You are beautiful.
The words whispered without doubt.
Each syllable slipping through smoothly,
as if somehow shaping this statement supports
and supplements its substantiality.
A falling phrase fathering the feeling,
that every fleeting fear has found itself futile and foreign.
Until you find yourself yielding and yearning to yip,
as you did in the yesteryears of youth.
But these words are not spoken with enough clarity.
These words are taken as a compliment meant to leave you blushing.
They are understood as a revelation encountered after you are found to be the victor
of a superficial comparison with those around you.
As if each attractive feature earns you additional points,
with a judge that can be bought with each glance and smile and touch.
As if each insecurity that you feel,
or each person that you think is more alluring,
can somehow subtract from the meaning of the statement.
Your beauty cannot be compared.
The beauty that you contain cannot be explained
to joking friends when they ask where you fit in on a 10-scale.
You cannot put numbers next to the hope and insight that you so freely give.
There are not enough hedons to quantify it.
You are beautiful.
I will repeat it until you think it echoes off the walls surrounding you.
Until every time you look into a mirror you believe you have x-ray vision,
and you can see the warmth of your soul,
with the clarity of vision that you have granted me.
Until you realize that every smile that appeared,
every laugh that escaped,
and every brief happy dance that was ever done in your presence
was caused by the beauty that rests within you.
Wielding the talent to brighten a day with a single smile,
the power to make all of the worries and doubts in a person's mind disappear
with a single thoughtful statement,
a capacity for selflessness that allows no cynic to doubt your motives,
and the ability to make others realize their own beauty
just by interacting with you.
The world is more beautiful because you are a part of it.
They victimize the victims and
they glorify the killers
yet don't realize what symptoms
has the youngsters pulling triggers
Little girls becoming strippers
just so they can make some figures
guess they missed the bigger picture
My knowledge helps reconsider
A country man at heart
with street smarts like city slickers
I'll leave you looking ignorant
you think that I'm a nigger
The last man to kill his own people
name was Hitler.
I'm more mysterious then that
compare to Jack the Ripper.
the best words for last are said to be
the same ones that you knowen own
in your head sorry if i idndt know
that there was one more to go i'm
sorry that i didnt say that there was
one more to go that there was one
more to go to that there was one more
to go to that there was one more to
go to that there was one more to go
that that ere was one more to go to
go to the wood of the end of the
street you know the ones you know
the woods the words you know the
one you know the ones you are the
sun you are the son you are the dark
obligation to make contact with
the seeds and make contatact with
the lost ones homophonic maniac
i need you to see this otheriwse its
for none but all not just one you see
you see the oat meal in the trees
is like bubble gum to the bees you
see, you see, any old word would
do self promotion aside losing my
life am i learning something horribl
e about losing it all am i learning
something aout the dreop of one tw
o or three strokes losing it making c
ards sound much etter than they re
ally are taking a hike on closed ey
e mountain face and the case for th
e best of the best the name with t
he rest whyy dont know need to k
now just need to know just need
to konw the cool green specie
s of snake count have been you al
l the words all the worlds count ha
ve been you no they count have be
en you no they count have been you yo
u want to know the way to the doctor it
will cast you american dollars
Poem a day, day 11
Late for bed once again.
Last minute scrawl with my pen.
What'll come out is anyone's guess
To make it half decent I'll try my best.
The other half might be indecent
You never know your luck.
On thing I do sense
My rhymes will run amok.
Rhyming couplets here and there
But you can bet they're not everywhere.
The rhyme shall be as the mood takes me
And self editing is not what I foresee.
So another poem not really about anything.
Just me rambling about the first thing.
That happens to come to mind as I sit down to write
My poem a day, so late at night.
So less for me this time
And more for my reader
And learning to create
Whatever my weather.
I love poetry
For there is nothing more natural and free
Than my lines
The words,the images..
Smoothly make their way from my brain
( throught my heart)
To my fingers
And I write them just as they come.
I love poetry
For one word sentences are still full of meaning
No one will ask about the verb the subject the object and the adverb
They are all there, the meaning is all there
Of course the readers might wonder about the story behind it
Who caused it? How does it taste like? How old is it.. ?
And I, the poet ..could be generous enough
To quinch their curiosity
But a true poet would answer questions
Which haven't been asked
Questions like : Where? ( in the library)
Doing what? ( forgetting)
In what? ( books)
And my poem would be something like:
In the library
Forgetting my heartache
I love poetry
For I can give my poem
A title as irrelevant as : Angels can be terrible
And nobody will complain
( though it's not that irrelevant)
There is something inside of each of our souls:
This desire for the things that will destroy us.
We crave to behave in ways that leave scars.
Battered and mauled, we are in love with the sickness.
Why do we find it so inviting that we can’t want to turn away from it?
Because to turn away would be to deny ourselves of who we are.
