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A Moment in Timea moment in time,
unusual, unnatural... immortal...

a late Winter dew freezes everything
waiting for the awakening of the soon Spring
not completed night nor yet dawning
an opaque veil of haze stands floating
between the starless heaven
and the almost shapeless earth
seen by no one else's eyes but mine

for the skylarks break their yet not accomplished sleep
and start their flying and singing in the breezeless air
shortly, above the soft curtains of tall, wild,
flowerless grass... as they pass...
with wings, wands or angels hands
moving, undulating the stalks at their will
as a clouded wind or a river stream... or even a dream

my reaso

The End of LoveThus must be how
the end of love sounds...

Monocordic ghostly cries
as distant echoes
orchestrated in our ears,
old apologies and lies
from spoiled youth years
leaving us alone,
more lonely
than ever... with only

A bitter taste in our mouths
as leftovers from yesterday
words never spoken, as secrets hidden
on decadent papyrus written
with reaped feathers
from wounded red birds
bloody, painful tears
falling deeply into the ground

Where black rosebushes grows
all... thorns and sorrows

*K
MARCH
*Y
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.

To thee...unknown... and Fake Collaboration

To thee...
unknown...
without a name
shifting in shape
adrift, swift, left back in shame

Was it yesterday or today?
I can not say...
nor do I want to...
the petal I let go away
a part of me... apart

Green, red... forever blue
once alive, now just blanked, white
drip... drip... every blood drops and leaves
close and far... fly to the sky
like tears gone by

Just returning
to my fingers, bringing
something
close to heartbeating
could it be Spring?

*K
MARCH
*Y
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.

Flying Over...The blackbirds flew over the city limits
and over the mountain peaks
carrying silk ribbons on their yellow beaks.

Where do they go, leaving me behind?

I wish I was a ribbon or a feather,
lace or the weather on their wings
torn away from myself by the winds.

Did I have cried, did I asked?

To be as far away from me as possible,
be nothing at all, no where...
Can I be one of them... fly fast and be there?

Be lost somewhere?

Such levity and swiftness,
a castle in the darkness.
Such happiness and wilderness!

*K
MARCH
*Y
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.

Between Mists of White and BlueI arise before the awakening dawn
with the trees movement in the life flow
and the prayers of the four winds,
as single oriental blow
the clouds are going... slow
with momentary soft showers
similar to the gentle cover dew
leaving the river's cradle,
almost walking through
kissing the last stars seen in the sky

The words glow the same way
as I am painting,
both paper and fingers smearing
layers of white paper - love and letters blue
the moon is a still pendent jewel
casted in mother of pearl
I keep whispering
to the white and blue paper, burning
as in a field of forget-me-not flowers bursting
the poem takes the shape of a heart beating

*

Windmill of CrowsI am exposed to its whispers
whilst the windmill speaks
whistling through
as ancient aztec pipers do
intertwining tissues, wood, stones
echoing in my bones

A sweet warm wind
descends the sky above
singing childish lullabies, as too
A sorrow cold wind
rises the cove
wishing my soul to grasp

The spiral staircase is there... at last
to my will to spin... as I must
to turn and win
as the wind that blows and blows
I feel a gloving wing that grows and grows
the windmill is now full of crows

the wind blows
grows
with the crows

*K
MARCH
*Y
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.

Dark DreamHide
the moon inside
your pocket
full of dark clouds

Dive
in its depths
now, a blanket
made of black shrouds

Swim
with no regret
to the left
where there is no light

Dim
across an obsidian arc
where the stars were once
... so white

Lay down
beneath and play
the way
between above and under

Surrender your breath
forever
as an everlasting stream
Bender of my dream

*K
MARCH
*Y
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.

Wings of GlassCarrying wings of glass
every time they pass

nor birds or human kin
just lonesome creatures of the grim

to be heart broken, they are waiting
in the blue dew that don't stops falling

shattered pieces in the morning
memories of tears or melted stars, glowing

as night skies drops
their dark veils
in earth's inclination

*K
MARCH
*Y
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.

Over My Body... The Clouds Go

Over my body... the clouds go

absorbing the water of my soul
until I am nothing...
nothing but a leaf
left here... floating lonely
with my remaining
unbearable lightness,
floating weightless
in the southern breeze
rusty blue, sudden
drained and dry
as an autumnal prelude
of a storm to come
already falling in
all aspects... shattered
all expectations... stained glass
seasonal... broken in pieces
as my terminal life
never accomplish or concluded
failing an hangar
to support my eager to fly
the cranes pass me by
pass me by... so white
they too leave me behind
no time to teach me how
to bend as soon the wind turns
I am clumsy with just one

Yesterday and Today   Yesterday,
I have written your name across the sky
Today,
I do not remember your face
   Even though,
   I have tried... I try so hard
Was it a day,
or a life that passed?

