Cakes soaked in honey and promises heavy with the years promised..the description of love. The truth..lonely nights with pillows suffering the tales we tell them, and knees hugged till they’re tired. Yes, nights may come when you’ll learn you have the talent of poets..a truth most know. This heartache will pass, and with its passing, gifts fit for a king they will offer. Noah_arkenswagg


The poet

I realised recently that this… ability,  is not a curse. Being able to whip out a pen and then colour storms, or decide in what shade a princess blushes…. It’s not a curse that every time someone makes me smile,  they might be drawn into words and held up high for all to see. Neither is it so bad that making me sad will have you fighting dragons by the third line. I have this power… And I choose to make hearts respond to my thoughts. Noah_arkenswagg 


What was I to you, dear muse. What stories will you tell your friends about me. Was I prince charming? I guess not, otherwise I would have been asking what you’d like to do today. Rather I write upon old paper with a pen I haven’t used in ask. What was I to you dear muse? And then I’m smiling right now as I prepare to toss this letter in the trash… right after this…                      Noah_arkenswagg  

Hands of timešŸ•›

Scared of the dark, the shadows all have faces brighter than a smile. The nothingness is enough to scare one who’s heart is always filled with ..emotion?, sometimes…stories?, often. I cannot remain empty, and yet the darkness dictates to me otherwise ..that what once was there, will not always be..especially as perception changes, and time decides to peek through her veiled world to watch me from behind a palmed face. Peek-a-boo at the stroke of midnight…a shadowy waltz begins. Noah_arkenswagg.


Whispers turned to shouts as each one clamoured to be heard. Secrets divulged, and trumpets blown simply to stay in the black… The center of attention. Everyone wants to matter.. And so what matters becomes the question… Golden silence, or a heart on a sleeve. Noah_arkenswagg 


Here on a roof, chin on a raised knee, are you the song I’m listening to? Will tangled earphones spell your name, or will the strolling wind deliver a memory by smell?

Here on a balcony, Princes and princesses colour the floor of the ball room…and I still can’t find you. I wonder if you’ll arrive before midnight or if  the maestro will keep his promise and wait for our dance.

I’ll always look up to chance with the next song in my playlist or arrive on a bike rather than coach..surprise me oh love of my life. Noah_arkenswagg

Weather girl

She simply wanted the attention that comes with the uncommon ingredient of love. To demand what was rightfully her’s just as thunder and lightning claimed the attention of every sense, cutting streaks across the sky that tickles retinas and makes heart beats reluctantly speed up. And does she not deserve it? A beauty with galaxies for irises.. Does the touch of electric blue love not belong to her fingertips? Noah_arkenswagg  


How many times will you strike your hands against walls? How many times will you rock yourself to sleep? How many goodbyes will you whisper into an empty room? How many questions will you scribble down before you finally pull the pillows closer,  and then rephrase these same good byes? In every accent, language or art form.. Goodbye will forever remain the words that cause spines to shiver and an icy heart to catch fire. Noah_arkenswagg 

Desert roseĀ 

With a name like the desert and hair like the night sky…an Arabian princess. Will you let me count the stars by your side? Will the dawn whisper your name as you become the world to me? Oh how perfect your name the desert, how wild your smile is, like a lone rose..a slow waltz with the wind. Oh how beautiful it is to see a red dress dancing with the wind. Noah_arkenswagg

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