My heart is hanged

I have seen the hardened rock of the sea water 

Fall like curtains, drown an eye with love begrudge 

Walked on a thin layer of the heart string 

It tore and I fell deep into breath of  heart's thorns 

My shadow carried chains locked on my ankle 

I smelt nose bleed like rose petals that fall 

My hands as liquid hold strong roots 

My skin just gave way to the winds 

Death welcomes a new day, clocks melt 

This is the planting seasons for corpses 

A casket is made from the heart 

In Royal Wootten Bassett for old soldier's walk 

They haunt the roads at night as red runs 

Memory with nostalgic wings hangs hearts 

My love is the child that haunts the old house 

Built on hills of  weakened crumbling mountain's heart 

Written for http://dversepoets.com

Who owns the dollhouse

I  just learnt of an important trend 
I just observed an underlining current 

Not that it matters, as it were, smoke screens 
But it matters most to a degree, as it were

Above the norm to be expected, as it were 
It really matters in circles, realms of the high 

Between the powers that be, strings to ropes 
And how the weathers play, as it were 

It matters most, when spotted 
And assigned a scrutiny, "assigned as it were" 

It warns one, in such subtle terms, as it were 
Larking with innocence pretend no physical form 

"I have got k9 teeth, a set full, dog shape, but I wouldn't bite 
Just for show, this is, to show and tell,  just so you know" 

Until that is, it is needed, as it were 
To show and tell, show and tell 

I just learnt of an important trend 
I just observed an underlining current 

I just realized we are in a puppet house, as it were 
With invisible strings being pulled on acts  

I just realized we are all puppets in play  
I just observed an important trend 

Strings on my shoulders 
Jerking my arms, pulling my legs 

I just waked up in a puppet house 
Surrounded by familiar faces with smile 

Yet all puppets in play, strings attached

Who owns the dollhouse,

Unveiling the smoke screen 
We live in a puppet house, a dollhouse 

Brown and Agile Child

Brown and agile child, the sun which forms the fruit
And ripens the grain and twist the seaweed
Has made your happy body and your luminous eyes
And given your mouth the smile of water (Pablo Neruda)

Dying trees, falling leaves, rebellious
Brown and weathered with gravity force pull
Dying bond, loosened tiers decapitated alliance
Brown and agile child, the sun which forms the fruit

The sun has exploded, loosing its form
The rain would only fall in the east, these lines drawn
Protest of family feud, detached with amputated arms
And ripens the grain and twist the seaweed

Out on land similar to others as weed with inversion
Plant but will die from this environment and grain alien
Yet green and wet you will be until the sun
Has made your happy body and your luminous eyes

Dry and empty and now with savage
To taste the blood of all on a platform of scorned
Eager with dead eyes of revenge for vampire thirst
And given your mouth a smile of water 

Trotro stories;The premium rate #7

The third party driver
Today was different one might say

Upgraded though that is subjective
And balanced  on interpretation

Traffic is hectic at the best of times
Never mind the worst of times, regardless 

So on a commute we find ourselves
Not as a diss to my favoured voyager 

The sixteen seater trotro groove 
Call this one a brother, younger brother 

A friend may be, or a rival, or something closer 
Either way, not a sixteen seater 

Few in numbers means higher a charge 
Not sure if it is deserved, higher the charge 

But for commute it seems to run a lot quicker 
With the charge comes some privileges expected  

Like with a passenger, giving route direction  
Not this driver, god of the road 

He wanted none of that, not on his patch 
He would not stand for none of that

Stack in his ways and making one late 
This was me thinking I paid a premium rate 

Premium rate for express travel 
Yet he drives as though we are sitting in a sixteen seater  

The beam of the lighthouse

On the hills of carpeted lands 
Sprinkle spread as far the eye can see 

Dandelions claim this land as their own 
Bright and yellow like victory songs loud 

On the hills of carpeted lands 
At an advantage for the observers' watch 

Lighthouse stands like flag post to spot 
Beaming light for sailors' rescue 

On the hills of carpeted lands 
Structured built as a mighty house 

To give the light a backbone of rock to stand on 
Grand and symbolic to journeys' end 

On the hills of carpeted lands 
Wild as weed, voyagers travel out to sea 

Seeking route to adventures' fortune 
And assigned gift of promises of faithfulness 

On the hills of carpeted lands 
A pact is made, a happiness awarded

A symbolic medallion for travelers comfort 
That the home of hearts will wait for love 

On the hills of carpeted lands 
Spring would beam bright the essence of dandelions 

Picture by: Lighthouse Dandelions by Jamie Wyeth