NaPoWriMo: Day 4

Misery Needs Company

You say you want to comfort me,
but you don't leave me alone.
The misery of company,
it's like sucking on a dessicated bone.

I told you that the tunnel's light,
And the ocean's colder blue; 
Were brighter than the crisp cold night,
And harsher than Poseidon's hue.

Now you're falling fast into the vast escape,
Of my mind's dark, empty slopes.
Lingering in the depths of death,
Dancing with glorified ghosts.

NaPoWriMo: Day 3

What if Mother Nature was a whore?

What if Mother Nature was a whore?
A woman who spread her legs as wide as the oceans reach,
So that vessels could land and flourish,
And birth the human race.

What if Mother Nature was a whore?
Perhaps it would explain why dandelions look nothing like sunflowers,
Or why the Sun is nothing like the Moon,
Although they are siblings of the sky.

Mother Nature must have been a whore,
To birth the the sea and the sky,
So similar but not alike.
Vast and Blue, but fathers by masses much unlike.

What if Mother Nature was a whore?
Would we continue to revel in her beauty?
Or expel her from our graces,
As we did Mary Magdalene, the Bible's harlot.

Mother Nature, you whore.
Birthing ugly and beautiful all at once,
Daddy, Daddy, Father Time.
Mama Nature is a whore.

NaPoWriMo: Day 1

I'm a bit late on the start... But late is better than never.. Though never late is better. (Not sure where I heard this but it's running circles in my mind. -.-)

A Woman's Demise

She walks in beauty, like the night.
Supple peaks poking out on both sides of her.
A glorified woman;
Who's youthful exuberance echoes through the streets,
Yes, she walks in beauty, like the night.

She walks in beauty, like the night.
Show stopping the luxury cars that pass her by.
A graceful movement of her hips;
Seducing the headlights of their chariots,
Yes, she walks in beauty, like the night.

She walks in, Beauty.
She is the night.
The cold smack of a whip like the wind,
Or the crackle of a rubber band on five hundred dollar bills,
Yes, she walks in beauty, like the night.

She walks in beauty, but like the night;
The men she lay with are quick to draw;
And without notice, she's on the road,
Walking towards the sunkissed horizon,
Her beauty, like the night, is no more.


Prompt:
Write a poem that has the same first line as another poem.
First line from Lord Byron's (George Gordon) She Walks in Beauty.