There's a creature doing shadows
with its hands reaping my memory
erasing, scrabbling deeper and deeper
leaving the nothingness behind
except these...
resembling some kind of skin
these bird-hands-shadows
too elongated to be real

While I am laying on - dormant

Excitable tulips explode in the fringe fields
like multicoloured clothes,
hanging out to dry on eroded ropes
in the relentless wind
as my hair scattered over
sheets and

As Time Went By...The windless fingers of the Deathless
touched His warm soft skin, His love bare and weightless
plunged Him into the silver mists of Darkness
into the depths of her own stillness
and waited... (as time went by)

His eyes to turn into pale blue stars,
iris filled by the endless tapestries of comet's tails
with wild rivers running - burning bright trails
and the milky way shifting, to a violet whiteness
finally, He whispered... (as time went by)

Not to the Immortal Goddess,
not to her galaxies and infinite grace,
or the Moon crystalline weaved in lace.
He asked for Me...
He called My name... (as time went by)

*K
MARCH
*Y
© copyright of KAY

Cold... cold heart...You took the stars from the sky and went away with them
leaving just the darkness behind
and me... alone and lonely, surrounded by the long shadows

Even... Heaven in tears grieves its losses upon my shoulders
Yet... I can not...
my mouth and eyes are dry... I can not scream or cry

Let so be it... the sky will weep my sorrows as its own
in grander gestures than just... me
First a river... then a sea of white shores of salt and tears

"Cold... cold heart -
says the non stopping rain, incessantly
dropping, so heavily

The sun comes up regardlessly
all its pain, cruising the horizon until the end
the rain keeps ever falling

Over my body - m

Under...Under...
the saturated sky evolving
with the passing slow hours
erratic clouds gather... conquering the horizon
assuming the shape and colours of wild flowers
their rare moister aroma
invading the air and every breath

I embrace the twilight's ending
becoming evening - within myself
webbed, between amber and water
liquefied in the wind
as the gold disappears
and darkness takes its place
under...

I am already incomplete, broken and shallow
with a grey halo mended deeply in my feathers
its thickness disables my flight, yet
I wait the stars to guide my fate
each imperfection, a jewel to take
If I fall... will anyone carve this in my gra

The ChangelingUnkind,
moving quickly
The Sky...

opened his mouth,
swallowed me in its depths
far beyond
the reach of any human touch
there... where
only the misfits
dare to be souls of prey

Awakening,
I meet my true face within
The Wind...

Four lost realms,
untouched
and I am its middle
a heart itself made of intersections
with no known directions
no paths to find another like myself
be a noble no one... alone

Where will I go from here?
sailing this strange-familiar
endless, sea of stars
winged fishes around my feet
follow me as my own shadow
somehow... they allow
me to be more than an halo

I feel no more
neither the flesh or the mind of... once

Of Ghosts and Stars... Flickering,

blending with the cerulean curtains
as part of the blue misty sky
so silky enters
riding the softly torn wind
coming from the southwest
an (un)expected, guest

pending from the stars
as part of the twilight forming
the thin, mended dusty cloak
follows through the rear window
slightly open, falling for a moment
strange to his new balance

Floating,

adapting again to the pallor walls
as part of its lukewarm painting
glades of the sun - stays as he remembered
the rain singing through the water rails from the roof
running underneath the wooden floor
where the mermaids are waiting

Browse More Like This

More from ~Kay-March

Travelers - ViajantesLoaded with only dust
they arrive
the travelers of ashes

of the ravines
from other lands
of the islands
from other seas

of laughter and silence

Original * Viajantes *

Carregados apenas de pó
chegam
os viajantes das cinzas

das ravinas
de outras terras
das ilhas
de outros mares

do riso e do silêncio

*K
MARCH
*Y
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.
© copyright de KAY MARCH - Todos os Direitos Reservados.

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3am Train

by ~Kay-March, Mar 19, 2013, 10:53:47 AM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Our discussions ended
always, it seemed
with the 3am train
and the stubborn, falling rain
burying, appeasing, diluting
almost all of our pain
slashing our life noises
being extinguished...
defying our bitter screams to quietness
deafened by rumors of anger growing
crawling over the corners, walls and floor
closing each door
tearing us apart,
reaping our minds and heart
these dark moths resting
where we once were
and love is breaking away
running away
from us day by day
on the ghostly hangar
of the 3am train
there is no more blessed rain
only pain...

*K
MARCH
*Y
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.

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3am Trainby ~Kay-March

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Noisy Neighbours, always wakes me up at 3am as a f*** train...
Please let me sleep!!

English Version of My Poem "O Comboio das 3 da Madrugada"

© All Copyrights Reserved.
You may not post, modify or reproduce any of
my artworks without my written authorization.

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Submitted on: March 19
File Size: 873 bytes

Views: 75
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=DragonsChest Mar 22, 2013 Professional Writer

Wow, this is full of raw emotion and bitter frustration for sure...

Reply

Mood: Love

~Kay-March Mar 22, 2013

You can't imagine how right you are!! Thank you deeply for your words!

Reply

=DragonsChest Mar 23, 2013 Professional Writer

Reply

Mood: Love

~Kay-March Mar 24, 2013

icondragon-plz:

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*Gary-thedreamingpoet Mar 22, 2013 Professional Writer

Wonderful! Only a true poet can take a subject like this and create something of beauty

Reply

~Kay-March Mar 22, 2013

Thank you dear Gary... if only my feelings towards them were beautiful as well, sometimes I wish to have a big broom and sweep them off.

Reply

*Gary-thedreamingpoet Mar 22, 2013 Professional Writer

You are so sweet and gentle dear poet, I would use an electric cattle prod!!!!!

Reply

~Kay-March Mar 23, 2013

Hehe!! That could work!!

Reply

Mood: Love

*GUDRUN355 Mar 20, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

It's excellent verse as always. What a skillful way to write about noisey neighbors!

Reply

Mood: Love

~Kay-March Mar 22, 2013

They don't deserve such trouble and beauty, really. Thank you, dear it turned out quiet a beautiful poem despite all.

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