Submissions by Kasai
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
LOVE POEM
Published
30th Jan 2019 5:49am
30th Jan 2019 5:49am
Sui Generis
Sui generis she is, and as I watched her,
my cruel amans, riding her salacious
pirouette of grace and sin,
I knew the esse of just one
finespun tear must be exquisite
upon the tongues of Gods.
I wept as the green river snatched away
the sky’s obsidian ink;
she's so arrogant when she wears black.
She tore me shut and I’m drenched
in this night, and in her,
and I don't even know her name....
But she says she knows mine.
And If my weary legs
might still carry the weight of my breath,
I will stand...
my cruel amans, riding her salacious
pirouette of grace and sin,
I knew the esse of just one
finespun tear must be exquisite
upon the tongues of Gods.
I wept as the green river snatched away
the sky’s obsidian ink;
she's so arrogant when she wears black.
She tore me shut and I’m drenched
in this night, and in her,
and I don't even know her name....
But she says she knows mine.
And If my weary legs
might still carry the weight of my breath,
I will stand...
#love
341 reads
13 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
25th Dec 2018 9:53pm
25th Dec 2018 9:53pm
Faded blues
Gone again, you've left with the sun,
my run away muse, my half-written poem.
The sky is such a devastating shade of blue
and so is the moon when I open my eyes.
Your ardent soul still sings
the music of an endless age
and I dance to the sound of it,
divine upon the tongues of leaves.
When all that shines has faded,
and my tears for you become the stars,
I will imagine my heart to be
the only living thing among them.
My lover, my imperfection, my bluest desire,
how desperately I've searched ...
my run away muse, my half-written poem.
The sky is such a devastating shade of blue
and so is the moon when I open my eyes.
Your ardent soul still sings
the music of an endless age
and I dance to the sound of it,
divine upon the tongues of leaves.
When all that shines has faded,
and my tears for you become the stars,
I will imagine my heart to be
the only living thing among them.
My lover, my imperfection, my bluest desire,
how desperately I've searched ...
#love
#grief
#MyInspiration
#WritingPoetry
#emotional
446 reads
25 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
3rd Aug 2018 00:05am
3rd Aug 2018 00:05am
Beauty becomes her
Shades of beauty whisper
in the most wretched of places.
I see it in the streetlights casting rainbows
upon corrupt, back alley puddles.
Love is born there, in the dark.
It is the passion seen
in the eyes of a broken woman
as she turns them on you
like a loaded gun.
She is concrete wildflowers,
desperately reaching for an illicit sun.
And like a somber tear
that never left her palid cheek,
one day she will be beautiful.
in the most wretched of places.
I see it in the streetlights casting rainbows
upon corrupt, back alley puddles.
Love is born there, in the dark.
It is the passion seen
in the eyes of a broken woman
as she turns them on you
like a loaded gun.
She is concrete wildflowers,
desperately reaching for an illicit sun.
And like a somber tear
that never left her palid cheek,
one day she will be beautiful.
#love
612 reads
20 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
27th Jul 2018 6:20am
27th Jul 2018 6:20am
Don't kiss me, goodbye
The eternal winds of change have shifted.
You've evaporated into a beautiful whisper
and I, into the clouds.
Equinox is a painting of my soul,
obsidian sunshine and heavenly bodies.
It's how I came to know the moon.
I don't belong among moon and star,
the heavens are meant for angels
and I have never held such grace.
You bear your cross
as I kneel beneath my branches.
The sky will swallow us both one day.
I might cry because you're gone,
but goodbye will never kiss my lips.
You've evaporated into a beautiful whisper
and I, into the clouds.
Equinox is a painting of my soul,
obsidian sunshine and heavenly bodies.
It's how I came to know the moon.
I don't belong among moon and star,
the heavens are meant for angels
and I have never held such grace.
You bear your cross
as I kneel beneath my branches.
The sky will swallow us both one day.
I might cry because you're gone,
but goodbye will never kiss my lips.
