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By Hayden Veil - 23 March 2018

tomorrow I’ll make pancakes / whipped cream and strawberry jam / then sit around the table / with absent friends

axiomatic

I could write about love / correction / I could try and write about love / drawing from a lifetime of “experiences” / the question is why / why would I write about something / something which is as far-fetched as winning millions on lottery / why feed the dream / when the outcome / is inevitable

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By Hayden Veil - 22 March 2018

axiomatic

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By Hayden Veil - 22 March 2018

outside time and space

outside time and space / I exist not here / I exist not there / nowhere and everywhere / I close my eyes at sunrise / at dusk I come alive / in 2D space I roam / between pillars of ice / you will find my bones

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By Hayden Veil - 22 March 2018

for tomorrow

wrapping up the dinner plates / a whiff of port and fruit cake lingers / echoes of laughter ringing still / in silence I retire / making my bedding solely / preparing for a slumber rich / tomorrow a new day coming / I need vivid dreams this night / to make up the new lies / for tomorrow

to the human

By Hayden Veil - 21 March 2018

trixclibrarian:

it is hard
to befriend
you

when you are always
running the other
direction

time said

We are all gods

By Hayden Veil - 21 March 2018

jonaswpoetry:

One of the most beautiful realisations I’ve had

Is that there are worlds within us

That we can share through sights and sounds and ink

One of the most crippling observations I’ve had

Is that these worlds are so rarely seen

Because so few of us are able, and even fewer are willing

She was ever so haunted

By Hayden Veil - 21 March 2018

giraffevader:

Gravely shone her paling shadow,

          in silver whispers of death did her desire portray the beauty,

          the brevity of life,

                    and the briefest moments of love.

The perils of being human-

          born to live in this gloom,

and the shadows, the hidden echoes of pain

          that cry out to fulfill our doom.

In the haunting beauty of that invisible flame,

she cried,

          and on the shores of sweet delirium

          she lay, and softly died.

Resurrection

By Hayden Veil - 21 March 2018

katrinnac:

Blood rains from the dark sky
Racing down my windows
I’ve seen more shit than that
Bring it on, fuckers
Bring it on

I rose
And I rose
And I rose

Cockroaches surge from earth
Like a massive mudslide
I am more enduring
That’s all you’ve got, fuckers
Is that all

I rose
And I rose
And I rose

Tornadoes descend in mass
Ripping trees from the ground
I walk through with a yawn
I’m stronger than that
Bring it on, fuckers
Bring it on

I rose
And I rose
And I rose

Here is my secret
love was smeared in my face
innocence ripped from my gut
I’ve seen my soul dangle
Like a string behind me
And I rose
I rose
I rose
Like a kite on a string

@katrinnac

#poetryriotprompt

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By Hayden Veil - 21 March 2018

infranaut:

“At the moment of conception, the story exists as a superposition of possibility, idly waiting for someone to crack it. Waiting for someone to skip to the last page.”

—