[x]

the scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shoulders
are braille to me, so that i
can read your skin, so that i
can know you better.

i like to listen to your heartbeat
and how it resounds differently
from mine, just so beautifully
like two songs played in tandem
to harmonise in rounds;

i like to hold your hands
and rub your back
so that maybe my love
can find its way through your pores
and seep into your blood
(never can i find the right words
to tell you just the way you feel to me)

and to think that and how i nearly missed you
makes me miss you more
every minute and mile we spend
elsewhere.
i can't sleep with another body
in my bed,
but sleeping without you
leav

we are not a fairytalewe are not a fairytale.

I am not the strong lead with a heart of fire,
bones of steel, and eyes of vapid curiosity;
motivation seeping through
my every last intended action because
I was written this way

(the heroine falls only to rise again:
proverbial phoenix, burning out
because it is the cycle of my
life) and you, you are not

the beautiful travesty, perfectly composed
to strike me where I’m weak and
[almost]human, delicately woven
like the tapestry of my dismantling—
a subtle irony where somewhere, a writer
chuckles softly, understanding

we are blinder than church mice, born
in a makeshift world of darkness where
I&rsquo

Onceyour beauty lies restless behind those
hills, where you fought valiantly. and
the man you once were was brave and kind,
but now you are possessed by a passenger
of darkness, whispering words of your
loneliness.

the man you once were is forgotten, and
the man you are today, is only a ghost, a
shadow, of what you were before.

SurelyIt was raining
when we kissed for the first time,
for the last time.

Thin rivulets
sunk into the shrunken space
between our bodies
and divided us
like nothing could before,
like everything will
from now
until that never again
when we will
see each other once more,
no more.

Your eyes were
that bewitching shade
of dull brown blue
with all of the light darkness
whirling
in a placid pond
around a pupil
overflowing with vacancy,
and me
and my frowning smile.

The winter heat
fell like a rising tide
and,
for our every breath
was another death
so black and full of life --
embracing our boiled ice skin
as we drew apart,
came together and broke free

Condemnedbeneath the beaten earth they lay,
their dreams condemned to ashes,
and our restless bodies stretch,
for forgiveness, for direction –

survivors of the abyss,
amidst wide-eye, silent soldiers –
so many dead, so many maimed,

how many graves are we standing on, today?

FossilizedLiving proof of fossils alive,
and no horseshoe-crab am I.

Nor, inhabitable harsh compression of plates,
residing under humid marsh-scapes.

I mold into the walls, as chalky old coal.
But I am no mineral, no era.
I am not, Mesozoic.

Through the ages
Iron
Bronze
silver, gold and heroic.

I remain a still-life; and no Iduna's apples would retain my youth
No magic fountains, or time devices, or wrist watches.
I am the machine of time.
The watcher, omnipotent, the wise.

But

no God am I

Somewhere, sweet tangy sap trolleys down cracked bark.
Somewhere, celestial bodies erupt unseen.
Somewhere, a abrupt breeze blows overturned bi-cycle tire

Prelude       Nocturne;
I conjure the moon
as dusk crests,
       a wave across the sky

       I am lovely and lonely in
       the night, shadow-
       shackled to the mountainside

and the moths
unfurl their hamsa-wings as
mama calls me in.

bookworm“there is no such thing
as reading too much.”
that is what I tell you
when you insist

that there is some danger of
becoming lost in the stuff—
mistaking seriphs for serpents,

swallowing a story so whole
that its hook
sticks in my throat.

“there is no such thing
as reading too much”
I tell you, bold-faced,
surrounded by snakes
with a line through my lip.

VaseA broken heart can be excavated.
Damaged tissue can be scrupulously removed
and the cracks can be sealed
with the molten trails of gold solidified.
The upturned cavity,
once proofed against further damage,
can become a pulsing vase for tulips,
because even though your heart has been broken
it is still valuable beyond comparison.

silver dreams.i won't say a single thing
about what you and i did that night.
it wasn't anything bad, we were
made to do it.
but the way your tears fell down
in the shape of a cloud
and the pounding on the doors
told us the stars were calling.
more like the gates of hell, but
you think stars make the most delicate
corpses.

HorsepowerHorsepower

There’s a knife turnin in my soft parts
And heat burnin my mind on hard starts
The motors runnin but I lost the wheel
Just want it to be numb don’t wanna feel
Take two steps back and put it in park
Before I leave scarred up black marks
I need a u-turn on this highway
But can’t go back on the by-way
So look ahead, the pavement goes on
Break the rear-view mirror it’s gone
Contemplate
Reiterate
Put it in drive
And say goodbye
Let’s see how fast this bitch can fly

-Cygam7

nightmarethe foxes are at your bedside and singing--
feversongs,
songs of boiling thoughts
and broken muscles.
their lullabyes.
they sneak so quiet, and
somehow,
you can't quite
dream
anymore.

