[x]

LonelyI look at the stars
Hoping to see something
Looking back at me.

But its just echoes
Of dead and dying
Suns and worlds.

Nothing's listening,
Nothing's speaking,
Nothing really cares.

There is no design,
No grand plans to
Make the universe spin.

There's only darkness,
Suffocating and cold,
Consuming the light.

Resting In NatureGreen leaves, soft wind,

The gentle whisper of the breeze.

Frogs croak, Birds sing,

The water reflects the warmth of the Sky.

Calm breathing, light sighing,

The boy and the girl lie calmly in the grass.

Midday Mildness, Soft shade,

Trees provide the greatest shields.

Light shifting, kind yawning,

The Lovers stir in their sleep.

A summer day to never forget.

A nature orchestra providing the lightest music.

A day shared, Hands linked,

The lovers sleep in peace.

the weather latelywhen i tilt my glass up,
dregs of iced tea powder
become an orange starscape,
an eclipse wrought with holes;
summer, beautiful and searing.

ugly hungerI.

the wolf in her
heart is whimpering
like a pup hungry
for pure milk
but all it is given
is blood--thick
and warm in a
foreign way
one that isn't the
love of a mother
or love of any kind.
II.
in the dry shade
lies the beast of eden,
her heavy jaw slack
from gnawing rotten
fruit and he is saying
with sweet, red skin
between his teeth
she was asking for it--
how her thin fingers
wrapped and pulled
and plucked at the forbidden-
ness, this is no confession
he hisses like the snake
in his heart.
III.
we are all victims
says god

On days like thisOn days like this,
I like to think
About just how lucky I am.

How lucky I am
To have food
And a roof over my head.

How lucky I am
To have a beating heart
And air in my lungs.

How I lucky I am
To even have been born.
Imagine...

Out of every sperm and egg,
And every unknown miscarriage,
I survived. We all did.

That in itself is amazing.
Then add on that life itself
Is amazing and wonderful.

How many systems
Must work in tandem
To keep me alive?

If one single DNA strand
Were to replicate wrong
My life would be irreparably damaged.

If my temperature is off
By just the variance between in and out,
I die.

These things astound me.
Every c

ReptileBy design, I survive hiding, quiet;
carnivorous.
I am my fangs, or my claws, or my muscle;
alien from accepted.

Please, do not forget,
my cold blood seeks heat.

The softness of scales surprises the skin
of ignorant fingers.

Lookingwhy do we as human beings
ignore what is placed before us
at our feets
in our hearts

i want to be apart of nature
dissolve into the endless stretch
of baby blue skies
lift off in nimbus clouds

and when i want
gently float back down

LacusSunlight glistens off the top of the lake;
Fish swim beneath the cool, crystal waters,
And the wind chops at the surface,
Breaking, for a moment, the reflection
Of the azure ocean above.

RandomSiren sing me that beautiful
song of love, death and tragedy.
of war that was outplaced by love
are other things. Oh siren sing me
that song that has kept you singing,
the song that kept you breathing, the
song that every man, woman and child
would like to hear.

Ode to the WindWest to East,
North to South,
From great lands,
From the ocean’s mouth.
Who is this Great Whisperer
Who hums through the trees?
A zephyr wind,
A gentle breeze.

A joker you are,
And a saint, O wind,
To gather the waters
And in clouds send
Rain and snow,
But also dry out
The torrential flooding
And heal the drought.

You play in the fields
And run through the pines,
Playing with leaves,
Laughing all the time.
From the center of the sea,
To the mountain’s height,
You take off once again
On your continuous flight.

No maze you cannot solve,
No space you cannot fill,
Creeping from under the door
And by the window sill,
Never happy to

The Little BirdI used to have a bird

He sat on my shoulder

His songs comforted me day and night

Every time I opened his cage my heart filled with delight

For he was my only company

But then one day he flew out the window

I shouted and called his name

Until the night was gone

Sometimes if I play a song he would come to me

But when he did not come my eyes filled with tears

For I thought he had gone to the place in the sky

At least he was in a good place if he was or was he?

After days of not finding him I gave up and sat with a piece of bread

My eyes were bloodshot from nights of looking

Then I heard something familiar, was it him?

True enough

Morning CallMorning Call
Sudden shower
Lying half-awake in bed
The soft, tender form of my darling touching me
To my delight, the trill of the bugle
The tumult of the rifles
Had been stilled by the rain
The only sound i heard
Through the soft, quiet swish of my fan
Was the soft and silent swish of the late summer rain
I lay in bed to listen
Until 9 AM

light is dark and dark is lightHave you eaten from the fruits of insanity?
have you not yet bitten into the bitter sweet fruit of sins that lay upon truth?
or are you still living in the safety of a lye,
for I have moved on
while you are still hiding in the blackness of the day
I am bathing under the light of the shade
and though you are blind by the hellish suns rays
I can see
So I will take you by the hand and lead your wandering soul down the proper path of darkness
not the path of son and truth but the path of lies death and gloom
for this is the path of safty
this path was built for you...

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man mythRock is a man's world.
She thinks on that as breath spills forth into rocks.
Then organs then pyrite spitting and shitting
from her esophagus grown soft torn into ribbons floating in the breeze—

COME ON ROCKS, BREAK MY SPINE, she inferns.

YOU'RE NOT MY CHOICE—BUT YOU'LL DO.

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December

by ~Alois-Noette, Dec 20, 2012, 6:33:35 PM
Literature / Poetry / Nature / Free Verse

I think we've only a millimeter's blip across the world.
You gave me only a peachfuzz moon and
two spindly legs cold as wax
to remember you by.

It's so cold the treetops turn brittle.

I could walk for two hours in your skin
and crack into the sky.

Decemberby ~Alois-Noette

Literature / Poetry / Nature / Free Verse

When I didn't want to do finals.
It was really cold and wet outside and all the lights from the traffic reflected on the road and all the houses looked like the Pacific Northwest and it was perfectly distracting.

=Aconitum-Napellus Jan 21, 2013 Professional Writer

Oh. Wax and brittle and crack. Love the way these brittle feelings thread through this. It feels about that cold outside here at the moment, too.

~Alois-Noette Jan 22, 2013 Student Traditional Artist

it wasn't actually all that cold then, just rainy! poems to procrastinate on finals with...

=Aconitum-Napellus Jan 24, 2013 Professional Writer

Procrastination is good

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