Let me tell you about the sun and the moon.
He falls everyday to see her rise,
And craves the sight of her sparkling eyes.
She prays for him to pass by soon
They share a love the stars despise.
Her shimmering glow,
And his glorious heat.
Never has been found a love as sweet.
With each gentle kiss their feelings will grow.
Within the darkness they arrange to meet.
He’ll see her face with each coming night.
Behind her smile is a glint of charm;
Under his protection she’ll endure no harm.
He is the source of her undying light.
Awaiting the day they’ll be arm in arm.
Writing always is going to resonate with me the most,
much more than speaking ever could.
I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when I had that invaluable epiphany,
but I think it was just something I knew my whole life,
and then just one day I finally realized it.
In school, while everyone else always struggled to come up
with the minimum requirement for essays,
I would have to spend hours upon hours compressing all my thoughts
and succumb to the standards of my rubric.
Instead of a chore,
I saw as it as an opportunity- or more like a challenge.
I always thought it was strange of teachers to want to limit my thoughts,
at least that’s how I thought of it when I was in middle school.
Now I understand more of the purpose of putting a limit on words,
for the sake of “quality over quantity”.
However, I always felt the need to over explain and elaborate
for fear that I might not get my point across.
Several times it felt as if my thoughts and emotions that I had
so tightly contained inside my brain for days upon end
seemed to magically transfer from my mind to the tips
of my fingers and pen and then finally to my paper.
I can’t recall the first time I picked up a pencil and started writing to convey my thoughts,
but ever since then,
it was the only way I truly could.
I didn’t ever realize that I was different,
or that something was considered ‘wrong’ with me,
until I first started school.
I was immediately subject to a series
of different tests and analyses trying to
I had had a speech impediment my whole life,
nothing extremely inhibiting or problematic,
but something that set me apart from the other kids.
I was unable to pronounce a number of syllables,
which sometimes made me sound very inarticulate.
I was always very quiet,
and sort of an outcast,
and everyone pondered whether I was shy because of my speech problem,
or whether I had developed a speech problem because I was so shy and
unable to communicate properly.
My school unfortunately connected my disability to special learning needs,
but I soon proved them wrong.
After having to go through a series of tests,
they realized that I was actually very intelligent for my age,
but my speech problem hindered me from always being able to express myself
or be confident enough to share my ideas in class.
No one understood that being quiet,
or “not being able to talk” wasn’t a choice for me,
the thought of putting myself out there and being able to interact and communicate with other kids my age honestly made me cringe.
I guess writing just came most naturally to me- it was just a skill.
Honestly, sometimes I would rather reside in my stories than in the real world.
Whenever I'd complete an assignment for school,
I would smile,
and laugh at the irony of how this unappealing,
cut and dry packet
was the actual representation of all the unpredictable and imaginative workings of my mind.
That’s what writing allowed me to do: it allowed me to take all of the
words and thoughts
that were constantly buzzing around in my head and
let them free.
That is how writing helped me;
it helped me say things that I never could have in person.
Were only friends,
you like to say,
If that gets you through,
day by day.
And I suppose,
That that's okay.
Long as it's me,
To end your day
You work hard,
all day long,
now the two of you,
can't get along.
When you're upset,
and something's wrong,
he never seems to see it.
But I am here,
when you're afraid.
And we reside,
deep in the shade.
I feel like we,
Must have it made,
Because this just feels so perfect.
While nothing hurts,
and nothing's sore,
You've never seemed,
To be more sure.
Let me feel,
heat from your core.
For only you,
Do I adore.
We have our smiles,
We share our times,
Our little crimes,
and nothing's broken.
So I don't mind,
what we leave unspoken.
Any Suggestions for a better title?
Someone said I'm a so so writer and I'm not that good.
The words didn't offend me and I'm working at improving.
Here's the short list of what I'd like to do with and for you.
I embrace words most need to look up and love when you use them.
Sit back and read this poem I wrote and hope you like.