#love
436 reads
20 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
7th Jun 2018 00:28am
7th Jun 2018 00:28am
Steel rain woman
A tattooed biker drops casual f-bombs
from a second story balcony.
They hit the blacktop hard
and cut through the courtyard
set to the frantic beat of a car alarm.
Morning birds harmonize
with the street lights
that buzz to life like captive suns.
From Juliette's repose, I take a long,
slow pull on my last cigarette.
I can hear the trees swaying,
soothing my erratic thoughts
as the wind plays pianissimo perfection
along their xylophone needles,
but these trees are strangers to me.
I...
from a second story balcony.
They hit the blacktop hard
and cut through the courtyard
set to the frantic beat of a car alarm.
Morning birds harmonize
with the street lights
that buzz to life like captive suns.
From Juliette's repose, I take a long,
slow pull on my last cigarette.
I can hear the trees swaying,
soothing my erratic thoughts
as the wind plays pianissimo perfection
along their xylophone needles,
but these trees are strangers to me.
I...
#music
570 reads
19 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Apr 2018 7:01am
13th Apr 2018 7:01am
Petite robe noire
Every once in a while I come by
to see if you've been drifting through
the black and white. I figure, just like the perfect poem,
good company is hard to find.
Makes me think poetry is easier to catch than to write.
There's enough here to light up a rainy night,
quench a thirsty thought, so I bust through
the lines like a woman on the prowl.
Too bad a great pair of legs doesn't mean much
when you're chasing the muse.
She runs, oh how she runs.
I watch her go and she is exquisite.
Maybe you've seen her ...
to see if you've been drifting through
the black and white. I figure, just like the perfect poem,
good company is hard to find.
Makes me think poetry is easier to catch than to write.
There's enough here to light up a rainy night,
quench a thirsty thought, so I bust through
the lines like a woman on the prowl.
Too bad a great pair of legs doesn't mean much
when you're chasing the muse.
She runs, oh how she runs.
I watch her go and she is exquisite.
Maybe you've seen her ...
#love
#WritersBlock
561 reads
20 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
19th Feb 2018 1:14am
19th Feb 2018 1:14am
Procella weeps
Tangled are the clinging vines of solitude,
plaited thoughts flourished
among insipid blacks and whites.
But in an extraordinary stillness, she
unfolds.
A settling wind is quiet rapture:
a whispered sigh, a shaded breath,
swollen behind the eyes
of a wounded rain cloud.
In a pathless wood lit by secrets,
she grows wild among the thorns and thistles,
and in the lap of gods she has no name.
Beyond aspen bows and timber song, she is.
Shattered kisses: I taste them on my skin.
Each...
plaited thoughts flourished
among insipid blacks and whites.
But in an extraordinary stillness, she
unfolds.
A settling wind is quiet rapture:
a whispered sigh, a shaded breath,
swollen behind the eyes
of a wounded rain cloud.
In a pathless wood lit by secrets,
she grows wild among the thorns and thistles,
and in the lap of gods she has no name.
Beyond aspen bows and timber song, she is.
Shattered kisses: I taste them on my skin.
Each...
#grief
#hope
#rain
#spiritual
#confusion
528 reads
12 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
16th Feb 2018 2:38am
16th Feb 2018 2:38am
And I called her a woman
The north wind is angry tonight.
It's a good night to drop a few rocks in your pockets
unless your heart is made of stone.
The way that dangerous voice
knocks around the concrete breezeways
makes me think she's a woman.
She's out there makin' threats,
pelting the walls with handfuls
of dead, winter leaves, and beating at my door.
Even the moon is in hiding,
but the street signs still cast their shadows...
It's a good night to drop a few rocks in your pockets
unless your heart is made of stone.
The way that dangerous voice
knocks around the concrete breezeways
makes me think she's a woman.
She's out there makin' threats,
pelting the walls with handfuls
of dead, winter leaves, and beating at my door.
Even the moon is in hiding,
but the street signs still cast their shadows...
