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HysteriaMoon sliver arms raised
to the eventide sky,
hysteria dripping like wine

like a prayer, slipping —
hallowed lips no longer, and

the weight of every loss
and ticking clocks
cracking dappled ground.
Ocean EyesYour ocean eyes will inherit the earth,
and the gulls of the sea will not brace you
for what the waves and winds have broken down.

The pearls of your mouth are just now washing to shore,
and your endearing reach trusts with ivory naivety,
but your lack of profanity will not save you from perversion.

All I can do is sing you love songs,
and hope the world is still worth saving,
when your ocean eyes reflect the sky, still blue.
Comatose RendevousThe narrow spaces
Between typewritten letters
Are just large enough
To lay in.
You and I
Are crafters of flesh and bone;
Our skins,
Made of weathered canvas
And stitched together with
Sweet dreams on lonely nights.
Blood falls from your lips,
Staining those folded
Paper butterflies
You make so well;
I like to catch them
When they fall,
And toss them back into the air.
There are
Tiny,
Crimson-colored pieces of you
Splattered about the walls
And the inside
Of my mouth.
(You taste of melancholy,
And masked, uneasy lullabies.)
I would happily
Bear the red smears
Of your steady fingertips
If you run out of
Tattered parchment.
Allow me to
Spread my ashes
Over your ribs and
In the hollow of your throat;
You would look beautiful
Covered in faerie-tales
Made of soot.
I will sing to you as we write
A few more,
Peaceful endings
Across our
Broken bodies-
Beds of coal,
Disguised in silks,
Promise dirty wordsmiths breath
In the wake of
Sleepless morns
And restless eves.
I can see myself
Blowing melo
If Earth Ceases to TurnWhen hell freezes and heaven burns,
When mountains tumble and Earth ceases to turn,
                Where will you stand?

When the oceans rise and wind roars,
When the walls tumble and each breath is war,
                What will you do?

When madness descends and chaos reigns,
When the plight of man cannot remain,
                How will you leave?

When the ground rolls and splits underfoot,
The forests and cities burn, covered with soot,
                Will you run?

When screams can be heard under the falling sky
And the whole world looks out from dead-man’s eyes,
                Who will you be?
star dwellerhow stained are my seasons

with forgotten intentions, i must have

loved you senseless

now i'm guarding my heart.

my ribs are a courtyard; you

cannot be shy, darling

you tell me, you're a

star

dweller

you fall into yourself

the space within you is beautiful & broken

i see it fully because it's what

made me feel help

less the first time i saw you

a word for your days growing old;

don't try to take control, little darling

i'm the youngest of souls
TheismThe black widow martyr
drips misery across the scenery
while the sky bleeds acid into unmarked graves
and headstone cracks
                    [[with worm hole veins]]

Her flesh is tissue paper
creased in four dimensions
but she remembers her prayers
and questions her motives
                         [[does she still believe?]]

Today, the rope is playing God
fallsnowi remember when it began, a snowflake trapped in eyelashes
waking up to find my feet cold and buried white
the window menacing as crystal fangs grow

it fell faster, stalking, none the wiser but me
as the supermarkets grew slippery
and offices turned to caves made of ice
even under the sun, an avalanche

gushing like a river, the frozen powder covered all
children and birds became paper puppets in play
how odd to see the snowpeople alive

i walked, just a ghost

as it fell, and fell

but nobody saw

and nobody cared

it's not that bad
just me and the snow

and the blizzard finally blinded me
only winter left in my mind
fire escape angelshe is on the fire escape
watching the city burn in the night again
waiting for a friend
waiting for herself

she is smoking in the street
everyone knows that she’s freezing her toes off in those
she doesn’t give a damn
she’s Lucifer in drag

the angel on her shoulder
is a sign that she’s much older
in her heart

she is on the fire escape
watching the city change with the tide again
hair moves in the wind
eyes are on the prize

she is in her room with them
knowing that this is impermanent childish whim
knowing that and still
opening her eyes

the angel on her shoulder
is a sign that they’ll all hold her
in thei
A Still DawnI wake, womb-warm
In bed. My eyes flood the room.
The crack of the door blinds me.

A slipshod sprint of dressing
Morning shirts and burly boots
Cold coffee, a belly belch. Roots
Hold me to my chair. A blessing
Is said before I leave.

