scribbles
Blue-blood poet
cold at heart
large,
your ego,
this swell night,
She’s a tourist
in wild dreams
of word orgies
blood verse
streams,
Both,
crossed lovers
madness feigned,
vintage statues
They remained
Wordplay
artists,
starry
nights,
warm-blood poet—
S t a y
t h e
n i g h t
New seas she sails with wet, wet eyes cold, purple lips a wild, wild heart A fighting mind one fateful tune one fresh start a blinding light New poems read with tired eyes a stunning feat those rhyming lines Warm, purple ink a healing heart she will, one day, recover might A writing sword on stormy fields she will in dreams all battles fight And conquer will those seas she sails those dry, dry lines a fighting mind She starts to sail she longs to write - new poems, wild, they will take flight New seas she sails a bright new night with drier eyes h e r s o l o w r i t e s
We used to dream of brighter futures, features concealed by demure v e i l s Souls almost blurred by shy, dry tears fears hinted in those faces—dark and p a l e Oppressive times, so stark and fearful, Venetian masks silencing those worry t a l e s We used to dream of brighter futures, features concealed by demure v e i l s What face we’d find under such attires— question harassing our snotty brains, those d a y s We used to dream of brighter futures, features concealed by demure v e i l s Oppressive times, so stark and fearful, there was only so much hope to fight those w a i l s Momentum for change Lost opportunity? — We’d never wish for those sad days to s t a y We used to dream of brighter futures, features concealed by demure v e i l s What face we’d find under such attires— colourful masks silencing our worried faces—dark and p a l e
She trespasses the confines of this purple forest, the one I just i m a g i n e d My legs dangling in the air— u n n e r v e d by the lack of motion of recent days She twists and turns and sings and rhymes— Mother of verse Sister of bored d e s p a i r— with frenzied flow Her feet tapping to the sound of a tune only I can h e a r
rarity
gravity
willowy
s i g t h s
sensing
the
fears
that pierce
through your
body
mind
soul
and
thy
h
e
a
r
t
*
rarity
gravity
magical
n i g t h s
drying
these tears
all sensing
the fears
that pierce
through the
body
mind
soul
and
my
h
e
a
r
t
*
rarity
gravity
subdued
star
l i g h t
tearful,
silent,
day-dreaming
we stumble on
willowy
s i g h t s
*
drunk with
wild wonders
day-dreaming
we tumble,
we write,
dream, still,
humble,
f l o a t ,
w e i g h t l e s s ,
t o n i g h t
night of the monsters land of the ghosts fighting the dragons— all the night hosts flight or free-falling at dusk— such dark ride wild and sky diving— a spiralling mind night of the monsters land of the ghosts fight of the dragons— by rugged coasts flight or free-falling— the sound of false tunes those wicked noises, all the sky croons play to deaf ears through all glossy trails— flight or free-falling, smokey travails night of the monsters land of the ghosts fighting the dragons in nightmares they boast flight or free-falling at night— such dark ride all but divining— a spiralling mind
cold-blooded smile and somber cues you think you laugh — but inside she’s s m i l i n g her fingers now holding her serpent brush — as she dyes new days with ocher embracing l a y e r s black stilettos found in her long-forgotten chest of time nearly crying out — barefoot days a r e o v e r while her canvas, fair sets those h e e l s alight, cold-blooded s m i l e — stomping feet through p l i g h t her fingers, now, firmly hold the brush— as she paints new days with ocher embracing l a y e r s high-heeled, great shine, warm-blooded, s l i g h t , you think she cries — but, inside, s h e ’ s s m i l i n g
i tried too hard to catch a glimpse of your soul on your fragile m i r r o r the one I forgot to clean when I got home really late at n i g h t falling asleep while fighting ghosts I’d only heard about, not even quite, i m a g i ne d for they never really existed, all but a fake reflection of your silent, deadly, maddened, b i t e
dreams are dreams— these dreams of m i g h t as night becomes a subtle b l i n d for storming ears and fears of d e a t h and silent smiles and rightful s t a r e s I sing I sigh I dream— We d r o w n those dreams red nights a subtle c r y and dreams are dreams— those dreams, t o n i g h t will end the affair, and cover, m i g h t You sing You sigh You dream— We d r o w n these dreams, such dreams, this s u b t l e b l i n d
Dear readers,
I am happy to share some good news with you, as my poem “literary glimpses” has just been published by Spillwords.
You can read it here:
With this poem I wanted to pay homage to poetic and fictional works—as they become safe spaces where writers and readers alike can fulfil their desires, and ultimately enact their true identities.
Through the act of reading literary works, we can get a glimpse of these dreams and desires, and of all those perhaps idealised versions of ourselves (writers) in relation to others (readers).
Feel free to like the poem on the Spillwords page if you feel so inclined 🤍.
You can also reach me through IG: @lannazeescribbles – I’ll be delighted to see you on Instagram too.
Thank you SO MUCH for reading, liking, and commenting on my posts. I couldn’t be happier to have fellow bloggers enjoy my writing 🖤.
Anna (LannaZee)
LannaZee 