Poetically Profound

Rest In Sleep


set by the water, i
lost a velvet tongue
in that brisk stream,
it’s pouring through rock formations
over downed trees

  i wonder how lightning
  chooses it’s victims,
  surely not with the antiseptic
  hand of chance

mangled umbrellas are
left for dead, no one
fixes anything anymore,
time erodes the sharp
edges of our (least)favorite
memories. we think of
each other in muddled terms,
dregs and grounds

"bury me in bed"
i pleaded, at noon,
so i can remember this

Source: whoartgos

Lost forever


Bright hope stands up,
in the spill of light—through
morning sun and evening’s moon,
it’s the stars that shape
the fearful darkness
of many a weary night—
allowing each one a chance to rise,
each one will stand in time
on the edge of where the light
stops and the darkness begins,
but only you will recognise
the beauty that lies so elegantly
close at the final end.

Mason Rhett Ford © 2014

Source: mason-rhett-ford


I am sober
on memories
of tenderness
that gentle touch
destroys my calm
spilling its passions
from trembling veins
the flavoured honey
stings my lips
dry and parched
they await
to be quenched
an impossibility
illusionary haze
stoic silence
in isolation
resisting death
they too will die

Source: smist999



I have blisters on my tongue
from tasting the morning sun, 
showing concern for you 
by stripping my skin so you
can finally see -
I am not made of stars 
the way you want to believe of me.

I am not satisfied and you, 
you’re not unappreciated. 
You’re stuck in a thunderstorm 
and I am seeking a silver lining.

You are dancing in the rain 
like it is the 70’s all over again
but I have blisters on my tongue
from tasting the morning sun.

Source: lulu-llama


I stand:
with neither the gods nor the odds
in my favor, and yet

I deconstruct the self with such finesse
that while I dance, the rest
chew on questions as they watch;

I answer:
Persephone has been sending me instructions from Hell

and pop the thin film of
their bubbles
with a fingernail.

Source: esn13



I will remember you fondly

Like sunlit days of summer

The blackened smell of bonfires

And the morning glories blooming.


Like the humid southern night

The dirt roads silent

And fragrant with honeysuckle.

Source: alienwitchlily

upon a zenith


my quasar..
celestial being,
I’m wishing on,
each night..
this is who
you are..
my love light..

Source: wistfulmuse



The table

would groan

under the weight

of my wishes

if they carried

any gravity

or if helium

they might

carry me

to far off places

I can only


If stirring winds

were they

a flock of birds

could soar

and sweep

Sadly they are

none of these

In reality

they are

aspirations that

wither in the hand

never to play

dying from apathy

and circumstance 

Source: frofc


Trying to forget you
is like burying
the casket without
the body inside.

Source: shadow-writer

It Was Around Noon

A pound of flesh for paradise
Pour salt in the wound
An ever shifting paradigm
That brings you from the grave to a womb
I’ve had dreams of being crucified
Where my sky never rhymed with your moon
The sun shined upon the sacrifice
And it was around noon
When I died
We would use the tears of angels
To water this garden of flowers
There seems to always be truth in these fables
Scoff at how you could raise Babel above all other towers
Scourging at the pillar
Pillaged, indifference
Somewhere between Scylla and Charybdis
I turned sour
What gets lost amongst these images
Is that nothing is ever ours
Searching for this feeling of limitless
When we can barely hold hours
Grasping at sand in my hands
Refusing to believe that I can’t
Reclaim power
A pound of flesh for paradise sounds nice
Pour salt in the wound
Pray for my demise
Hope is gone too soon
Far too late to realize
That my sky never rhymed with your moon
The sun shined upon this sacrifice
And no one knew
That it was around noon
When I died