Crystal boetry

By Dinka - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Monday, January 28, 2008

Kiss from a rose

Some compare her to a kiss from a rose on a grave. And indeed, some call her so - only in whispers - she must never hear, nor her wrathful lovers. I beg to agree, for my love did, and I never refute him. On what grave I don’t know, but she drove me to mine when she kissed him. Her kiss is deep, pure... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Dinka at 11:15 PM | add or view comments (6) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Anger management

I want to crawl into a hole. What would I do there? Yell my lungs out of course! No one would hear me, so no one can tell me to shut up. I don’t care if I burst them- who needs lungs when I can grow gills? I want a shell. What on earth for? So I can croak when I shower and all people will hear are... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Dinka at 11:04 PM | add or view comments (1) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Ching Ching

Trapped in a cage of my own making Fenced in by ambition The longing of my ears for that heavenly sound… Ching ching!I sit chained to a desk Staring down at miles of writing That dances on the page Sensing my importance Knowing I’m doing good, making a difference Pleasing my bosses Killing my heart... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Dinka at 11:02 PM | add or view comments (0) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Still

Still. Stuck in a rut. All that spinning around like an endless drill wedged my feet in the chasm of ambition. Now I can’t move. My toes have screwed to solid rock. I’m waist deep, hands fused stuck to my sides in the pipe I built. Can’t rise Can’t sink Can’t move Can’t scream Can only be… Still. Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Dinka at 11:01 PM | add or view comments (0) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

A poem for Sam

From amid gravid depths rose a mystery upon a blue moon. Like a trout he leapt out of the waters. i savoured the gaze in the azure shade. He was kind on the eye, kinder still on the heart. The apparition caught my roving eye; Game-shot! Were he a bird, my heart would sing; though I cannot reach (and... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Dinka at 10:58 PM | add or view comments (0) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

The dance of the firefly

She sat in her hole and peeped at the world above, Afraid to shine her light which was sick and green. She watched Juliet, the sun. She watched and waited, wondering what joys would come when Juliet slept. The stars winked down at her. "Come out and dance" they sang. She stepped out, timid, and... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Dinka at 3:13 AM | add or view comments (4) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Thursday, January 24, 2008

On the brink

I stand on the brink and enjoy the view. I long to be on the other side, to feel the dew beneath my feet, to taste the horizon, To swim in the blue above and lick the dusk. But as I fall over the edge, I see. I’m not ready to sink. My soul is afraid. Then sight lifts me, filling my wings with the... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Dinka at 10:15 PM | add or view comments (5) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Withdrawal symptoms

My fingers shake. My insides tremble. My eyes are open but I only see blurs, hazy mirages and chilly pools. I turn on my music, but only hear ripples and waves. Sometimes they crash the shore, sometimes they trickle by. They tease my feet and whet my appetite. Scorching sun burns, My soul is chilled... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Dinka at 6:33 AM | add or view comments (4) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

A poem for Wolfie

When I think of you, I think of white wolves and blackforest cake. My white wolf is arctic: distant and rare unless you know where to look. Broad frame, never keeping still - built for cruelty, formed for affection. My blackforest - the mystery I long to solve - could hide a painful death or a... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Dinka at 10:40 PM | add or view comments (4) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Monday, January 21, 2008

Twin lovers

I love him for his eyes; They sparkle in the dark. And when he looks into mine, They drown me. I love you for your sight. You see me as I am. You leave me no regrets and you call me beautiful. I love him for his hands. They tease me, they tickle me, They leave me wanting more. I love you for your... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Dinka at 2:42 AM | add or view comments (4) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

About this Blog

If poetry is food for the soul, I am sated. If poetry is a reflection of self, here lies my mirror. Watch the glass and drink your fill - if you dare...

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