leo_scamander

Insanity is essence.. Poetry is solace..

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  • leo_scamander 16w

    Monsoon train of thought...

    Strangers upstairs spilt their pitcher of crystal tears tonight
    How it drip drops on the foggy glass panes now
    Why is it they're still blue , those sat on heavenly stairs
    Or is purgatory not a place but a Mirage of the misled mind
    Perhaps I shall reside my heart in inferno
    even as i rinse my limbs in Eden springs
    Perhaps my tears should rush onto the panes of another gray soul
    And then perhaps they would wonder
    'bout spotting their Bane in a silver mirror

    But what if they were to be tears of mirth
    If they were mothers and little brothers
    looking upon their loves
    Starry eyed, a vision of pride
    What if they were to be the first dewdrops
    that slipped off a pink tulip
    from the threshold of the goddesses kind


    I should rest easy tonight, fingers tracing the racing drops
    down the frosty windows
    Heart content but never so much as a state of euphoria
    Purgatory and paradise arrives when it does
    But the ride slithers by the gates of heavens highest echelons
    So I'll wait crescent smiles and Misty eyes...

    ©leo_scamander

  • leo_scamander 19w

    Poe's raven...

    Melancholy borrows every night of mr poe

    Lenore , his holy grail and the raven, his haunting foe

    The ghouls of his lover
    interspersed his conscience forever more

    He could only be reminiscent, for the raven said nevermore...


    ©leo_scamander

  • leo_scamander 20w

    Once in love...

    The day you forget her
    Eyes,
    Periwinkle
    December
    Dream,
    Eyes.
    She'll
    Close
    Her
    eyes
    The day you forget her


    ©leo_scamander

  • leo_scamander 21w

    Settling for less in life.. #wod #life #haiku @writersnetwork @miraquill

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    Dreamt I'd wed the moon
    Ladders o'er ladders went stale
    Swore fireflies are moons...


    ©leo_scamander

  • leo_scamander 22w

    A slow heartburn ...

    Dip a beak into the gushing spring that never slights
    My mind is a reckless brothel
    awaiting your footfall, just to hear it fade into the lights
    My body is slave to the coffee corporate
    The Browns in your eyes could never compete
    So I'll leave these heart strings to ponder the nuance of 'love'
    They'd always lead to collections of Plath and the loss of Lenore
    There are no more tales of woe to brew
    Dead poets painted it for you...

    ©leo_scamander

  • leo_scamander 23w

    Where the snowflake sleeps...

    December skies unfurl tomorrow
    My word, to stride the frosty breeze and fly
    Dressed in Bit of a scent from the seventh heaven
    And Much love I gathered from the cloaked firs
    Perhaps I'd settle on the pastel peaches of a queens orchard
    Perhaps on the cheek of a daisy that dances on a painted hill
    But my oh my would I yearn
    to find home in a love letter ,
    One that he writes by the chilly open shutters
    Your name embossed in brazen letters,
    His cheeks flushed, he'd swear it was just the weather
    Oh' to sleep amidst the flames of young lovers untethered...

    ©leo_scamander

  • leo_scamander 23w

    Citrus breeze teased,
    The autumnal monarch ,spilling kisses
    O' Sweet summer daydreams...


    ©leo_scamander

  • leo_scamander 23w

    December boy

    December boy, he took my breath away
    Icicle eyes could chill hell and all its fiery walls
    Sheila and mary, they warned me of frostbite,
    I'd only call it the numb from biting into the core of a sweet ice cream
    December boy left me in the bathtub with roses spilling out my lips
    He took my breath away,as he always did....


    ©leo_scamander

  • leo_scamander 24w

    #howto #wod @miraquill @writersnetwork

    Draughts shouldn't haunt your pretty bedroom
    Nor should the the outliers see
    Your abysmally bothersome state of affairs
    Drapes should sit just right
    Velvet for finesse,
    cotton to smite large nosed Neighbours

    Naked walls are scandalous
    Paintings of some obscure French name is where it's at
    Flush down mediocrity, it ushers such enigma
    Ah sweet is the essence of forged artistry

    A genial greeting should charm them off their feet
    Woollen 'welcome' rugs deliver flawlessly
    rids the dust off all men and women that walked into your life
    Only ever to look at the roses and pity the undone hedges
    The welcome font would soon fade,
    yet they wouldn't pause dead at their trails

    Such is the Bible of interior decor,
    Pretty the lawn, pretty the halls and rooms
    Even if the paint peels at corners
    and the doorhinges groan
    When you're done, the world should shed a wry smile
    And you'll go to bed in silk pyjamas and vacuous eyes...


    ©leo_scamander

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    A rational guide to interior decor

  • leo_scamander 25w

    Lessons of an unrich man...

    Wise men of the collegiate kind
    Filled and filled my trough with office stats
    and lust for a golden penny
    Plastered medallions unto the last inch of my painted walls
    O'er all old portraits of family done in sharpies and crayola
    Their Twiglike limbs and crescent smiles

    The wise men left me with a grey Mane and worry lines
    coughing crimson into a golden mug
    I'd wish and wish then, to see a shard of the painted skies
    I'm learning to live with my foot in a six feet bed...


    ©leo_scamander