some of my poetry
 

Transformation

the dead...
the silent undead...
corpses carried away and brought to your bed

to haunt you in visions
capture, paralyze and cut small insitions

alive for a day, than transformed and taken away

Public Execution

Shaking into erruption, strangled by corruption, one little adjustment, smiles for punishment

My Back Porch

remembering sitting on my back porch, lights surrounding me bouncing off the lantern, who'd know sweet sentiment would extinguish w. the torch, like the stars being placed in saturn....

i remember a place when the stars were in line, as i looked up at the sky in my mountains, and breathed in the crisp night air blown by the moon's lullaby, cooing as it's breath made the winds stir up the fountains...

beautiful night sky, young dreams, now leave me and fill a distant memory, i return now and sit on the wooden floor, but the stars no longer promise a new future in store...

I am the future the realization of my past hesitations, i now see the moon, and am astonished by the stars...and pray that they will heal my scars and bring me back to innocent memory

1. I liked the flow of this. and it is spelled "incisions"

2. this is really, really short, but seeing as it is poetry, it isn't bad but I don't understand the adjustment line.

3. I never ever say very good. But I will here. This is very good. It speaks to me somehow. I like this.

thanks for the imput i am new to writing and appreciate it lots! :drummer: