"Biohazard" By Elissa Rosenthal

Biohazard

By Elissa Rosenthal

Syringes of toxins pierce the shriveled spiderwebs under my skin.
Mortal,
cherry red
nutrients is drawn out like a verbose speech.
The push and pull
of an uneven tug of war match
drags my body along the ground
which sandpapers me into nothingness.
My body is a nuclear reactor 
full of slow deaths 
of people I do not know.
I see needles as my eyes close for the last time,
wishing they were cat scratches 
from the one who truly knew me. 

Glowing Hope

Glowing Hope

By Elissa Rosenthal 

 

Glowing radiant hope,

touched my fingers with a tingle of electricity.

My heart bounded like a hamster,

wishing their wheel was an escape route.

"What is this?", I whispered in the darkness, and looked upon the orb.

I could still hear the drip coming from the broken pipe, from which I would drink.

The bruised apple with a piece eaten still laid next to the pile of abandoned misfit pieces I used as a bed.

The light was new.

To the world and I,

this light was new.

My mouth expressed a gasp,

as I saw that the light was coming from me.

Black Money

Black Money

By Elissa Rosenthal

I gave up my dreams to serve you,

toxic overlays of unrest.

Sleepless gasping on dead waste,

clogs your nightmares.

Gaping holes filled with money,

so sticky they pull you into,

the consumption.

You crave for needs not met by your own,

filling your graveyard with the dead touch,

of long dead beings,

so you feel like you have at least received,

gentleness from something.

Sweet Tea

Sweet Tea

by Elissa Rosenthal 

Lulling breezes glide against my puckered up flesh,

Leaning toward the cool embrace full of fresh,

Lillie's, old spring daffodils, morning tea pulled through mesh,

Let me keep this feeling of being blessed.

Looking out the window I do not feel alone,

Loving how this quite house now feels like a home,

Leave me and let me live with this feeling I have sewn,

Lifting up the piece of pottery I used to condone. 

Lips filled with sweet fragrance and relished calm,

Lucky me to have this time of peace within my palm,

Little figures brush against the porcelain consuming the warmth of the dawn,

Living like this I know with not last long.     

Wave Lengths

 Wave Lengths

by Elissa Rosenthal

 

Radiant wave lengths prevent me from sleep,

Tilling on the edge of reality,

Kept in a box of normality,

Filled with the blues of originality.

See,

I may not wish to wake,

In this wish-washy world,

Forced to make myself look like bird,

Peacocking.

I,

Want to be who I am meant to be,

Whether or not that is,

In this reality.

You,

May never want me to be,

Anything but your perception of me,

Forcefully.

Keep,

Your mind out of my memories,

Those you said know one else would see,

See my ways,

See my work,

Never want to talk to me.

Now,

I know,

You say that to your self.

Your fear of being put on a shelf,

And forgotten.

Seek,

Some help,

Some comfort,

Don't tell me that words don't hurt.

I can learn,

To love myself,

And not have little self deprecating voices,

Depict,

Who I will be.

Love

Love

By Elissa Rosenthal

Stillness is lead by scared little whispers,

Wishing for the breath to hold their caring.

Carefully treading through the thoughts of love,

Life at their fingertips still unknowing.

Unimportance claims the thoughts of the weak, 

Crystallizing their fears of being one.

Old thoughts of harsh reality floods mind,

Keep the whispers safe and keep whispers kind.

Love of ones' self creates love is ones' mind.

Sparkling Nothingness

Sparkling Nothingness

By Elissa Rosenthal

Complacent populations stand around a fire made of sparkling nothingness.

They claim a need for beauty that presents no emotion.

They conceal wonder created by the unknown.

Contorting their natural instincts, 

they flail themselves and others,

in search for meaning.

Cannibalistic,

conquests,

of mind and body.

Stair into the crystallized nothingness.

Let the corruption seep into your veins.

Contort your natural instincts and flail.

💙FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER @TheElissaPost: HERE

💚LIKE MY FACEBOOK FAN PAGE: HERE

💜FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: HERE

💛GET EMAIL NOTIFICATIONS BY PUTTING YOUR EMAIL INTO THE FOLLOW BY EMAIL FEATURE.  

New Moon Meditation

By Elissa Rosenthal

Hello Everyone! This week I based my art around the new moon, which occurred on the 25th. I have always enjoyed the different moon cycles, and with being pagan, I base some of my spiritual practices around them. 

I originally tried doing a drawing of a gal looking down while the full moon was behind her, but that one did not turn out so well. The reason was mostly because I started coloring it in with colored pencils, and did them too hard too quickly. So, the sketch quickly started turning into a pile of blue pigment, so I stopped coloring it in, so I would still have a reference to go from if I want to do the idea again. 

For this sketch I really wanted to still go with the same theme however, so instead of doing a moon behind her I did a mandala with the phases of the moon within the mandala. Plus, instead of coloring in the image with colored pencil, I went with a pen outline. I may in the future copy the image and color it in, but for now this is what it looks like. 

I imagine that she is a girl named Neila, who is meditating during the night, calming herself before needing to go to sleep. She normally sees the moon outside of her window, casting a glow within the room, and chasing away the shadows. This is why on the nights of the new moon she becomes scared and tense, in need of some relief. So she sits and reminds herself how the moon is still there and will appear again soon.  

New Moon Meditation Poem

By Elissa Rosenthal

Absent, distant, dark beauty from a far,

Hidden, concealed, from your love, the star.

The sky is dark, only small specks of dust,

Of far away planets, we now entrust.

Meditating, thoughts grow dark and weary,

Luna, love, light the sky, make us merry.

We all miss your beauty, your love, your light,

Please, give us all hope you will be alright.

Thank you for reading my blog! If you wish to follow me you can:

👉FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER @TheElissaPost: HERE

👉LIKE MY FACEBOOK FAN PAGE: HERE

👉FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: HERE

👉FOLLOW BY EMAIL BY PUTTING YOUR EMAIL INTO THE FOLLOW BY EMAIL 

Ultramarine: A Poem Inspired By Watercolor Landscape

By Elissa Rosenthal

Hello Everyone! This week I started to delve deeper into watercolor, having now bought proper watercolor paper. The difference I have found is great in the lack of the paper buckling and creating pools where the color wanted to go. Now the surface is much more even when I paint, making it easier to distribute the color.

Anyway, since the character and poem was so popular last week, in comparison to my other kinds of posts on average, I have decided to provide you with another poem. This one is inspired by the landscape painting I did below. I was practicing on painting with no prior planning, just letting the paint tell me what to do with it. 

Ultramarine 

By Elissa Rosenthal

Crisp oxygen filtered through new pollen.

Thundering movement kisses the mountain.

Storming pools welcome you to sit and wait,

To be pulled from safety to waterfall.

They may call you to seal your own fate,

I beg of you to not answer the call.

I have seen too many who follow death.

Think they own this place and are not a guest.

The pools may look safe to those who not know,

How ultramarine whispers pull you in.

Current may seem stagnant and slow,

They will prove to you how lazy you swim. 

Feel free to leave a comment in the comment section below! Let us have a conversation!

👉FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER @TheElissaPost: HERE

👉LIKE MY FACEBOOK FAN PAGE: HERE

👉FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: HERE

👉FOLLOW BY EMAIL BY PUTTING YOUR EMAIL INTO THE FOLLOW BY EMAIL