We were born this way: rotting flesh and souls in decay.
We will not admit to the shame of it because we cannot let our pride be wounded.
We do not accept it as fault.
We embrace it because we can’t change.
But the evidence roars in the background as you say that you are deemed worthy.
The lie you just told broke a heart.
The substances from yesterday still affect your loved ones today.
We are not meant to hurt; we were not made to hurt each other.
I believe in love.
I believe in forces.
I believe that we all were destined for good things.
They say I am too old for imaginary friends,
But this love is not imaginary.
I can see this love.
I can see it in smiling eyes.
I can see it in random acts of kindness that shouldn’t be so random.
Brothers and sisters, we were made for more than this world has to offer.
I saw love; I felt love.
Love followed me.
Love pulled me out of my own head, my own mess, my own love for my own sin.
Love knocked the wind out of me.
Love crushed my old heart.
Love let it shatter to take what was inside and make it something better.
Love loved me, when I just didn’t care.
Love waited for me.
Love was always there.
Love always knew that I would find my way.
Love had its hand on me on even my darkest day.
Love looked at me with heartbreak it its eyes.
When my back was turned, love never passed by.
Love never turned and left;
Love never gave in.
Love hurt because I wouldn’t let love in.
But love stayed and love waited.
Love waited on me.
Love led me and taught me how it feels to be free.
Love saw in my heart that I was a wreck.
Love broke down my bones to build them back.
And this time, they are stronger.
Love let me feel pain, though it pained love too,
Because in the end love always knew
That I would find love from my shackled, broken place
Where I would accept love and accept grace.
When my heart was torn open, bleeding out on the ground…
When my soul was crying out for something unknown
To fill the gaping void in my life left by the people
Who couldn’t love like love itself…
When my fears consumed me and I thought I might explode…
When I needed someone to hear me- just hear me-
So that I would not feel so alone…
When the stars taunted me and told me I was small
And that my life would never amount to anything at all…
When I was left in the dust and so unfairly mistreated
By people who were just as lost as me…
When the screaming of voices that were broken from
The love that they never received would ring in my ears…
I was lost.
When there were times that life meant nothing to me
Because I had no reason to live it…
Love found me, and love rescued me.
And love waited to make sure I understood
That love was not going anywhere.
And love wanted me to know love and that I could show love to
People who never really knew the love that found me.
They say that I’m too old for imaginary friends,
But love is not so imaginary.
Love is felt, and love wants you back.
And love never leaves you wanting.
The love on this earth is tainted and broken,
And people hurt each other because they were hurt too.
When people love, they try and give it their best go,
But they are weary and reluctant.
My heart longs for a love deep enough that no one is left dry.
A thirst that is quenched.
No more hunger pangs.
Because love showed itself to me.
So let me love even though I am weak.
Let me try and have that love show through me.
I want to shine so bright the sun would feel inadequate,
Because the brightness of love burns like a thousand earthly suns.
Because the love that found me is the love that beats in my heart,
Traveling deeper than my bones, so I can feel it in my core
When my heart pounds on.
This love courses through my veins, planting a hope in me
That I didn’t even know could be possible.
Love was not found in the pages of a book;
Love was found in the message of a force that created love’s meaning.
The pages of the book hold the words of the creator of the love
That found me but love is in their meaning.
Love is in the force behind the words that kiss the pages
Of the book that is mocked and made foolish.
The words twisting, distorted and wrong,
So far from the place where they started.
So far now that they are only words,
And the meaning they held is lost.
Love itself was mocked and made foolish
By the ones love came to rescue.
I will not mock love.
I will be proud to stand for a love that will stand for me,
When I am no better than any other imperfect human being.
No one laughs at love when love is shown in a smile,
Or a word of comfort to someone who is in need.
But they laugh at love when love is shown in the meaning
Behind the words in a book that only acts to convey the love
That could save them.
They say that I am too old for imaginary friends,
And they mock the love that lifted me above the ashes
And led me through the pain of life.
When my life was wading in open waters
With sharks circling beneath me
And feeling the fatigue set in.
Pretty soon, I would have been too tired
To even try at all.
But love reached out into my heart
And gave me the strength to keep wading,
With the knowledge that the sharks can’t touch me.
And one day I will be out of the water and onto dry land
Where I will never have to swim again.
They say I am too old for imaginary friends,
But love is the realest thing I know and
Love saved me.
is this what it feels like
to love someone so much
your heart becomes so heavy
and your mind, so hazy
to have your emotions so confused
so tangled up in a mess
you’d wish you could comb through
all the distress
is this what love feels like
to have your world revolve around
one person, one special someone
does it make me mentally sound?
you make me so angry
my body sparks with rage
please help me,
lock me up in a cage
you make so sad
your words, they pierce
the soft layer on my heart
squeezing out drops of tears
but you also make me feel
nice and warm
and no matter what this is
i know i’ll always be wrong
Lord, I have so many faults.
