brushing long hair
mirror to each other
Raw then.
Poem speaks to that.
Now ready to receive
eager to share
I speak my ode to her
present in each others eyes
all streaming tears of relief
Fuck the deep shit.
Fuck the sweet shit.
I want to write a poem with legs
and confidence enough
to stand on its own.
Life is more than just time
It's more of poem with less of a rhyme.
Sky blue, trees brown, grass green....
You know what I mean?
Maybe it's not coming out right...trying to explain the meaning of life
But like.....who's knows what it is?
I do.
And the answer is:
This space is just for experience.
30 to 90 years of just feeling it.
Doing the things that you need to do,
and giving things back instead of just stealing shit.
You walk through the world just learning.
I sit in class just yearning,
"I need to be out there and I want to see."
My thought wheels keep turning.
And I try to be more than just one...
Because we weren't put on this world just for fun.
No.
We are here for a reason.
But even that's hard to believe because we're suffering treason.
High.
Like the kids these days.
Playing with fire
"You snaze, you laze."
But I digress.
Now, what was I talking about? Oh yeah,
PRESS!
Printing these stories about celebrities who quite frankly,
Just don't mean shit to me.
I mean, shouldn't we be focusing on something else for a change?
How about how the earth's climate has changed?
There are animals who are dying,
Their kind is shrinking.
Oh, and the water level is rising...
And we are still sinking.
Looks like no one is gonna build us a boat
So we all might have to hold onto our breath
And float on...like that band said.
"To be or not to be." Like that man said.
Right? Because our generation is so "stupid"
We have nothing to show because we don't do shit?
Well you just wait and see.
And for that you'll need patience and tenacity.
How about another subject? cause we have plenty of time.
A few years i'd say, but no...that won't fit in the rhyme.
So how about the mind?
It's a brilliant thing.
It controls us all like an ancient king.
Like for example, King Tut.
And i'd go on but you know what?
I just remembered I was talking about life, am I right?
It's already dark out, and as it turns out, I don't have all night.
So i'm going to leave you with this little piece.
And out of everything this is what i'd like you to take with you, please,
People don't get through it easy
L-I-F-E.
But we are strong.
I mean, we're on top...right where we belong.
So really just...do what you gotta do.
I know the advice may be disappointing
But it's all that you'll need, dude.
As long as you do the things that you need
You have nothing to worry about and you will succeed.
So i guess life really ain't much
We talk and maybe think of it as such
But
You know what, forget all the rhymes.
Maybe life really is just...nothing but time.
I've noticed
There are a few types of music
Music when you're happy
Music when you're sad
Music that makes you think of someone
And music that doesn't meany anything to you
Until certain things happen In your life
And it just moves you, speaks to you
Heals you
Pushes you through the through
Glides you through the smooth
Music that I listen to when I'm only thinking of you
But I never tried poetry
And now I realize
Poetry can be used
To explain love in great detail
An image in a readers mind
But love can mean many things
To the writer
So the reader has to relate to it in someway
Dig deep within the lines
It's like finding a diamond in the rubble
But when they do eyes are wide
See a poem has to flow
Tell a story in someway
Poems that only make sense to me
Anger
Passion
And Rage
My mind is thinking of new
Lines every single day
See I never wrote poetry before I came here
I see it as a land of peoples
Story's and Dreams
A land of people who
Get heat-broken and Shattered
And write about the things they've seen
But poetry for me
Are my Demons scrawled
Across these pages
And my story's to tell
This place is where I drown them
They lay there in that thing
The thing I used to call the Wishing Well
If they're here, they're not in my mind
Emotion in my lines
But the reader has to Look, Imagine and Relate
But when they do, their eyes wide
Now I know this
Poem may not be the best
And It's not meant to be
Because this is a poem that will only make sense to me
Just another Demon
I have thousands and this is just one less
I didn't mention the Angels
Because they're quiet
They only come when I rest
I think a lot
But I know they're always silent
During the Test
She hides at times
Leaving no words
to rhyme
My muse is seductive
in her charms
Planting only tiny seeds
That blow on the winds
of
my mind
A word seeps inside
a colorful breeze
then dies
As
my muse flutters by
leaving my mind dry
Silently planting words
by the wayside
Hopefully to grow
Sprouting to a poem
Coloring my mind as shadows
drift by
My muse seems to live among
the shadows
That so plague my mind
Where she playfully laughs
inside the tears
of
my mind.
