Crossing Chasms

Raven hair and blinded eye,
Maggie, with locks let low
floating on prodigal zephyrs,
breezes communicating their fickleness
with invisible fingers.
Their attributes far more poignant
than the fading, rusty sun,
and the crimson rays
that descend on your pale cheeks.

Biting at the cold, at worlds unknown,
We grasp for connection.
"What does the sunset look like?"
I place her thin hand on my heart, "This
beat, this warmth, this is the rhythm
of the cosmos."

Alot of love poems, it is a bit sickening, but also kinda fun. I used to try to do love poems and they were terrible (these might be too, but they seem ok to me, right now). I do not know what has gotten into me, I do not want a relationship right now, but maybe something inside me is longing for that kind of connection. I am my own puzzle.

Defining Poem

I have decided that I want to make a poem describing why I chose "Piercing the Madness" as the name of my Plog (poem blog).

"Do we really inhabit the same reality?"
I wonder with minds eye wandering through mists.

Peering through cold clouded glass,
fogged by my existence, and yours,
eyes searching the blizzard for more
than the walls of white
flakes viciously hurling themselves:
kamikazes with terrible purpose.
Yet the swirling day turns to the
frosted, teeming night,
The vigil of the virgins,
waiting for a sign, for a word, a glimpse.
Perhaps I can see someday,
perhaps I will pierce the madness.

theme song:
ps do not watch the video it is too silly and dumb