April's Diamonds

[Ganyu]

April's Diamonds
~ A Collection of Poetry by Ghostwriter ~

So I haven't been writing a lot of poetry lately and I just happen to come across a poetry challenge that requires a poem to be written every day, based off a given prompt. I just wanted a place to track my daily progress and I guess posting them somewhere works somewhat as a form of motivation. IDK. Guess you'll have to put up with whatever crap I'm writing.

---

1. Fooled
They never expected it. They had it coming.
They should have known
that when mellow March was gone,
feisty April would come out to play.
Her art of lying so perfected,
Her schemes carefully executed.
They fell for the contrived,
screaming and cursing as they realized
that the doors were made of glass,
and that the veils were paper thin,
that the pitfalls had always been laid
bare beneath their noses,
if only they had cared to check the calendar.

April loves to spring mischief.
Some victims bristle their breeches,
and looking more the fool.
Some humor our sweet jester,
and bracing themselves for more.
But they all learn quickly,
for she's a good tutor,
to appreciate the silly, the folly,
the wacky and the cockamamy,
and most importantly,
to let go.

2. The insignificant musings
He said words that never existed,
words that could not be heard,
words that could not be fathomed.
When he spoke, the words came out
through stolen glances and bright blushes,
through lingering gazes and handshakes,
through trembling fingers and lip bites.
The words were velvet curtains draped over windows,
shrouding the room in saccharine shadows.
The words were winter’s ephemera printed on glass,
rivulets trickling away under the summer sun.
They were written in the ink of ashes,
on the blank bones bound in codices,
narrating what the universe whispered to him
about life and death, love and loss,
the sun and the moon, and the stars
he always saw when he closed his eyes.
They showed to him how one small word
could contain the immaculate infinities.

3. The Three Brothers
Their origins singular,
Their differences many.
From the same essence,
they were meant to balance.

One was quiet and dark
Like the event horizon, the abyss whose
gravity swallows all light and sound.

One was fickle and moody
Like the pulsating supernovas that
sculpt galaxies with nebulas.

One was firm, strict and stern
Like the orbits of stars, the spine
of the universe, giving eternal pause.

[Ganyu]

4. Between heaven and earth
Separated by an endless blue,
by labyrinths of concrete and asphalt,
by the rivers of time, the racetracks of the sun and moon,
we are dust, scattered across the ends of the world,
specks of insignificance that gaze at the skies in awe,
our glow diminished by the starlit cosmos.
We can only speculate the nature of the universe's bride,
the truth behind the astral veil unfathomable to us,
the wedding between time, space and darkness
held in a cosmic church where angels are real
and we are but illusions conceived by the greatest conjurer.

[Chibi Altaria]

Glad to see you start another poetry thread. C: I always do enjoy it.

You have such a way with words, I really hope you'll write more for us!

[Suicune's Fire]

Very cool. c: Maybe I should take a leaf out of your book and write every day as well. xD Does it provide you with a prompt or do you create your own?

I loved the one about the brothers and the one before that. In the brothers one, you wrote "event horizon" which I assume is meant to be "even."

[Ganyu]

Glad to see you start another poetry thread. C: I always do enjoy it.

You have such a way with words, I really hope you'll write more for us!

Aww thanks!

Very cool. c: Maybe I should take a leaf out of your book and write every day as well. xD Does it provide you with a prompt or do you create your own?

I loved the one about the brothers and the one before that. In the brothers one, you wrote "event horizon" which I assume is meant to be "even."

Prompts are issued out everyday, just click on the poetry challenge link and you'll be able to view all prompt posts.

Event horizons are in layman's terms, black holes or the point of no return. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Event_horizon

[Suicune's Fire]

Prompts are issued out everyday, just click on the poetry challenge link and you'll be able to view all prompt posts.

Event horizons are in layman's terms, black holes or the point of no return. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Event_horizon

Oh awesome. c: Sounds cool. Have you done anything like it before?

My bad! XD Thought I'd picked up on a typo. Awesome. ;3

[Ganyu]

Oh awesome. c: Sounds cool. Have you done anything like it before?

My bad! XD Thought I'd picked up on a typo. Awesome. ;3

Nope, this is my first time ever taking a hand at a poetry challenge. :3

[Suicune's Fire]

Nope, this is my first time ever taking a hand at a poetry challenge. :3

Oh nice! 8D Well, I look forward to more. c:

[Ganyu]

5. Grinding
A goblin, a slime,
Another thing to slay.
It's an endless process,
It's a mindless game.
Wanting to be the very best,
Wanting to be above the rest,
We clean through dungeons
slaughtering dragons.
Looting and farming
for intangible digits
just to level up.

Even in reality, we go through the grind,
putting words, without life, on paper,
always crunching the numbers.
The dungeons are now that diner
in which you worked part-time at,
that internship at a law firm,
those college summer classes,
the inter-state robotics competition.
The dragons are now those who
convert minutes into money,
sitting atop the corporate ladder
like Smaug in Lonely Mountain,
who see you as a piece of loot,
a satchel of gold coins,
a bunch of experience.

6. Horizon


Today's chapter ends;
Tomorrow is a new page.
The sunset bookmark.

Together we write
our story on the skyline.
Crepuscular words.

Friendships forged along
our journey through time and space.
A new dawn awaits.

A/N: The prompt was to write an ekphrastic poem so I chose one of my favorite PMD fan art pieces.

7. Doodle
A doodle
starts off with a line,
a scribble, a scrawl,
perhaps a few dots here and there,
with vague shapes and ideas slowly
taking form,
like a lump of clay on a turntable,
sculpting itself into a sketch, a prototype.
It builds itself up, the minute details are added,
the skeleton solidifies, the sternum set in place, the femur formed.
The body is complete yet empty;
a shell, a silhouette,
a dress ready for fitting
simply waiting to be worn.

[Ganyu]

7. Urban Wanderlust
Midnight city escapades
Alleyway adventures

City skyline twinkles
Motorway constellations

Lost in the concrete jungle
Follow the trail of signposts

Bright billboards illuminate overhead
Vagabonds swaddled in cardboard

Sirens singing on the streets
Underground subway gigs

Drunk in a parking lot
Passed out on asphalt

Street lamps flicker out
First light breaks

Ghostly wanderers chase their souls
Back into suburban sepulchers

9. Bibliotheca
Surrounded by worlds within words,
by people within pages,
by font-clad thoughts,
by dreams dressed in metaphors,
by the smell of paper and ink,
of vellum and leather.

This is my silent sanctum.
This is my tranquil temple.
Where heroes are immortalized
alongside galleries of rogues.
Where steam whales fly in the sky,
and shamans read signs in the stars.
Where snow-bearded dictators rule,
and clocks strike thirteen in April.
Where serif shadows clash against papyrus light.
Where saints are sinners and sinners are saved.
This is my clandestine church,
where I pray in poetry and prose.
Paying homage to Alexandria,
hidden from the world.