I'd like you to walk beside me enjoying the view from the pier.
I know you have difficulties walking without pain
so we take it slow and stop as much as you required.
I'd like to talk to you for hours using intelligent words.
I'd like to gift you long love poetry written on parchment paper.
I'd like you to write poetry for me using a King's English.
I LOVE it when you use words found in a thesaurus!
I like the way you make poetry writing easy breezy.
I'd like to get to know you better face to face and use our words.
I've heard you speak and I love hearing the sound of your voice.
I would love it if you called me and said you want to hear me breath.
I'd like you to write and sing a song just for me one day.
I'd like to know your favorite perfume and gift it to you.
I'd like you to paint a portrait of me and I'd hang it on my wall.
I'd like to know what you do when you're off net.
I wont follow you around town to discover where you go.
I'd like to know your secrets if you wanted to share them.
I'd like to know your favorite foods and prepare them for you.
I read words and know you like being read to and would like to
read works by your favorite authors to you under a shade tree.
I'd like to build a time machine for you to go back in time
to before you lost trust and faith in all men not to hurt you.
I like your long poems and love we share a love of big and small words.
You could be the bird in the D.H. Lawrence poem called "Self-pity"
I like how you inspire me to keep writing poetry and to get better at it.
Sometimes, when poets write of love,
we speak of body parts,
but the part of you that I love best
is hidden in your heart.
How can I kiss your kindness?
Caress your thoughtfulness?
That's what I adore the most,
beyond your mounded breasts.
The fount of understanding
flowing from your lips
is even more attractive
than your shapely waist and hips.
Your ready sense of humor
is very sexy too!
You see the humor others miss--
I love that about you.
While poets pant of naked skin
and love that's passion-driven,
we share a secret smile because
our love is baked with leaven.
All rights reserved by the author
Although far removed from the great Sahara I by chance met Saharazad in the market place she
Wore white she registered from cute to beautiful excuse the personal reference but this is all
About feelings I wore brown it is another way to be invisible weight is the greatest disconnect
You are truly ignored in school I was known as the class clown at home I was the life of the
Party even when I took computer classes I just reverted back talking out loud having the
Teacher laughing too this time but as I said before as a searcher you can’t be joining everything
In eight years I have been to my family’s home three times and one of those times was because
I got a false report that one of them had died sadness and loneliness is a requirement to see
And pearse the inner world of the soul you truly must be on the outside so let me continue to
Relate this lovely creature I happened upon her smile could cause a minor accident gorgeous it
Was just short of jumping on a carousel but better all the color and lights and music was
Emanating from her loveliness her white attire only increased the pleasure isn’t that what you
See worn a lot when one dances to the Viennese Waltz just showing you what you miss and
Don’t see such gentle beating of the heart from a human fount and then she speaks and the
Music begins brick and asphalt you have never been so blessed then you mix in sky and sun it’s
An experience to die for eyes of wonder you bring down the thunder and without doubt the
Attending mist to the eyes the mind you stand in one place but your back in years gone by she
Was wonderful then now she is dreamy truly the stuff that dreams are made of oh God
Consecrate these dreams to immortal feats and deeds make those that feel so alone they are
Being fooled and harmed by the enemy I have been in your school of instruction for a long time
And I attest these feelings and facts are sound Sarazard is more than imagination but she is the
Root and beauty of true life Thank you Father that she is my friend and I choose to share with
All who will read this if everything feels mundane and worthless you are in a bad place where
Lies Are ruling come and be free I can’t give you her address but I have shown her unmasked
And the realness of the person that she is blessings to her and you
So many words flowing through my head...
How can they translate,
Into a beautiful creation,
Such as a poem.
I write many poems,
When I talk,
The words flow out,
Like a true poet.
Then when they go to paper,
They're clumsy as fuck,
They don't make sense.
They're just like my mind.
I wrote one poem,
That I really wanted to share.
But its so sad,
It would cause people to worry,
Theres no need to worry.