I look to the sight beyond the window sill.
The glum-grey morning stands so still
Still like a pool in a minefield.
Rubaiyat: Space in My EyesMy, how lovely is this quiet sea,
Breaking on the shores and on the lea
Curling, tasting of the air and wind,
Taking with its waves a part of me.

Give it back: the pieces I rescind.
Night calls for the cobwebs worn and thinned,
Stretching in the grass--a well-loved place
Fulsome, empty, cold, replete with sins.

Beautiful your midnight frosted grace;
Fearful is the night moon on your face.
Say I, come and walk awhile alone;
Beaches, silence, glitters bright deep space.

Stars breathe miles away in heat unknown
Scent of space and call of night intoned
Split the air with grace, peel back the crust
Letting rocks and trees their prai
Stranger Than FictionI.
Little did she know that
they were the catalysts-

He was the leading man
of a story whose author was
doing her best to kill him off
by the last page.

II.
This is our stage, but
we are their puppets. And
some one, who isn't god,
is writing out our movements,

allowing us to believe in freewill.

III.
My life started as a tragedy, but
broke into laughter in the third act.

And I probably wont get hit
by a bus
today
or tomorrow
or the next day
or...
I'll probably die in my sleep
when I'm old.

And I never will have
saved a life;
but if my author
would let me, I could.

IV.
Isn't that
the kind of person
you want to
the realmsometimes I'm caught in this REALM
it's a realm of privacy, but restlessness
I fade away from the world of action
and into this slow, transparent feeling
the bridge between my thoughts and my actions
widens exponentially
the longer I stay.
It makes me itchy.
I itch for something to focus on
but my brain feels like a piece of tape
that's already been stuck to too many things
and falls off of everything I encounter.
I itch for somewhere to go
something new to do,
but everything that doesn't require crossing that ever-expanding bridge
has already been done,
already been explored.
I keep fading,
remembering that I used to have goals I could work
Dear Love SonnetDear Love, who are you to infect us.
You make us look like laughing fools in love.
You make us get into a love struck fuss.
You infect us with a smile, hug, and dove.

Love is not grief nor pain and angry lies.
Love is happiness and strong, hard to break.
Love leads to life and at times demise.
It makes us long for others and makes us ache.

Men and women are so much like flowers,
We're born to flourish and doomed to perish.
Might lead to hate and weaken our power.
Power of love is met pure to relish.

Love I know now, what you are is happiness
All the good, never tainted, never less
Best Served ColdOn the menu tonight,
You'll find my heart.
Would you like it served
With a poison dart?

Perhaps you'll enjoy it
On a silver platter
Eat it bit by bit.
Delicious? Don't flatter.

Would you like it
Hot or spicy,
Or bitter or sweet?
Grilled or roasted,
Fit to eat?

Go ahead, just ask, be bold...
But if you ask me,
It's best served cold.
Legend of HelenHelen with your hair of flaxen
and skin of creamy touch
Your eyes glow
like the sea in sunlight
And your smile warms the heart
of the sad, broken man.

Helen with your voice of heaven
and your lips as soft as rose
Sweet your scent is
like the breeze on a summer’s day
And your laughter of honey music—
the cure for a dying man.

Helen with your walk of grace
and lashes, long and dark
Your beauty bewitches any mortal man
and even gods and lords above

From Leda and swan
you were born
the most beautiful woman in the world.
Beauty, now your curse--
the cause of the war.
For it was you men wanted to win,
and it was you men attempted to
Browse More Like This

More from ~CarloGrims

Haikupocalypse5
Daishō-sharp snowflakes
slice through those warm afternoon
memories of lust

4
While leathery hands
caress your ashen mouth, dry
tar eats at your feet

3
Young eyes no longer
count fireflies, old tea lady
foams white at the mouth

2
And digital ghosts
long ago left shinto shrines;
but deaf ears can't hear

1
Hokkaido warblers'
last symphony on its way
out to Orion
Beneath The RainCome live with me beneath the rain,
Where waters wash all fears away
Because love rivers never wane.

Jove's tears will hit our roof inane,
Their pattering will sing each day:
"Come stay with me beneath the rain."

See Pan pour on the window pane
As you  submerge along my sway—
Because love rivers never wane.

