Lyricfountain

Ink floweth not through this pen i hold. Only rawest emotion, brazen and bold... All works under copyright - please dont steal, it's not nice.......besides, Karma's a bitch.

[nathensurman]

Max.

[lyricfountain]

#maxmundan

#poetry

#originalTWC

#RIP

[verbalassuage-deactivated201603]

Day’s like today I need to remember that energy is a constant. I am trying to stay above the water. I am not sure how I am doing. Up one minute and hit with life issues that seem out of control, the next, I am ready for some positive things to happen in my life, my kids lives, my family sure could use it. 

[nathensurman]

Fortune’s favour

Who among you would take the first step timid and trembling, upon sands or seas; on yesterdays carried on the breeze?

Would the knowing strengthen your stride? Sure footed, faultless, as neon imprints mark an exposed path across unfurling dark?

Towards the glow of promised days ahead, on and on as charcoal barrens grow Who among you would dare to let go?

.

Look sharp! the edges dull, a second glance reveals what chance mistook Take heed! horizons shift, as mimicry grants focus to textures overlooked

.

Morning light lends fire to faith; faith, in turn, sets courage alight. With these flames, these guiding rays, all fear, it flees, and hearts grow bold Emboldened hearts tug spirits forward, and nothing can resist the desire. So step once, twice; onwards stride! Fortune favours the brave, it’s told…..  

[nathensurman]

Abiogenesis

It’s cold and dark outside

but only one of those is true where I am.

She’s fitting things together nicely

and I’m thinking about how life began.

My nose whistles.

My ear is ringing.

And everything

is perfect.

Just like the cold, dark universe

promised.

[lyricfountain]

Daffodils

Buried not so far

as to leave them lost to all

Dormant, soon to burst

free from husks and frozen earth

Reaching for warmth, light and life

[nathensurman]

Lady Silver

Winter has exhaled,

having no patience for Fall.

Pale is her breath;

silver, and she whispers thus:

“Speak not of Death, I am she.”

[nathensurman]

The Maple’s Bride

Autumn holds it’s breath. Beauty walks ‘neath cobalt skies, gentle is her gait. Serenity follows close. Momiji pause, blush and sway. 

Japanese Woman Among Fall Leaves - Haruyo Morita

[nathensurman]

Objet d’art

On tip-toes, she reaches, as the roar dies down It’s 3am again, i’m told You can peer through windows all you like, at me, but i’m a pedestal, not a centerfold “Connor should have won”, says the ink on my fingers And already it’s getting old

‘Reaching for the Moon’ - Maxfield Parrish ‘Cross Roads’ - Antonio Basso ‘Laughing Boy’ - William Merritt Chase ‘Night Skies’ - Unknown ‘Starry Night Sky’ - Glitched Ryu

Arrangement & Poetry - Nathen Surman 

[nathensurman]

Cherry Blossom to The Night

Despair - fall away!  See how darkness has no hold? Fleeting, is beauty. So too, life and night and love. Do you dare to bloom like me?

Cherry Blossom on Mt. Bizan in Tokushima - Photographer Unknown

[nathensurman]

Third Time’s the Charm

Tensions rise as madmen to power who favour a mushroom over a flower Beating of chests in mansion and tower while the world knows not what to do It’s easy to say it’s all bluff and bravado A later night sitcom, a scripted tv show             Until it’s too late……..

[nathensurman]

Driftwood

Driftwood, like tangled limbs or lost letters, told us of far off, foreign places without a word

Written in their white, salt-lined passages, simple, unromantic poetry often misheard

“A day will come and we will wash ashore, like we were never even drowning in the first place

Until then, stranger, breathe long and deep You’ll find the salt gives it a somewhat distracting taste”

[nathensurman]

Seadreaming

This subtle death, this gentle dark creaks about me without want or woe An old friend, with curling sail, safe, adrift on a nightmare undertow I give myself over to tradewind’s folly, a gull’s cry leading, as ever i go

Chasing dreams and far-flung shores, through the inky, salt-laced night I ponder ancient treasure maps whilst crouched beside the candlelight as kraken, beneath the surface glassy, plot to unmast me with unholy might

A storm nips hard at my well worn heels, though, ironic winds keep me abreast and safe Ragged lightning lays horizon bare, casting shadows grim of revenant and wraith But neither tempest rising nor visions of Hell can untangle the bowline of my faith

For the ocean is vast, from bay to port, and i am but a flotsam speck Accepting i live by Neptune’s whim is bountiful tact to keep me in check No fear can touch me, no more than the wind. My resolve is as strong as this oaken deck

[nathensurman]

Unhurried Choices

Two paths to ponder, a door betwix Pavers, black, beneath protesting feet Would scarlet signposts dare suggest the possible ends, in words discreet?

Sun-kissed by cerulean skies, warm walls softly beg repose As if to offer proper ponderance  before the truth, in time, disclosed

Poetry - Nathen Surman Photography - http://scottygraham.com/?p=2741

[nathensurman]

Unchained

Love locked, love kept. I would rather love be free Free from rust, free from rain. Without need for a key

[nathensurman]

Drowsy downpour

A steady thrumming sets my blood tempo as the swollen Earth drinks diamonds, ceaseless. Two birds dive down - or drown, i cannot tell - and disappear between treetop pieces.

The sky looks tired, grey smokers-breath ragged, and heavy, drooping low, seeking repose. Tempest soft, I’ll use her for a blanket; thunder, deepening lullaby composed 

[nathensurman]

Storm Path

Brown, the river jogging by Grey, the angry Autumn sky Silver over black, the street, wincing under rhythmic feet

Ten, the hour slipping past Eleven, finish line approaching fast Twelve the herald, a brand new day as puddles mark my winding way

[nathensurman]

The Devil wears a suit

Age sixteen, drowning in new art and folk Dark of eye, a voice like honey and smoke Right hand red, spotlight shining vibrant black Poetry, melancholy teen sound track Visceral, haunting murderous misdeeds Held in thrall, flowering from these bad seeds 

[nathensurman]

Worn Washers

Does she fall too fast? Rushing headlong to the sea from dark, cavernous tunnels borne of stone and fire. Ripples for a eulogy