My words are great,
My poetry is fine,
And my mind is destroyed.
Stepping back looking at my life and wondering,
Why have I wasted the past three years blundering,
Being to busy to think,
Like am muting my mind out with a drink.
Seeing that even in my life there is a little bit of
A drunken ass is not who I really am,
Time to start caring about my life and giving a damn,
Studying and reading books an awful lot,
Making me be the friend that most people blot
Except for a certain few,
Reason being we share the same point of view,
Learning the truth of the government and living in Cyber nation,
Able to read each others mind without hesitation,
To all my friends from the past,
Im bottling up them memories,
To the few that I have unexpended,
A helping hand will always be extended,
Knowing I’ll always have ya’ll to stand by,
The reason being we ride together.
IT’s amazing to me
To see how content you can be
Walking through life making a mess
With your decisions in every step
Colliding with others minds, hearts & lives
To the fire that burns bridges
With caution to the wind
You didn't even ask me when or why
I have scars that I can’t hide
Because you don’t care enough to see the person I am
What I struggle with or what is hidden
As far as we got was only far enough
To find out you’re boring in bed
What only matters to you is what you can be given
As you share your life story everyone listens
And I’m the only one not dumb enough to know
How well you put on a show
You believe we are all oh so privileged
So oh, what an accomplishment!
You never even asked if it was what I wanted
So to the girl you’re dating now I hope she knows you better
And gets what she is expecting
Because if she knows you like she better
She knows how much she will be getting from you
And how very much so she will be disappointed.
marvel at the complex-pattern
painting such a span of swirls
light-panels less than shimmer
in the afternoon shadows on the wooden kitchen-table
biggest fear - your leaving
beautiful summer-days lost in your eyes
oblivion dances like a wily-wench at hypnotising fire-licks
from our languid-bed, I'd lazy-feed you lox-on-crackers
and everything you liked
heaven never had it so good
woke up and you weren't there
where'd you go to?
no letter, no call.. for days
to overcome this fear
I brought in a b-i-g-g-e-r one
that used to drive me to serious-pitfalls in the past
off to the exotic pet-shop, my toes marched me
and I got one - very toxic thing on legs
without a natural terrarium
once home, I set it free
I set free.... my biggest fear
to blot out your absence
to overcome your presence
to forget you
it crawled around and made a home
while I hardly breathed nor slept
and moved about on ginger-steps
I kept feeling strands of your hair
in my sleep
on my cheek
inside my cry
and woke to moonlight bathed in sweat
I did not wash your pillow, after weeks now
I bury my face in olfactory-memory lingering
and pine for you, but I see your missing set of keys and..
/ scratch .. scratch /
I hear a sudden scurrying
heartbeat jumps out cage
eyeballs to the parquet-floor
I'm getting used to this new pet
and she doesn't mind my breathing
oh, I swear she's a brain-scanner
when she looks at me that way
like she can read me.. through and through
I dare not pet, I dare not touch... ohhhh no!
I leave her the daily-bowl of delicious, fresh worms
to find it empty in the evening
I guess, thanks for freedom.. of sorts
one day, I left the window open
as I jotted down some poignant thoughts
at my antique-escritoire
espied her legs upon the solar-sill
thought she'd be running... a leaver, too
she was sunning all her legs awhile
the season's changing.. leaves are falling
crackle of wind in the air
now, I'm making me some coffee in my silver whistle-pot
hot, solo beverage to calm my settling-mind
when.. ping-ping.. comes a text
lo and behold....
it is you...
delirium / delirium /
(I'm on cloud-nine... you're coming home tonight..
you love me so much, you say..
made a mistake..
you've got something big to share..
I've taken time to prepare a special-meal.. candles and all your faves
but must pop out quick to get some lox...)
I'm back now, got the stuff now
key in lock
but the door.. jammed by a weight.. of sorts
can't seem to push the darn-door open...
shoving hard, I see........
fear compounded by a minus
S T - 4 dec 13
days fly by
on wing of trust