763 reads
14 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
18th Jan 2018 2:17pm
18th Jan 2018 2:17pm
Waiting for me to come back
The silence of a heavy night
has a way of settling on my skin like stale perfume.
I lay awake, that infernal ringing in my ears
drowning out the last of my sensibility.
Outside, stars punch holes in the sky and scatter like fireflies.
The moon is busy someplace else and with each passing train
that rumbles through this godforsaken valley,
I wish just one could take me there.
Too soon, too soon, the sun will shatter my dark;
if I had the cash to buy a small Beretta,
the kind that fits a woman's hand,
I would blow away my...
has a way of settling on my skin like stale perfume.
I lay awake, that infernal ringing in my ears
drowning out the last of my sensibility.
Outside, stars punch holes in the sky and scatter like fireflies.
The moon is busy someplace else and with each passing train
that rumbles through this godforsaken valley,
I wish just one could take me there.
Too soon, too soon, the sun will shatter my dark;
if I had the cash to buy a small Beretta,
the kind that fits a woman's hand,
I would blow away my...
#love
#dark
#heartbroken
#gothic
#night
493 reads
13 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
10th Nov 2017 5:40am
10th Nov 2017 5:40am
A lover's berceuse
My center, my vessel, my lovely diffraction,
singer of my soul and caster of stars.
I bleed passion, pressing my tender tips
to that long, graceful neck.
A gift of pain for a gift of pleasure,
a crest of ethereal light for an obscure heart.
Oh, how it hurts to love you,
but that voice...
And those curves;
I hold them so close, a lover's embrace.
Sorrow's saccharine lullaby
resonates between us.
And I am in love.
(Artwork: John Markese)
singer of my soul and caster of stars.
I bleed passion, pressing my tender tips
to that long, graceful neck.
A gift of pain for a gift of pleasure,
a crest of ethereal light for an obscure heart.
Oh, how it hurts to love you,
but that voice...
And those curves;
I hold them so close, a lover's embrace.
Sorrow's saccharine lullaby
resonates between us.
And I am in love.
(Artwork: John Markese)
565 reads
15 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
6th Nov 2017 00:19am
6th Nov 2017 00:19am
Awaken the snow
One year ago this winter, I survived.
We had much in common, the cold and I,
blocking out the sun, bare and exposed;
like the earth, I could not grow.
My heart was fragile as I slept
and the sun no longer shone.
I slipped away with every breath
And felt the past spread through my bones.
This year, quiet saddness falls with snow.
I feel the sting of every somber flake.
And when my tears have turned to frost,
I will name them beautiful.
I will be awake.
(Artwork by: Kasai)
We had much in common, the cold and I,
blocking out the sun, bare and exposed;
like the earth, I could not grow.
My heart was fragile as I slept
and the sun no longer shone.
I slipped away with every breath
And felt the past spread through my bones.
This year, quiet saddness falls with snow.
I feel the sting of every somber flake.
And when my tears have turned to frost,
I will name them beautiful.
I will be awake.
(Artwork by: Kasai)
633 reads
31 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
31st Oct 2017 5:21am
31st Oct 2017 5:21am
dans sa nature
Sometimes I feel imagined, the way I drift along
in storybook abstract, seeking inspiration.
But you aren't here.
Maybe neither of us are.
My soldier; called to the front lines
to fight another battle
as I struggle to endure my own.
The war is long, but a heart
remembers the journey.
After the ash has settled and the sting of it
has left our eyes jaded and bodies weary,
I'll still be searching the trenches
for what I used to be.
It was never in your nature to tread
the path well travelled, ...
in storybook abstract, seeking inspiration.
But you aren't here.
Maybe neither of us are.
My soldier; called to the front lines
to fight another battle
as I struggle to endure my own.
The war is long, but a heart
remembers the journey.
After the ash has settled and the sting of it
has left our eyes jaded and bodies weary,
I'll still be searching the trenches
for what I used to be.
It was never in your nature to tread
the path well travelled, ...
617 reads
20 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Kasai
