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Flight of birth draws my breath. Beauty in these glades of death. Drawing at my ever dreaming mind. Drifting slowly, heavenly Towards the end... Sinking deep in bloody sheets. Ecstasy draws the vile touch away. Drowning in your ashen shadows. Your blood...my dismay. Wash it away. Life licks at these bitter dreams Mourning tears I shall never feel again. Frigid is the earth. I wished not for an end to this anguish. Such beauty it is to weep In memory of one so divine. Slipping into this angels feathered wings. But a taunting dream. I feel the end of these resplendent things. Ever in black sorrow, Blinded to the oceans emptiness So pale. Wash it away.
By Matt Chamberlain
Iíve racked my brain for things to say, Iíve fished the land of comforting phrases and Iíve had no luck. Iíve searched for something to give you that will make it okay. But itís not okay. So no matter what I do, where I look, how the words flow from my mouth, who I talk to, when I find something to say. Iím not sure why, but I do know that I canít bring him back.
By Megan Jacobson
When I see her face, my heart flies I can't get down from here She leaves the room. I plummit
By Charles Crandall
Mistaken curvitures for the havoc of a interwoven city She steps back from herself within all her extremeties With her body turned in a way she cannot inhale That hatred looks before with some dying force A silhouette dropping darkness, she scratches at her face Torn away at distant bullets, deafening her every move Civic of wind-washed shutters and gutter laden alleys Where the pulse hardens to any descension of fear
By Stella Folds
unparalleled beauty strapped to a crucifix she taunts him spits in his face tell him she loves him the first nail is driven blood trickles exhausted sweat and blood running down his cheeks ringing in his ears she kicks him where he lays a yelp sounds from his lips his face cringes in pain but he does not plea he does not beg he asks for more his stagnant tears shake from his wet blue eyes the magic gone his face her rag to ring as she sees fit The second nail is driven his body shudders from unthinkable agony as the nail rips through skin, muscle, bone He does not cry out he is empty exhausted she punches him in frustration suddenly enraged she screams the earthshattering alien sound of a mad woman pierces the air as she kicks and claws in a psychotic rage shattering his soul rupturing his heart screaming screaming screaming a thousand tears a hundred lies screaming in agony a raspy moan escapes his lips his face distorts his lips turn white unparalleled and dead he is a corpse chained tied nailed to a crucifix a vacant hole where beauty once lay She turns to his dead body her heart racing her shaking hands dripping with the dead man's blood staining her quivering body she breaks down sobbing uncontrollably she shatters the moonlight with her cries as she makes love to his cold dead body strapped to a fallen crucifix her bloody handprints staining his face One last nail is driven deep into her stomach she is dying naked alone her stomach rotting away her bottomless pit of a soul and he will always be dead and cold and she will forever be dying alone alone no life just tears blood rain for nothing but beauty's pride and a fallen grace
By Julie Wernau
Do you have poetry?Send it on in! It can be romantic, heart-warming, humorous, or epic--we dont care! But if it makes the cut, you'll see it in the next issue of The Shrubbery. E-mail it to firstname.lastname@example.org
Note: The Shrubbery now only prints 5 pieces of poetry per month, so don't feel bad if your stuff doesn't make it. Keep sending!!!