somewhere    2000 -    
What does it take to become a poet? I just write to express.
What does it take to become a poet? I just write to express.

In the face of despair, I'll surely hope.
In the face of death, I shall try to cope.
As I was wallowing in misery,
I just found the reason to be merry.

Borderlines of my care and apathy,
Tell me, which one should I even believe?
As I try to cope with my depression,
I just found myself a reason to smile.

The juxtaposition of my laughter,
The irony of my own emptiness,
The hollowness of my own entirety,
It's probably the opposite, really.
This reaction formation of myself,
Clad in some ominous oxymoron.

A sonnnet of my subsequent reaction formations that makes me question myself even more.

As I tread this path with prickles & thorns,
With fluttering butterflies in my gut,
With blurry visions of vague horizons,
Failed to notice, I was stuck in a rut.

I reached a small pond that mirrored my face,
I see roses, patches of red petals.
I was enamored with it as I trace,
The roses that formed a maze to my pulse.

It was blood, I was dying painlessly.
These thorns were shrapnel from a hand grenade,
The feeling of butterflies was numbness,
My blurred vision was from a ruptured vein,
I fell flat, dying, laying on the grass,
Please, my love, end me with a coup de grâce.

A sonnet of the final moments of dying painlessly, or slowly realizing reality.
#love   #war   #death   #painless  

everything's blacked out,
reigning over me are dark clouds,
incapacitated in awe and standing still,
nimbus clouds rain on me as I sleep sound.

lackadaisically waking up,
yawning as I walk outside, finding,
labyrinths of an ideal reality,
enamored with self-confusion and insanity.

roaming around aimlessly,
obfuscated in perpetuity,
maddened and under the weather,
adamantly rejoicing in the sorrowful rain.

Sleepy acrostic feelings of unnerving confusion amidst a rainy evening. The sky's clear as day yet it feels as if it's raining in midnight,

An addiction to the color named red,
An affinity to feelings of dread,
Like waterfalls and raindrops, I feel drenched,
Clothed in a gown of crimson red is death.

Hemophilia causes excessive blood loss,
Just by being touched, you bloom like a rose!
Like roses with thorns that bleeds it's color.
To me who's bleeding out, "You're just a pose!"
I scream out with anguish, a quiet pause.
I lay in a pool of bloody dolor...

To me, you're lips are just like spikes and thorns,
With flowery words born from blooming roses,
As if an explosion of gray matter,
Were your poems that made me bleed all-out.

A sonnet of bleeding for various reasons. Dedicated to "someone", I poured out what circles around me, as if my own blood.

What is it that makes me bleed profusely?
I search for this plank in my eye... sawdust?
Like the grains of sand and gravel, subtly,
We then subconsciously blink to adjust,
Avoiding an unfortunate sully.

Blood had spewed everywhere as if a splash!
Blinded and beneath waves of sultriness,
Boiling and cauterizing subtle wounds,
This juxtaposition of subtle pain.

Pain has always been subtle, always has.
Like the way your glasses broke into shards.
I have always known these fragments of glass.
Never blood, sand, gravel, sawdust, a plank.
But your subtle beautiful concussion.

A sonnet of how subtle one can be as they creep around your head and your heart. Enamored by their pain, you seek to comfort them with you yourself dying in agony.

Oopy Doopy, Super Sloopy.
Loopy snoopy, pants apoopy.
Lippy hippy, slippy dippy.
Nasty-nicey, normally snippy.

Loosey goosey, chocolate moussey.
Usually ass goofy as Gary Busey.
Hinky-stinky presidential pinko.
Winky-blinky, dangerously stinko.

Hippity hoppy, flippy-floppy
Get a mop, it never stops.
Laughy gaffe-y, riffy-raffy
Face as gross as rotten taffy.

Whammy-bammy, scary scammy
Mammy-jamming Uncle Sammy.
Lumpy-dumpy, far from humpy
Trumped up future jumpy bumpy.

Glossy boss, a frightful loss
Ungathered moss at twice the cost.
Serious gap while the country naps
Crappy sap giving us a slap.

Frightening nooses tightening,
Rights denied like summer lightning.
Ignoring Popes and Snopes
Hopeless dopes put us on the ropes.

Immune to our cries, elected guys
Make horrifying decisions most unwise.
Like black magic before all our eyes
We’re leaderless as freedom dies.

Searching for words to fill this gaping void,
Try as I may, It's just all too absurd!
As I try to rhyme and think of a word,
I just can't ignore getting played and toyed!

These feelings of bliss and joyous despair,
I just can't get you out of my head's care!
I stare at the screen, sitting on my chair.
With thoughts as blurred as my moistened glasses,
With you in my head, I just wear and tear!
As I walk back and forth in disrepair.
I sit back down, I wouldn't even dare...

This writer's block I often experienced,
Is as maddening as your invasion,
Of my madcap heart's reckless imprudence!

A sonnet of being enamored (with someone) as you experience a frustrating writer's block
 
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