Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Stitched Up With Wrongs

My feet cannot move to their music
For there's barely any melody
It sounds mostly like repetitive
Tap, tap, tapping
My body is not rigid, but fluid
It dips melodically
Incapable of robotic
One, two, three-ing
My voice cracks and whispers
My lips speak of lust
Their's automatically responds
With what is just
My arms can't act out their charades
My logic can't perform their parody
It's mostly too rehearsed
One, two , three-acting
I cannot dance to their rhythm
Nor sing their worship songs
I was never made for this
I'm all stitched up with wrongs

By: Elizabeth Azpurua

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Roses Red

anger is a fist
anger is a scream
anger is a yell
a nightmare not a dream
don't ever ask them why
the angry often cry
anger hurts them both
anger doesn't lie

shatter all the moments
in record breaking time
angry at the loss
angry at the crime

let it out...

she said paint her roses red
she wanted them painted red
nothing mattered then
but that
'why aren't my roses red
did you hear what I had said?'
the moment came and went
at that

anger is a fist
anger is a scream
roses torn a part
by Alice in a dream
she doesn't know why
she began to cry
angry at the Queen
anger doesn't lie

the looking glass is shattered
in record breaking time
angry now and cross
angry at the crime

let it all out now
shout it all out now

roses remained white
such a bright sight
Alice left that night
she didn't want to fight


by: Elizabeth Azpurua

Friday, September 19, 2014

From "Your Blue Eyes Meet My Brown"

Taken from the poem "Your Blue Eyes Meet My Brown"

You and I are of the same cloth
Your blue eyes meet my brown
the way the mountains reach
up towards the sky
I don't now words poetic enough for this

Read in the book "The Sky and Sea Are Lovers"

By Elizabeth Azpurua

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Frenzied Passion Dance

The lamp glows soft and casts light across
the bars of this golden headboard here
and soft beneath my knees this bed
spill me across these cotton sheets
this overwhelming lust for touch
and breath that heats my cheek
My palms are damp with seeking you
and nearly at the edge
your lips against my shoulders and
your teeth that graze my neck
those hands that grasp or hold me close
and eyes that do entrance
I can't seem to catch my breath here now
this frenzied passion dance
and feel that overwhelming strength
this journey in your hands
To turn around and touch your curls
all blonde that kiss your brows
and ache to feel your fingertips
undoing me there now
Your eyes enrapture pools of blue
and lips that steal my soul
my release I fly to heights for you
and together feeling whole
the time is short don't break the moment
and steal away until I find you again

By: Elizabeth Azpurua


Saturday, September 13, 2014

From Abigail....

How long will they keep me from nourishment?  
It's been three days. 
Don't they know I'll become ravenous?  
Maybe they want me ravenous.
Set me up for failure.  A little game.  
I'll play this game, but they won't win.  
Maybe I'll just eat one of their friends.  
Just tear a chunk out of someone's neck.  
The thought is making my saliva come.  I swallow and wait. 

Excerpt from Abigail

By: Elizabeth Azpurua

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Diddle Your Fears

Hey diddle diddle
Let me tell you a riddle
What is big and is little
Like a storm or a trickle
Might be severe or fickle
More than a tat or tittle
Caught on the outs or the middle
Can you tell me what's the riddle?
It could be great or be little
Like a river or a trickle
It's a problem that can whittle
You on down until you're brittle
And you break down the middle
It's your fears, big or little
Don't you be non-committal
They can become exponential
Far more than just a trickle
Bring you down , diddle diddle
Bring you down

By Elizabeth Azpurua