CemeterySound Poetry

[o'queery]

It's morning again sweet self,

Sitting at the
crest of this beach full of heartbeats
I wonder what ever became of love..

The space between
those
tender moments
of
frustration and glee

Where I dropped my tomb linens

and


sang to You by
the fire of
my verbs

I saw it all

Like the tattoos
on my
forearms speak
volumes
in pictures
of depth to fragile for most


But not
You

I give love
like the wave that crashes
it's body to
the sand

And for once

I would like to be loved like that too

Always reaching into
empty oceans


but still finding shells/
dollars made of sand-
orange stars of acceptance for who I am

It's liquid my poems...

A beacon of hope in wasted times where
love doesn't come first
or


last to some

I eat the air
A delicious consumpiton
of strength
to empower me

and


Eyes wide as the escaping Moon,
hungry as ever I smile

Good morning boy

[o'queery]

For You have
been
a brilliant star

my own
beacon of white
light upon
some
of my most
darkened painful
winter hazes

Consistant
in Your
craft of support
enabling me
to grow

from beneath
the megaphone
of Your praise

Each word pushing
me
into wanting to
be better

Than I already
within
my heart
know
that I am

In this.. I aspire.

[SirLucian]

Originally Posted by o'queery

For You have
been
a brilliant star

my own
beacon of white
light upon
some
of my most
darkened painful
winter hazes

Consistant
in Your
craft of support
enabling me
to grow

from beneath
the megaphone
of Your praise

Each word pushing
me
into wanting to
be better

Than I already
within
my heart
know
that I am

In this.. I aspire.

Proud Syr
Most wait lifetimes

[NitroChrys_Butch]

Originally Posted by o'queery

For You have
been
a brilliant star

my own
beacon of white
light upon
some
of my most
darkened painful
winter hazes

Consistant
in Your
craft of support
enabling me
to grow

from beneath
the megaphone
of Your praise

Each word pushing
me
into wanting to
be better

Than I already
within
my heart
know
that I am

In this.. I aspire.

It is only when two can find this that both are set free. Each sees the best in the other and nutures it. Only then can both grow to be what it is that they were meant to be.

[NitroChrys_Butch]

Originally Posted by o'queery

It's morning again sweet self,

Sitting at the
crest of this beach full of heartbeats
I wonder what ever became of love..

The space between
those
tender moments
of
frustration and glee

Where I dropped my tomb linens

and


sang to You by
the fire of
my verbs

I saw it all

Like the tattoos
on my
forearms speak
volumes
in pictures
of depth to fragile for most


But not
You

I give love
like the wave that crashes
it's body to
the sand

And for once

I would like to be loved like that too

Always reaching into
empty oceans


but still finding shells/
dollars made of sand-
orange stars of acceptance for who I am

It's liquid my poems...

A beacon of hope in wasted times where
love doesn't come first
or


last to some

I eat the air
A delicious consumpiton
of strength
to empower me

and


Eyes wide as the escaping Moon,
hungry as ever I smile

Good morning boy

Love is a powerful thing. It can hurt. It can heal. It can make you feel worthless or it can lift you up and show the One who returns it what a precious thing you are. It is powerful. And it certainly does make one "hungry".

[o'queery]

I see you

broken and
bleeding


A goddess of heart
and acceptance,
arms stretched wide
upon that cross


Taunted by the
stones and thorns of
your life's work

Yet you... still love


I see you

persecuted by
history and lies that
hold him hostage


That petite idol
that shines
from his neck to
mock you


No sentiment to
the fiber of tolerance
you created


Yet you... still love

I see you

A mother, a writer,
a goddamn warrior
for hearts


That bruise and
ache and scream for
a reverend of a different sort


To claw their way
out of this position at
the altar


Yet you...still love

I see you

A spiritual tool,
with a fervent
ramble

Crimson tides seeping from
your eyes that to me?
Are open wider than his
corruption of a busted faith



Yet you..

