January 29, 2008
A Forest/Dusk and her embrace (2007)
by Jesse Young
Draped in an allure
T’was thick as to obscure
Entrap and betwixt its prey
She the lowly maiden fair
For whom many hearts despair
Neither her look nor her gaze
Whispered mischievous intent
Playfully naïve minx
Though illustriously aware
Many men claimed to have saw
For time immemorial
She frolicked the woods yore
Nubile forest nymph
Possessive of remarkable flair
But lo! To catch her eyes
She’d tear you to the brink
With her disconcerting incise
In a rare and fleeting moment of surprise
Barely a glimpse would suffice
Decreed to a life sentence
Inclined to chase this maiden fair
Far through all woods of yesteryear
Chasing a blank forgery of a heart
Long since faded, eroded imitation
All but lost to the winding passage of time.
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Poems, Writings | Tagged: Cradle of Filth, Poetry, Writing |
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Posted by rikuakutenshi
January 29, 2008
Simple love rhyme (2007)
or
(The pretty indispensable curious alluring atypical novel puzzling illusory extraneous paroxysminducing preoccupation of a creature.)
By Jesse Young
Apple of my eye
Dissolve the floodgates of my heart
Diamond of my sky
It’s through you, I channel my art
Soother of my soul
Coddle me with kisses
I am your devoted foal
Even if it’s hit and misses
Our passions spent
On a heart shaped box
Sweetly content
In mismatched socks
I offered a pair of mittens
In snappy winter snow
You gave me three kittens
So this of you I know
Throughout the beating squall
That tempest we heard and see
You’ve possession of me whole
Assuage all strife that burdened me
Carve our names into a tree
An august picnic under the willow
It’s love that rends us free
Your face buried in my pillow.
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Poems, Writings | Tagged: love, Poetry, Writings |
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Posted by rikuakutenshi
January 29, 2008
The mindless never-after (2008)
by Jesse Young
Oh abiding pain,
In memoriam,
Mind abated, thoughts restrained.
My misshapen soul,
Itched, wallowed & lost control.
Sullied long to,
Labour a cloistered hole.
Though drawl,
Sexless nights held terrors,
Ambered in death’s thrall.
Onrushing visions spill out,
Traffic lights whirl,
Past & present cemented,
The future, I confess, not so sure.
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Poems, Writings | Tagged: Depression, Poetry, Writing |
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Posted by rikuakutenshi