Apollo's hands would try in vain
To shine their light through skies of gray,
Hence live with me beneath the rain.

Wait to sight Hermes swimming fain
With Aphrodite like swans in may—
Because love rivers never wane.

So Let our pluvial shrine remain
The center of the milky way
And live with me beneath the rain
Because love
Haiku Comp Part 5.3
Orchid kiss thick with
Thistle bloom, lips graze the nerves
Within lizard scales

29
Shock waves from the sun
give you red scars, They will not
Fade unless you laugh  

67
Migratory bird
Flies over atlantic calm...
Lone chick calls for mom

68
White tablecloth ghosts
Drink tea on the mantelpiece,
Snow angels fly high

84
Sweet glance sweeter still
once winds pick up, eyelashes
dance into the sky

121
Green Bamboo walkways 
sprout, bridging mountain ranges where
Hermits tiptoe by

133
Soot marks on walls witness
Feet soles dance on medium-high;
Lotus bearers mourn

Featured in Groups

:icondark-asphyxiation: :iconemo-club: :iconlooselacespoetry: :iconpoetry-of-feelings: :iconpoetry-sanctuary: :iconpoetryperfection: :iconpoetry-all-the-time: :iconpoeticnation:
×

Prisoner

:iconcarlogrims:

Down and away from the light of your eyes
I feed him lies, I feed him broken hearts
And not one day his wings remain untrimmed.
Chimeric limbs on human body crammed
Inside walls of pentameter concrete;
In five by ten crisscrossed iambic bars
I locked the skin from former reptile lives
Expecting you'd adore my virtuous hide.
Alone I sit tonight while reading through
These lines you wish to free the prisoner.

235

18 11 4
:iconcarlogrims:

Prisonerby ~CarloGrims

DescriptionDetailsShare
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Pentameter cell, iambic bars...still he finds a way (to you.)

Partly inspired by Philip Sidney's "Astrophil and Stella" [link]

And friend and fellow deviantartist ~ThyPoetSorcerer's poem "Beautiful Metaphor" [link]
©2012-2013 ~CarloGrims
Category: Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Traditional Fixed Forms

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Submitted on
November 19, 2012
File Size
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:iconthypoetsorcerer:
~ThyPoetSorcerer Nov 20, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the acknowledgements dude. You got yourself a gorgeous self aware sonnetina there, what do you call those when they're unrhymed?
Reply
:iconfebruaryblue:
~februaryblue Nov 19, 2012  Student Writer
I love the poetic/animalistic imagery... gives a sense of the poem coming from something beyond us.
Reply
:iconcarlogrims:
~CarloGrims Nov 19, 2012  Student Writer
Thank you, I'm glad you noticed. It was indeed my idea to give an organic feel to it.
Reply
:iconfebruaryblue:
~februaryblue Nov 19, 2012  Student Writer
You're welcome. :) Glad I picked up on it.
Reply
:iconintricately-ordinary:
~intricately-ordinary Nov 19, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Oh my gosh. This is amazing. Seriously, I'm stunned speechless.
Reply
:iconcarlogrims:
~CarloGrims Nov 19, 2012  Student Writer
Thank you.
Reply
:iconcarlogrims:
~CarloGrims Nov 19, 2012  Student Writer
my inspiration came from some Philip Sidney stuff(he says ppl love the poem but never the poet) and by two lines in "Beautiful Metaphor"the reply Alec (ThyPoetSorcerer)wrote to your poem:

"A name found its way to my soul today"
"transformed into a glass nightingale."

Alec uses Animism to bring those particular lines to life so I thought I could do the same thing with the whole poem. Damn I forgot to put that on the description.
Reply
:iconintricately-ordinary:
~intricately-ordinary Nov 19, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
I really appreciate how you use different sources of inspiration, and I love the way they are reflected in your own voice through this piece. This poem definitely had a lot of life to it.
Reply
:iconcarlogrims:
~CarloGrims Nov 19, 2012  Student Writer
I'm glad you do since it is a bit of a technical piece, someone who's never done fixed form probably won't get the full meaning or even know wth I'm talking about. Thanks for your compliments and your amazing poetry, without it "Prisoner" wouldn't exist.
Reply
:iconparsat:
*Parsat Nov 19, 2012  Student Writer
A delightful blank verse.
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