiny grey buildings cut by a tiny grey river. but the feeling is the same and i want to reach across the aisle to hold my sister's hand – much the same as two years ago, russell reaching for my hand, any hand, two changed souls unprepared to face the sameness of home.

but the feeling is not the same. we are not two changed souls: we are just happy ones, 'satisfied with the trip' ones, and i do not hold hands when i am happy.

may 3i press tissue paper to the skin
above my ankle, apply pressure,
breathe.

try not to think about the red and
searing and the itch in my hand.

-

i decide i want to cover my body in
ink, beautiful and expensive.

-

my grandmother asks me why i
want a tattoo.

i tell her, "i think they're
beautiful."

-

five years of thinking pass.

birds fly across my wrist and i trap
them midflight.

beautiful and expensive.

reverberationshey skinny boy, you walk like you know where you're going
and when you kiss me, i don't know what to say
( and it sort of
reverberates between us, doesn't it? )

parenting 101when our children wake up screaming in the middle of the night
or crawl into our beds, we have a list of reassurances:

"it was just a nightmare" and
"it was just the shadows" and
"it was just your imagination"

until they, too, are desensitized and locked in a cage,
condition themselves to be blind and sane like the rest of us

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the hallway closet door sonnet

by ~the-balcony-scene, Mar 5, 2012, 3:47:32 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Traditional Fixed Forms

The time I forgot to close the closet
door after I grabbed a towel and it
haunted me the rest of the weekend
while I waited for someone to come home
and close it for me because I'm a wimp.

Something hides past the open hallway door.
Twisting air. A live shadow, bloodshot eyes,
sharp fingernails curled behind wallpaper.
Green stench; plaque below gums, too many teeth
that click. A white face, dark gaping holes where
fear sits in the curve of eye sockets. Mist,
aura, presence, space, a rotting eyeball
hanging by the nerve caught in a hinge. It
could be anything, it could be real. Man
in a mask, guts on his shirt, meal in hand.

the hallway closet door sonnetby ~the-balcony-scene

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Traditional Fixed Forms

attempt at an nontraditional sonnet for class. couldn't make it long enough, so i made a long and lame title to replace the lines i was missing. hopefully my prof will find me as hilarious as i do

love 1 1

~~joy 0 0~~

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~Inflomora Mar 5, 2012 Digital Artist

I agree Nikki, I also really like the way you use your words. No but really, I remember that night. You were so freaked out. "too many teeth that click" ugh I could HEAR IT. You're amazing <3

~the-balcony-scene Mar 5, 2012 Student Writer

I WAS SO SCARED THE ENTIRE TIME. AND THEN I CAME UPSTAIRS ONE MORNING AND THE DOOR WAS CLOSED AND I WAS CONVINCED THERE WAS SOMETHING IN THE HOUSE

I asked my sisters when they came home if they had come over early that one morning for something and closed the door, but both of them said they hadn't and THAT MADE IT WORSE.

lmfao anyway, thank youu ♥

~kartiksharma Mar 5, 2012 Student General Artist

*wow*
Amazing words ♥

I really like the way you use your words...

~the-balcony-scene Mar 5, 2012 Student Writer

thank you! ♥

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the hallway closet door sonnet

the hallway closet door sonnetby ~the-balcony-scene

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