Here and There, Now and ThenBurnt umber dawn, swaying electric trees
Thousands of souls chant in the summer wind
Journals of the dead are read by schoolchildren
They awake shaking someone else's dreams from their heads

Static electricity on the nape of your neck
In the television, on your phone, in your dinner
The calling of a murder of crows from the trees
You remember the view from the hospital room window

A smorgasbord of life and limb, death and decay
The antiseptic smell has an undercoating of rot and dirt
Talismans won't work any more than prayers and candles
Soldiers still fight lost wars, glory in the faded night

Tall fences are built to keep the worlds separ

Puppet My tears fall,

like invisible

diamonds.

My heart beats,

like soundless

drums.

Unwanted,

because of the

strings attached.

How To WriteHow to write:

Write a word.
Now write a sentence.
Write a paragraph.
A chapter.
A story.
The end. ♥

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More from ~nidderdude

My GirlLast Tuesday was the day
That I thought I was in love with her
But now I find
To her dismay
That you're the girl I love today
How have things changed
From then to now?
I can't explain
But she brought me down

You're my girl
And I
I am your lover-boy tonight
You're my girl
And I
I'll be your light
Through the darkness of time
That we call our life

Your lips are sweet
Your hair is fair
You lift my heart when I despair
So many things I love of you
I couldn't live if I lost you too

You're my girl
And I
I am your lover-boy tonight
You're my girl
And I
I'll be your light
Through the darkness of time
That we call our life

My Last CigaretteWhile I was walking
Walking down the road
I saw a cigarette butte
And it got me craving so
But I will not smoke
For I promised my friends
That I was at the end
Of my last cigarette
Last cigarette

Well I've been smoking
Every day since then
And every time I tell myself
That I am at the end
Of my last cigarette
Last cigarette

My cigarette
Last cigarette

Dreaming My Last GoodbyesI hate waking up from dreams
Especially dreams of her
And I always know when it's her
I had one last night
Along with some of the worst sleep I've had in nearly a year
Miss her like I would miss the World
Without mountainous trees and a sweet ocean breeze
Cool crystal water running along my dry, withered throat
The heavenly skies with starlights for eyes
Or the man in the moon as he lonesomely cries
At the lingering memory of last goodbyes

Passing StrangerHave a good day
Have a good life
'Cause I might never meet you again
And I'd like to think of you as a friend

Have a good day
Have a good life
'Cause I may never see you again
There's so much shit in this crazy world
We're all just dyin' in the end

Well I had a good day
I had an okay life
And I'm afraid to say
You'll never see me again
But I hope you remember me as a friend

Leaving YouWhat are the words I don't wanna hear?
They're that you're leavin' me
Baby, dear
But it looks like I'm in luck
'Cause I found out you just wanna fuck
So baby, dear
I'm leavin' you

Crazy World -Spins You 'Round-Every now and then
The world turns upside down
Spins you 'round and 'round and 'round
While you're sittin' there on the loo
Screamin' god damn you dirty Jew!
You fucked my life
You threw my heart away!

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This World Is -Eternal Rest-

by ~nidderdude, Aug 18, 2009, 10:54:12 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

I don't really know
What this world is coming to
And I suppose
There isn't much that we can do
But live our lives
How we know best
So as we release our final breath
To lay and dream
In eternal rest
Our hearts beat slow
Within our chests

This World Is -Eternal Rest-by ~nidderdude

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

©2009-2013 ~nidderdude

Sort of started as song lyrics, but wound up as just another poem.

Originally named "This World Is Coming To (Eternal Rest)".

Written August 18th, 2009.
Funeral of a friend.

~ClipsForPaper Aug 20, 2009 Traditional Artist

I love your poems, Nathan.

Ironically, this one feels somewhat soft and calming to me. I like it.

Reply

~nidderdude Aug 21, 2009

Soft and calm is how I felt when writing it.

How do you find it ironic?

Reply

~ClipsForPaper Sep 7, 2009 Traditional Artist

Well, I guess my first reaction to it would be that it's saying give up, which, if the world is coming to bad things, would only make it worse.
But then again, if we were all a little bit less nosey and judgmental, just fixed ourselves, that would probably help the world a lot more than going out to save it.
So it felt a bit ironic for me, but very wise.

(Sorry for the SUPER late response.

)

Reply

~nidderdude Sep 8, 2009

"Live our lives how we know best

It's striving toward personal improvement, and self satisfaction. So when you're leaving this world, there's nothing you regret.

Reply

~cjmpeach1 Aug 19, 2009

beautiful nathan yet again simply beautiful

Reply

~nidderdude Aug 19, 2009

Danke Carly.
Glad you liked it.

Reply

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