On Oblivions Doorstep    1974 -    
I am that which was once many stars but faded reborn under a different name Darkness is my tether enjoy my many shades.. Once the hour glass empties then my ink fades to nothing, hope you read It in time.


I love writing anything that pops in my mad mind I do this for me not for others, I hope people enjoy what I write (respect is earnt not given) I am also a mad marvel dc fan and to top off the Geek trekie :) All rights reserved © 2013 till I`m dead..
NEVER LET THE INK RUN DRY....
I am that which was once many stars but faded reborn under a different name Darkness is my tether enjoy my many shades.. Once the hour glass empties then my ink fades to nothing, hope you read It in time.


I love writing anything that pops in my mad mind I do this for me not for others, I hope people enjoy what I write (respect is earnt not given) I am also a mad marvel dc fan and to top off the Geek trekie :) All rights reserved © 2013 till I`m dead..
NEVER LET THE INK RUN DRY....
Poetic T
Poetic T
9 hours ago

One is a poet of verse,
                    no longer entangled
         by past misconceptions.

I'm a man of fluidic verse,
                            I weave the mentions
          of my reflections on reflective verse.

Poetic T
Poetic T
9 hours ago

Hairy volumes of what was needed
to velcro on the surface of my soft skin,
gentle quiffs of what massaged the
                                stress of my moments away.

A cushion of relaxation never fallen
upon the floor. I weave my dreams upon the
                                          softness of there clouds.

Sweet dreams upon the flurry of hair
that slumbers me to dreams
                                                of hairy kisses

Poetic T
Poetic T
1 day ago

I've never  met you even though eyes have never collected
on the pools of reflection,

we are wondering echoes
                       never to witness the shodows of another.

But when I look in to a pool.
                      All I ever see is the impression of you.

Poetic T
Poetic T
1 day ago

Eyes weave tears on paper of blank verses,
                     but speak in silent whispers.

A word is a reflection given volume,
                     that echoes through every motion,

But when they fall all are silent,
                       Vacant images of children static..

Poetic T
Poetic T
1 day ago

The sting of my verses will sew the woeful indiscretions
of what got curb bounced on the beat or the worst vocals
that you rhymed incoherently that were
                                                     collected in lyrical a doggy bag.

I will not fall on a sword of those that ignore my verse
that fall on the page, do you know why I write in diverse
motions? Do you know my demons the voices that verse
inwards on the white of my skull? my reflections reverse.

The sting of my verses will sew the woeful indiscretions
of what got curb bounced on the beat or the worst vocals
that you rhymed incoherently that were
                                                     collected in lyrical a doggy bag.

But excrement can be rhymed in free verse, I'm doing this
for me but I don't linger to impress! I word for my emotions
are a hurricane and I'm the eye calm but I swim in the abyss.

The sting of my verses will sew the woeful indiscretions
of what got curb bounced on the beat or the worst vocals
that you rhymed incoherently that were
                                                     collected in lyrical a doggy bag.

I'm vocalized to those that don't sniff the arses of poor vocals
linger on excellence not the excrement of poorly woven yokels.
Lyrics of verse are meant to move not stagnate silently,
they are meant to be lyrics that move the emotion violently.

"Weave the best version of you, not the diluted verse,

#truth   #words   #crap   #repetative   #woven   #diluted  
Poetic T
Poetic T
1 day ago

I collected the currency of my failings inserting voices  
into the deluge of my figurine dancing on the precipice
of my tainted visage.

But I was short of necessitates, fraudulent reimbursement
was reincorporated, and I was woven unwept as the distresses
of what I had done wove upon my silhouette.

Blank verses were woven on my pools of sky blue, now vacant
only snow flakes of nothingness fell on my perception.
I was not as before I was whole but concussed in creation.

Interwoven, incomplete essences of me. I wasn't that which
was reflected outwards, all that was now interlaced in an
abomination of false reflections and I paid the ultimate price.

#false   #fail   #payment   #woven  
Poetic T
Poetic T
1 day ago

Barred behind bars of moisture that versed
the sullen motions of what was flowing like
a musing of tides.

Evaporating from the verses luminous pages
were painting the heavens with droplets of
conciseness that barred radiant stanzas.

For when heavy dew does descend it will
collect on the page, cresting on the shores.
Again wiping the reflection clean for a new verse.

 
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