Still

Fucking

Love

(this was written for someone who touched me very much)

[o'queery]

Gravity



My redemption of verses
spill meter


by
meteor
onto the starlit runway of my fears

Verbs take time from this
altitude

A death by poem
I am scrawling
murder


across
crumpled napkins and
Saturn coffee rings

The lead is
my space cowboy


Breaking
off in
pieces through stellar
backdrops of my soul

My itinerary
purges and I straddle
the
icy Moonlight


Within these
words
I am weightless

I am

Weightless

[o'queery]

That Goddess is a
Minister

Bitter thinker of broken hearts
and
hate

Her debt so
high she can't begin
to
pay it back

I watch in reverence
as the she loses
her clothes
like a
Hollywood
stripper

Scripture inked
across her back
says "The Lord will
supply my
needs"

While her mouth
curves in
seductive wet
kisses

Her greedy

Coal blackened eyes
travel to
the sweaty
believer
in the front pew

[o'queery]

Dollboy////



Reach into me

Past the crimson scars tattooed against

My plush heart

I am not broken

See these stitches, hand-crafted by dirty hands

Filthy lovely needles

Hazel blinking eyes

That don't close in the glow of Your ancient

moonbeam smile

I finally belong

[o'queery]

I am
restless this
night

My poem filled eyes
travel
the lengths of my
palm and I
wonder
if they hold any secrets
to my stay
in this world

I look over at
my God
an Enigma of calm
and grace
even when sipping
His coffee
Picturing this scene right here
without me in it

Squishing my
eyes shut
the thought is let go
I smile

Away from these words
I blink
These freedoms lost and found in a hailstorm of moments
and touch His knee

His eyes
a lighthouse of
Darkness
catching me stealing awe filled glances
His way

In my bottomless
heart I caress each
blessing of the new Moon
that whispers
that I have plenty
of time
to love and be loved
by His Light

It's becoming easier
to push and stretch my
fears into
the past
where they belong

I am restless
this
night

[Bootsandheels]

Originally Posted by dameonboy

I see you

broken and
bleeding


A goddess of heart
and acceptance,
arms stretched wide
upon that cross


Taunted by the
stones and thorns of
your life's work

Yet you... still love


I see you

persecuted by
history and lies that
hold him hostage


That petite idol
that shines
from his neck to
mock you


No sentiment to
the fiber of tolerance
you created


Yet you... still love

I see you

A mother, a writer,
a goddamn warrior
for hearts


That bruise and
ache and scream for
a reverend of a different sort


To claw their way
out of this position at
the altar


Yet you...still love

I see you

A spiritual tool,
with a fervent
ramble

Crimson tides seeping from
your eyes that to me?
Are open wider than his
corruption of a busted faith



Yet you..

Still

Fucking

Love

(this was written for someone who touched me very much)

Thank you sweet Aiden

[o'queery]

Your filth
covers me

Burying skin
and bone

That which was once
splintered
and
dead

Is now
alive with
Your
violence

Your fucking
stare
so loud

The static
echos in my
soul

Breathing i am...
inhaling You
Exhaling calling
to
the Abyss

Beneath You i
am
whole


And as i have
said before this darkness
here
Makes a freedom
in me

For this
i bleed out
these words
into Your palms

<Freedom>

[SirLucian]

Originally Posted by dameonboy

Your filth
covers me

Burying skin
and bone

That which was once
splintered
and
dead

Is now
alive with
Your
violence

Your fucking
stare
so loud

The static
echos in my
soul

Breathing i am...
inhaling You
Exhaling calling
to
the Abyss

Beneath You i
am
whole


And as i have
said before this darkness
here
Makes a freedom
in me

For this
i bleed out
these words
into Your palms

<Freedom>

you leave Me speechless.......
as I take................ you give

[NitroChrys_Butch]

Originally Posted by dameonboy

I see you

broken and
bleeding


A goddess of heart
and acceptance,
arms stretched wide
upon that cross


Taunted by the
stones and thorns of
your life's work

Yet you... still love


I see you

persecuted by
history and lies that
hold him hostage


That petite idol
that shines
from his neck to
mock you


No sentiment to
the fiber of tolerance
you created


Yet you... still love

I see you

A mother, a writer,
a goddamn warrior
for hearts


That bruise and
ache and scream for
a reverend of a different sort


To claw their way
out of this position at
the altar


Yet you...still love

I see you

A spiritual tool,
with a fervent
ramble

Crimson tides seeping from
your eyes that to me?
Are open wider than his
corruption of a busted faith



Yet you..

Still

Fucking

Love

(this was written for someone who touched me very much)

Never underestimate the power of love. It encompasses all else. It is able to wipe clean all the ugliness and shine through.