Poetry & Prose

The winter storms are rising
and its time to wake the snow.
Listen to the heavens,
they’ll tell us where to go.

Steady on our feet,
watch our toes for frostbite;
we’ve got miles before the beach,
lets enjoy the starlight.

Elzaro | Watch The Sky

It’s the same words in a different order;
the same days in a different month.
It’s the same bed in a different corner;
the same fist with a different punch.

It’s new. It’s wonderful.

It’s the calm after a storm,
the lightning and the thunder.
It’s a nighmare turned to dreams
before I was torn asunder.

It’s magic in the moonlight
and the taste of spring rainstorms.
It’s when the world hasn’t changed a bit
but you feel complete, reborn.

It’s new. It’s wonderful.

Elzaro | It’s New

I was told the girl of my dreams
would have stars in her eyes
and when I looked,
I would see her soul
mirrored in a thousand suns radiating light.

I am so glad they were wrong.
I’ve been burning for so long
that I don’t need more fire.
I need the ocean. I need the waves.
I need the blue bliss
and currents pulling me into forever.
I am so glad that your eyes quench me, devour me,
swallow me whole and spit me out,
Wet and salty,
a happy man that will live
a few years longer.

But I won’t tell you this.
Because you don’t know how long I’ve been burning
and I don’t know if you’d want to let me swim in you forever.
I’ll just say you are beautiful
and your eyes sparkle oh such a majestic blue
because you deserve everything
and I don’t know if that’s me.

Elzaro25th December 2013

(via elzaro)

On days we rise to find that sleep
has woken the nights cruel torments
we should wait to speak, walk and run;
Let the sun break the hold of dreams.

Elzaro | Arise

On a moon filled night
I wandered down an empty road
and touched the stars beyond the dark
to lessen this hearts heavy load.

Upon daybreak I came to rest
with eyes shut tight against the sun;
for when we see beyond the dark
we are forced to ask - what have I become?

Elzaro | Journeys

I went out walking in the rain
and thought I heard a sound.
The purest form of flattery -
a lightning bolt hit ground.

Eyes of thunder
and words of cloud
she stole my feet away
and not too far
I saw them dancing
up on the milky way.

So listen closely
for these words are true
there’s a reason we do dance;
it’s for the hope we find that love
and give it half a chance.

ElzaroHalf a Chance (14th April 2014)

Quick Announcement

   Tomorrow I am leaving to go to Bluesfest (Byron Bay, Australia). The festival goes from the 17th - 22nd of April but I shall be driving up and back and will be most likely not putting up too much original content for a little over a week. (This depends on how bad my travel anxiety is). I will try do something but if nothing happens I will reblog photos and words from some of the talented writers and photographers I follow. 
  If anyone will be at this festival, hit me up.
  When I return I will be (hopefully) finishing my novella and posting the first draft for anyone to read. I will also be writing more short prose, poems and snippets. 
  And finally; I will be doing some form of giveaway for all my beautiful followers because I just hit 3k and that’s just ridiculous and you deserve something cool. 
  Thank you, 
   Mick :)

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
In thick black ink
we carve out those words
hoping someone will read them
and listen to the birds.

They crave many things
but if you listen to their song
they sing of only one true love
and that is to the family they belong.

So if you have a chance
to leave love at your feet
hopefully you’ll remember
the slow and mournful tweet
of a bird lost its family
and wandering a lonely world.
For we are all the same -
boy, woman, man and girl.

We all need a choir
and a big brass band,
all those little instruments
that go hand in hand,
but above all things we need
a reason to come home
when the world has gotten lonely
and we remember;
our family is where we belong.

ElzaroA Family Affair (12th April 2014)

A warning is a warning
no matter who it is that speaks
so listen for the waves turning
out on a dying breeze.

A red sun cast down on the waves;
as they waded in the shallow.;
They counted the clouds below the horizon
with their eyes half closed —
waiting for the tide to change
and sweep them onto the shore.

The moon was gone
and their lungs were tired.

They settled down for another night
with their hands whispering of possible smiles
and lips listening for a storm.
Soon the sun sank and they were left
with nothing but the unspoken words
in their hearts
thumping to the steady beat
of the open ocean.

If you listen closely
you can hear them floating
on the distant sea.
They whisper gently of the purest love
as the waves set them free.

A warning is a warning
no matter who it is that speaks
so listen for the waves turning
out on a dying breeze.

ElzaroThe Unspoken Ocean (11th April 2014)

i don’t pay attention to the
world ending.
it has ended for me
many times
and began again in the morning.

Nayyirah Waheed (via yasodhara)

(Source: nayyirahwaheed)

I wrote you a poem
in the middle of the night
when the stars weren’t there
to guide me
and I needed a light.

Elzaro(7 March 2014)

Silence bursting with violence
leaks through cracks in the pavement
as I walk my dog beside the sea;
it waits beneath the crust of dirt and concrete
hoping for a change in weather.
Will my feet know the safest place
when my eyes are closed - blocking out the rain -
instead of looking for the way.

Elzaro | Open Labyrinths (09 April 2014)

In pleasure there lies
a simple blade - ready to sever.
She waits for the moment
when ecstasy blooms
and we have the furthest to fall.
It is our job to impale only our limbs
for our hearts and minds
may not ever truly heal.


Please step lightly
around your weapon of choice
for it is not always a blade
or a gun,
sometimes we find pleasure in pain
and through it all
we can come undone.

ElzaroRisks (07 April 2014)

In the breaking moments
between the half opened doorway
we find a fracturing soul.

It lends itself to back alleys
and empty street corners
the way a shadow eats our feet -
always running, always stumbling;
always trying harder and harder
and losing more ground with each breath.

In the breaking moments
of a man lost in himself
we find nothing but empty words.

ElzaroEmpty Words (06 April 2014)

There is a noise inside my chest
that sounds of aching poetry
and though the beat is a steady drum
the words are broken pottery.

ElzaroBroken Poetry (04 April 2014)