American library books Β» Poetry Β» Rhythm and Rhyme by Kelsey Schrag (best classic books of all time txt) πŸ“•

Read book online Β«Rhythm and Rhyme by Kelsey Schrag (best classic books of all time txt) πŸ“•Β».   Author   -   Kelsey Schrag



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Volkswagen

He gazed out at the raod.

The air was freezing around us.

He turned his head and beamed at me.

 

A big, well oiled smile.

He became a restless motor because of a car

Moving slowly in front of us.

 

He swerved to pass.

Time stopped.

We were headed straight toward another car.

 

Like all machines,

He broke

But quickly started again. 

 

He steered back into the right lane,

Throwing everything to the right side of the Bug.

And then to the left as the car bounced.

 

Breathing didn't start again until we were safe.

All safe in the arms of a machine

Inside a machine.

Morning Joy

Eyes pushed down by force,

The air suffocating around her.

Mountains of blankets

Held her captive.

Squished between five pillows.

Welcoming the hostage feel,

She was so warm.

Comfortable.

She had to get up.

Screaming to get up.

No way.

Just a few more minutes.

She didn't have minutes to spare.

RING!

Blaring in her ear,

The most annoying tune.

"Shut up!"

She exclaims.

Groaning, she rose to her feet.

So cold.

So unsteady.

Staggering to the bathroom.

 

Infinity

Infinities I seek.

With you I'm home.

With you I'm alive.

Thank you for a little

Infinity.

Songs

Three songs all ready to learn

In a time span of three to four weeks.

So much pressure and notice to earn.

 

Understanding and learning

A new language, just for one performance.

Three songs all ready to learn.

 

One in English, one in Latin, and

One in Italian.

So much pressure and notice to earn.

 

Italian is such a beautiful language, 

But hard to pronounce and read.

Three songs all ready to learn.

 

All melodies graceful and precise.

All for me to make even more beautiful with voice.

So much pressure and notice to earn.

 

The two events are two days apart.

One a concert and one a convention.

Three songs all ready to learn.

 

In this moment, I'm just breathing.

I will learn them in time for the judgement.

Three songs all ready to learn.

So much pressure and notice to earn.

Tempest

Wind raging, rain pouring.

Merry music ringing, 

Despite the great storm.

 

Clapping and dancing,

Girls in grand dresses,

And one pure; connected to another.

 

Tempest watching through the window,

Enjoying and chuckling to himself.

Tempest having only one purpose.

 

Not to see the joyous occasion,

But what he would bring;

Crashing down on peasants and royals.

 

Tempest raised his smoky hand,

Clouds darkening on command.

 

Rain advancing,

Lightning enhancing,

The sea rising, 

And all cheerful sound ceasing.

 

A blanket of suffocation,

Destroying and whipping

The gladness from the Earth.

 

A Father's Work

She tiptoed to the musty basement,

Every stair creaking under her feet.

Hearing the clicking of keys and a mouse,

Her father focused.

 

A small squeaking voice wondering,

"What are you doing?"

 

Sparking a conversation, 

She laid on the torn blue couch.

Her eyes threatening to close.

Conversation boring her.

 

Eyelids forcing shut,

Then, all so suddenly,

 

She fell asleep.

Mute,

Until she regained consciousness

In her father's arms,

 

Which carried her

At 2:30 in the morning.

Little Chair in a Little Corner

I sit on my piano bench feeling numb.

The numbness spreads throughout my whole body.

The whole world is crashing down all at once and I can’t stop it.

I’m alive.

That is the only thing I’m sure of.

Emotions fly around like they are filled with light hearted happiness.

The only problem is that happiness is

Out of sight and out of mind.

I imagine the scene of a cold,

Pale one and I cringe.

The life is gone and the warmth is gone;

Replaced by ice in black linen.

Crying and screaming fills the silence within like a knife ripping apart flesh.

Heartbroken and forlorn,

I sit dully on a

Little chair in a little corner.

Flesh

The sound of the withering waters beside the chamber.

The harsh tone of the basilisk's cry.

Stand before him with sword in hand.

See the eyes glowing with yellow poison.

The blood that penetrates the body in seconds.

The fang in the flesh of the hero.

The girl laying deadly cold on the stone surface. 

Beads of water streaking her red hair.

Skin ghostly white.

The sound of her breathing dulling.

The hero in agonizing pain.

Tears wading through his dirt stained face. 

The ink of the diary spilling over the stone surface.

The evil spirt crumbling, and fading.

The memory ceasing and disappearing.

The girl lay alive on the stone.

In a World Full of Light

In a world full of light,

there is one place that is full of darkness.

A darkness more dark than any of us humans can comprehend,

But even in the darkest of dark there is light.

This light may be hard to see at first,

But if you look closer,

You just might be captivated by how quickly it can encircle you,

Even more surprised when the darkness swallows you back into the abyss.

Was it fantasy? 

Just a Girl

 

I’m nothing special.

I’m just a girl.

A girl with dreams.

A girl with hopes.

A girl who wants the best in life.

No one can have a life without troubles.

One has to hope.

One has to dream.

Blank With Love

Whenever

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