By Weeping willow
(c)2013
Poem to a Friend
Dear Friend,
I'm lost. No I’m not, but I’m clueless and facing huge decisions. My heart is in one direction by common sense tells me another. Does money outweigh artistic freedom? What defines happiness? Where am I going? Do I need to decide now?
I'm not looking for guidance, merely an ear. Life is staring at me. I want to ask for help but I know I'm a hell of a lot better than that. I know I'm stronger than that.
But I like to think back and reflect, it's cool man, thinking of my childhood. When I was younger it didn't matter. None of that shit mattered and that made life so easy. A job meant dressing up as a fireman and laughing- not a 9-5. What is a 9-5? Am I ready?
Time will tell.
I'm going away soon. Life matters. Life is hard.
I'm not depressed. I'm not dying. I have just been hit in the face by reality.
The best part is, I'm man enough to have a strong right hook to throw back.
Look out world, look out strangers, look out mystery, I'm here; and I'm excited.
Yours Truly.
You’ll give me a look
And I’ll give you a word
You’ll give me a question
And I’ll tell you a story
You’ll give me time
And I’ll give you ghosts
We’ll draw each other blueprints
Mapping out every escape route
You deal in ideas and
I deal in letters
In unfulfilled promises, stolen art
What could have beens and prose
At first my words are beautiful
So you’ll give me a heart
In return, I’ll give you a poem about a heart
You’ll give me affection
I’ll take your kisses and your smiles
I’ll take your mornings and your cigarettes and your compliments
And I’ll love you so much
That I’ll write you into my story
I’ll give you your space
I’ll give you my ears, my blind eye
If you want to bury your head, baby I’ll be your sand
After all, we were both just looking for a safe place to land
You’ll give me your heart
Over and over and over again
But I’ll always want more
I’ll always want you to understand
That the thing you love is just a piece
That I am a thousand times the things you think I think I can be
That I love everything a little
But will never settle
On any one path
I want to follow you everywhere
Just to prove to you that I can be everywhere
Do everything
And you’ll get tired of that
I want to be everything you’re not
Just to prove that I still exist outside of us
You’ll get sick of trying so hard to figure me out
Just when you’re ready to leave I’ll decide to show you everything
Things will be good again for a few days
But then we’ll start saying sorry again
We’ll give and give and give
But every gift will be a size to small
The wrong color
So close to right that we’ll walk around with blistered feet and smiles too tight
Loving each other in clashing colors
It won’t be long before we start to miss each other whenever we’re near each other
It won’t be long before it hurts more than we’ve decided it’s worth, but still
I’ll probably always miss you a little
I'm on fire my love
every inch of me burns
with the vodka mix of emotions filling me
And blurring me
The sky is on fire my love
it's falling down on me
are you watching this
or am I the only one that can see it
I know it's falling
but I guess thats just me
My bed is on fire
while I write this poem
my tears would sizzle on to my grey quilt
if I had tears left to cry
My hair is on fire
the natural red of it has enhanced itself
it's unearthly and magical and beautiful
and I appreciate this singular beauty
while blood pools round me
and soaks my bed
my blood is on fire love
and I set it free
The Weekend
(The Weeknd found poem)
It's gonna be one of those nights
I'm bout to give it up like I've been holding back all night
It's really hard for me to speak right now
So I don't know what to expect from you tonight.
And I'm not tryna talk, and I'm not tryna walk
I wanna lose myself between your legs
I'm tryna kiss your neck without a word
Say it in my ear so I can hear what you're saying to me.
I promise you'll have nothing to say
You remind me of a feeling that I used to have
I wanna make your body shake
I'm tryna make you numb without a word.
15 Days & Counting
To pass the time
that I have to wait
I read street signs
and count the miles
between the states.
I hope when you arrive
I'm enough for you
I hope you still feel alive
I know that I can make
these hopes come true.
So now it's only fifteen days
which is still a lot and it's still
about two months late
but I can handle the hesitation
because I have the power and will.
When you come to me for the first
time on June 26th, I promise
to kiss you until my lips hurt
and I promise that everything I said
in this poem is completely honest.
I love you with all my heart
Angelface, you've made it all worth it
I hate the times apart
we had to spend, but that time
wasn't enough to make me quit.
Here we are, four months down the line
after the first official moment we met
(disregard the first not-so-happy time)
I was happy that day, it was the best
but, with you home, the best hasn't came yet.
-qtsp- 6/11
