~aStarlitPun

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About Me Member Wannabe Poet Tristan18/Male/Canada

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I Don't KnowWhen I see your back,       I hate you.

     And when you face me,          I forget.

        Or, wait       I think it's...
     When I see your face, I love you.

And I forget       after you turn.

     Well,
        I guess       either way, &nbs I Don't Know
by ~aStarlitPun

WithdrawalWithout you life becomes empty meaningless            (cliché, I know            but hear me out)
Not empty like a symbol. Empty like a disease.
The heart withers its beat is soft       like socks on the kitchen floor.
Muscle and motivation dissolve;       I can't move without that dream we had. My mind decays   running in circles around where you were.
All of me wastes away until I'm skin and bone Withdrawal
by ~aStarlitPun

The Day You Turned To SandWhen I first saw it floating there a fleck of sand on
your deep ocean eye you blinked and shuddered said it was nothing.

I squeezed your hand came away coarse with
pieces of you stuck like the end of a Saturday under the wharf to my smiling, "everything-will-be-fine" row of oysters - each eager to spit out a pearl
of wisdom or love for you.

As you dissolved in the wind and vanished
between my toes you whispered how you hated pearls because they're just snot and sand. The Day You Turned To Sand
by ~aStarlitPun

FeedbackIt's heartbreaking its expression when your hand lashes out - constricts like a python or desperation.

You embrace your anger with iron jaws, lest it flee; though it wouldn't dream to -
can you hear it getting off to your suffocation?

And if you two weren't like the Corsicans -
sharing every shattered bone and dream -
I'd only be confused. Feedback
by ~aStarlitPun

Browse Gallery

Wishes

Wish that I could heal those eyes those downcast beads - not gems - a pair of polished, average stones smooth green and grey
whose veins and cracks show tears and love that were.
Wish that I could sink into, become and feel those clouded eyes -- set them in two silver rings for all to see.

Wishing for her...
(cliche, I know)

Favourites

All Of The Ways I Could Have+
Pulling you outside after my bath.  Saying, "see that? It's not as good as us."  Putting a leftover soap bubble on your nose for effect.  Almost killing us from dehydration
in the canyon, your water bottle filled with love notes instead of water, and it's 7 miles to get back to the
car and it's 103 degrees.  You go to eat your egg roll and
instead there's a plate filled with a million dollars.  OK,
that one's impossible, but I thought you would like a
million dollars, and if I had it, I would give it to you, All Of The Ways I Could Have
by `queenhrosie

Ramshackle HeartMy ramshackle heart speaks French in doorways where street lamps spin like dervishes across the sidewalks and the light curls up to the sky and lays its breath upon the night.
It beckons a beautiful woman to slide out of bed and run away from her dreams and slip into a dangerous shade of red in front of a jealous mirror that can read her mind.
It lures her to dance, an invitation of tango steps that bob and weave like punch drunk stars, hip to hip, my hands whispering a sonnet under her breast Ramshackle Heart
by =Scarlettletters

For The People Who Have Called+
The morning rides into me, bareback, leaves me open-mouthed and hiccuping.  I drink a cup of coffee. I do not change out of my hip cheetah-print leggings until noon.  I feel like a failure.  I do not want to admit this to anyone, so I write a poem in which I say,
"I feel like I failure, but I could not tell anyone because being a failure is a delicious and
beautiful secret."  I drink another cup of coffee
and I stand outside.  The lilac bends into me,
I add liquor to my coffee, I moon
silently over the For The People Who Have Called
by `queenhrosie

Advice+
"I don't know how to tell you this", she said. "Just do the right thing."  The right thing?   The right thing always depends on whether the person speaking is an 11 year old kid or a priest or Pamela Anderson.  Or, I could

figure this out for myself: through thirst,
hope, and enough sorrow to cover myself with like dirt.  Marriage is funny, everyone thinks
they have the best advice, but none of it seems to make any sense.  I'm sitting by
the window, trying to get enough light to place a band Advice
by `queenhrosie

Browse Favourites

Six-Word Stories

Tue Nov 17, 2009, 8:16 PM

Mood: Happy
Listening to: the voice nobody else can hear
Reading: A Time of Exile
Watching: the house of cards rebuilding itself.
Playing: at sanity.
Eating: Steak. Fuck yes.
Drinking: Juice

Posting a six-word story seemed kind of... illegitimate or something. I feel guilty about posting haikus, even.

So I had to write six-word stories in Writing today.
Six-word stories started with Hemmingway, who wrote:
"For Sale: baby's shoes, never worn."

I really only got one that I liked.

"Call her voice music...
She's deaf."

Here's the rest (I'm changing them as I go):

"Untying knots and hiding rope burn."

"Used only six, millions were wasted."

"Spoke through metaphor; was never understood."

"Little sister's bedsheets tangled like legs."

As you can see... I found writing sad ones is easier. Could have just been my mood. I don't really like mornings. Perhaps it's because of Hemmingway's prompt.
Anyways. I imagined the worst and that last one takes the turkey, I think. Might have stolen that simile from somewhere, though... not sure.
So yeah. Enough fragments and ramblings. Take a minute and write your own - it's good practice for poetry.

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Comments

=Scarlettletters 6 days 23 hours ago

Thanks for the views and faves. Enjoy your weekend!

--
An Irishman has an abiding sense of tragedy that sustains him through temporary bouts of joy.

Hidden by Owner

~lesucredepasteque Oct 13, 2009, 2:51:43 PM

thanks so much for the fav

~aStarlitPun Oct 13, 2009, 4:30:11 PM

always my pleasure

--
"EMPRESS of Art, for thee I twine
This wreath with all too slender skill.
Forgive my Muse each halting line,
And for the deed accept the will!"

*restlessink Oct 11, 2009, 4:39:52 PM

thank you for the fav :]

--
"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live"
-Albus Dumbledore

~aStarlitPun Oct 11, 2009, 4:41:18 PM

thanks for writing.

--
"EMPRESS of Art, for thee I twine
This wreath with all too slender skill.
Forgive my Muse each halting line,
And for the deed accept the will!"

*restlessink Oct 11, 2009, 4:47:38 PM

:3
yay for depressing nights?
LOL

ooh poetry, you're such a good outlet

--
"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live"
-Albus Dumbledore

~Johndar Oct 9, 2009, 9:52:45 PM

Thanks for the fave mang

~aStarlitPun Oct 10, 2009, 12:17:05 AM

Good stuff, ese

--
"EMPRESS of Art, for thee I twine
This wreath with all too slender skill.
Forgive my Muse each halting line,
And for the deed accept the will!"

Hidden by Owner

~theBrick06 Sep 11, 2009, 7:47:04 PM

my brotha...thanks for browsing my stuff. you're quite the writer, keep that going!

~aStarlitPun Sep 11, 2009, 7:56:05 PM

It was a great description of the sadist.
No worries; I will.

--
"EMPRESS of Art, for thee I twine
This wreath with all too slender skill.
Forgive my Muse each halting line,
And for the deed accept the will!"

~theBrick06 Sep 11, 2009, 8:21:20 PM

good on ya...it was actually how i felt everytime i get my blood drawn. i hate needles, but once it's in me and the blood is drained and i can see it...its like a grisley tipsy muse for me

~aStarlitPun Sep 11, 2009, 9:57:47 PM

Ahh. Now the "metal and plastic" line makes more sense.

--
"EMPRESS of Art, for thee I twine
This wreath with all too slender skill.
Forgive my Muse each halting line,
And for the deed accept the will!"