Through pain or gain, my wounds they salt.
I know that they’re down there below even when I don’t know
Because my pride and ego overshadow.
Why is it I see myself in such a light,
But then curse myself in the darkness of night.
How can I be so in love with me?
But still everyday want to kill away
Myself from my own sight?
Lord, who am I?
I realize I carry around my pain inside me
And maybe I hope my ego will hide me-
The broken pieces of me that I see
Well, I hope your spirit can guide me.
Lord, I’m feeling a little lost.
But I said I’d follow you, and I knew the cost
So then why am I here harboring this fear
That I spent so much time convincing myself was no longer there?
Well God I know that I do have something to show
For this broke down life you once made whole
You know, I don’t expect to heal overnight
And even when I hope it would, it’s alright.
Because I know, down to my soul,
That this one thing I got right.
So, God, please help me
Not passively sit by,
But actively take what you’ve laid out for me-
Whatever that may be
And whatever that may take-
No, not for mine,
But for your sake.
God, I am yours.
And even when it feels like I’m lost at sea,
I know you’re looking out for me,
And you hand me the oars.
And by the grace of the Lord,
I’ll make it to your shores.
I saw you for the first time last night.
Instead of just looking, I saw you.
I saw your body acting as a shield against the cold winds.
I saw your thick skin fierce enough to withstand them.
I saw you hold my gaze then slowly look away.
I saw the scars on your arms and caught a glimpse of your pain.
I wanted to stay a little longer and pick your mind.
I would’ve stayed a while longer to just pass the time.
I want to know about your father and your longest nights.
I want to know the reasons why you still put up a fight.
I saw your beautiful eyes keeping everything inside.
I saw your lips holding back the thoughts that I may never find.
I heard the words that you spoke as if they didn’t hurt.
I read your thoughts on the pages of your old notebook.
I didn’t really know the right words for me to say
that upon leaving my breath might make things okay.
I kind of wanted you to know the way that I felt
and the weight on my heart for the hand you’ve been dealt.
I wanted to know how to make you understand
that I wanted nothing more than to reach out my hand
and somehow pull you out of the deepening quicksand.
So I hope you know that I’m only a person,
but to think there’s a soul with pain so much worse than
anything that I’ve probably ever known,
makes me want you to never have to ever feel alone.
I might never know just exactly how you feel,
but I want to be there when you decide you’re ready to reveal
all the pain you keep harbored deep inside your mind.
I know there’s a fortress you’ve built over time,
with the walls so high that they never fall out of line.
But I hope you know at least now you’ve made a friend,
and I want to stay to help you as much as I can.
I don’t know you that well but you did something to my heart.
I thought you should know that I think I saw you for who you are.
I’ve passed you in the halls and maybe looked for a while,
but I never saw you for anything beyond your outward smile.
and I’m not one to care about what other people say,
so if you think you want a friend, then my decision is to stay.
I want to know all about your mixed up mind.
I want to know how you felt leaving your friends behind.
I want you to know I don’t think you have to be strong,
and if you need some help down the road, then I’ll come along.
I don’t know why or how, but you touched something inside me.
So, if you ever need anything, then you know where to find me.
Cruising down the highway never felt so high-
with the music playing loud and the stars in our eyes,
Breathing in that smoky air never felt so free.
So we drank down that freedom and turned up the beat,
and we let it cloud our judgement until we ran it off the street.
Face to the windshield, windshield to a tree-
Just one sheet of glass screaming your mortality.
But we thought it’d last forever, running on a adrenalin-
Running from our problems, from anything genuine.
“I don’t need to think about death, I’m only a kid,”
Well if a kid can drive then they’re responsible for that last skid,
out of control and into the dark, to the point of no return with no option to restart.
At that point your intentions or excuses don’t matter.
So, take your potential and use it for the better.
The hands that you use to pass that bottle
are the same that can be used to completely remodel
A life. A heart. A soul. A home.
So what you do with those hands is completely your own,
and if they drink and drive and kill your best friend,
it’s your fault alone.
You may be young and wild, but you’ll never be free
as long as you let yourself be a slave to humanity.
So when the world says go, but a voice says stop,
don’t quiet it thinking you can turn back the clock
when years pass by and regrets are weighing on your mind,
and you sit there wishing you thought better to utilize your time.
Laying on your deathbed thinking of the glory days,
thinking how short the longest seems before it all fades.
Will you think of death then- when it looks you in the face?
Does it have to wait to shake you when you’re in that place?
If life and death is the big picture, then why do we shut it off?
It’s like we choose to be ignorant because we don’t want to know the cost.
But pushing it away doesn’t make death less real,
it only makes you less ready when the truth is revealed.