I'm a writer/poet/word-putter-togetherer from Liverpool, England. I post poems and reblog funny things. Hope you like it here :)

 

http://hookedononyx.tumblr.com/post/92530370481/people-like-me-who-feel-just-to-merely-feel

hookedononyx:

People like me,
Who feel just to
Merely feel,
We’re the strongest of them all.
Because when we’re happy,
We’re dancing on the moon,
Showing the world that
The sky is just an illusion.
And when we’re sad,
We drown ourselves deep
Within the ocean,
Speaking with the creatures about
Life…

Poetry Riot Prompt (Week Seven)

poetryriot:

The prompt for this week is:

sheltered mouths

Tag your work with poetryriotprompt and post it to your blog. Good luck and have fun!

Nomads’ Tales - Land of Brimstone:

smoothingsand:

We stood on the edge of green and gray.
We foraged and hunted from the life abundant.
Then we traversed that place of ash and lava.
Oh how our feet burned as our knees toiled.
We avoided lave filled pits and kept madness at bay
as the smoldering undead kept us up at night.
Fear the Land of Brimstone;
in the forest you must stay.
There is no water to flood the spirit,
nor food to fuel the mind.

Renaissance

etherlighter:

There is a land without a limit
That stretches past demise and heat
And floats away into the air. 
Isn’t revival rather sweet?
The concept of the land of fire
Allows the flame to kindle hope:
Hope birthed from insolence and ire
And scattered ashen on the street. 

http://unknowmenclature.tumblr.com/post/92273340397/i-placed-a-bet-with-myself-for-a-lot-of-money-but

unknowmenclature:

I placed a bet with myself

for a lot of money but never saw

any of it
when myself won.

There’s a distance between

hand, mouth, and figurative language

that can’t be pinched back together

or bridged by lip and bicuspid, a
worn screw of worry lines slinking
apart from the brow of everyone…

thephilosophersotherstone:

land of charcoal

competing skills of broilery
henchmen and -women
at the blazing brazier
where fiery doom impends
upon assorted meats and veg
relished, condimental
mental is as mental does
sparks fly from spice administered
we hunger for these roast enticements
palatable and palpable
from grubby mitts purloined
and sirloin’s for another day
today the barbie’s cue is all
insinceriously, it’s all good fun
this grilling spree we’re on
the beer is chill, and ain’t we all

thatrandomgirl4389:

Walking through a land of fire
She is never burning
Breathing in the embers ‘round her
Only feeds her yearning

Heat currents spin around
Ashes ‘neath bare footsteps stir
Her voice, a crackled sound
Her words, a molten slur

She cried tears that would not quench
The hellfires licking at her skin
She has come to enjoy the stench
Of their burning flesh and sin

The girl grew from destruction
Into a woman who destroys
Scorched by too many men
The Fire, now, her choice

Assassin’s Need

mikeyfer:

Prompt from youalonefilltheuniverse:
“Fit the words fear, rug, spire and whiskey into a poem”

Atop the church spire
Drunken assassin waits
Landscape below
Resembling patchwork rug

Hazy from the whiskey
The hit remains the same
They pay him well
Well enough for more drink

Despite the haze
He never misses his mark
In the black of night
Keen senses dulled

Spotted the target
Out for a late night stroll
Dive from height
To kill without detection

CRAP I missed the word “fear”


Ah well.. It’s implied…

Assassin’s Need

Prompt from youalonefilltheuniverse:
“Fit the words fear, rug, spire and whiskey into a poem”

Atop the church spire
Drunken assassin waits
Landscape below
Resembling patchwork rug

Hazy from the whiskey
The hit remains the same
They pay him well
Well enough for more drink

Despite the haze
He never misses his mark
In the black of night
Keen senses dulled

Spotted the target
Out for a late night stroll
Dive from height
To kill without detection

Proooooooooompts!

I need me some prompts! Prompt me! Please!