Queen n Ivy


The Meaning of a Rose
March 19, 2013, 10:42 pm
Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , ,

This is one of my first poems I wrote.

Life is nothing but a rose.

With a stem as great as Mt. Rushmore;

You may find thorns,

That can prick with just one touch.

You may think its beautiful,

Like nothing you’ve ever seen before

But never should you trust

The petals that stare deep into your eyes

The petals that one by one fall

As each day goes by-

The last petal falls–

Now kiss it goodbye.

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What Now?
March 13, 2013, 11:33 pm
Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Image

Moisture conjures, a hand departures

Scrapping the excess off her imperfections.

What does a woman have to do to be happy?

Queen n Ivy



The missing Frame
January 28, 2013, 7:17 pm
Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

A missing Frame formulates the link between reality and fantasy

….It’s crazy how the world turns to ash huh…

Welcome to the World of stupidity and bullshit-ity.

Where clowns roam the streets, the hills, and the country.

Where sharks devour the innocent souls whose loved and lost.

The rest of us abandoned…stranded for dogs.

A never ending battle between fear and regret…

When will this end?

The missing Frame.

I’ll pretend its there when food’s astray.

I’ll pretend it’ll save me through the worst yet to come;

I’m only 22 you see.

I know, I know, some have it worst, But this is the reason I write, you see?

For feelings this deep there must be light, there must be some hope.

Some day I’ll learn to live without the missing Frame.

-Queen n Ivy-



What He Doesn’t Know
November 27, 2012, 4:49 pm
Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , ,

I’ve succumbed to the man of many talents. If only he knew how i felt; pain. To not have my lips rub against his quickly drives me to insanity.

The drain runs.

The faucet rattles as though it were poisonous. To this there is no cure, but the sound of those quarter notes reaching down my thighs.

You’re the Master of Disguise.

The way he looks down directly to my soul, the way he crescents¬†every movement we’re together; his eyes strike me the most.

For i too see his soul…
You’re the sound of music.