in the dim light
her smile is implied
but its warmth is genuine and clear
a talented soul is never marred by the worlds lack of vision
i think if i could sum it all up
all the hopes all the dreams
all the things iv fought so hard to build
thouse wonderful things as a child i dreamt of
all the magical things that i felt were waiting for me as a young man
i would not be bending the phrase
to say she is perfection
in dreadlocks and patchouli
for thouse who have never had the privilege
real hippie chicks are
all the beauties of summers day
and all joys loving warmth of summers eve
she is wonderful
i love you woman
"Do you love me?" she asked.
It was a question I had worn on my lips for years;
Threads weaved in and out of my soul,
In your killing hesitation
I knew the answer.
You pulled the thread,
As tiny strings fell down,
Scattering on the floor.
Somehow I always knew
No one could ever love me.
I loved that damn boy as a friend
And as a lover.
But he never bothered to love me;
His heart beats
Please don't pretend
That everything is okay.
Do not grab my arm
Or try to hug me;
Do not even bother to look my way.
I know every damn song
That boy ever hummed
And every lyric
Remaining on his lips;
The closer I got
To reading to the lyrics
The further he stepped away.
Farther and farther
My not-so lover,
My not-so friend;
Please do not leave me
My heart beats
For your innocent love.
Please look at me one more time
And fake the love,
Please whisper the soft lyrics
Into my ear.
Good bye my not-so lover
Good bye my not-so friend
I blew you a kiss
With the last breath I took.
I saw you the first time at my minimum wage job.
Vibrant and curly.
Every moment started slowing down
and as I counted the minutes you faded away.
With a big beautiful smile of course.
But no longer there.
Then after you left my sight
another image persisted.
One of you walking back into my store.
But this image was long out of reach.
The second time I saw you I forgot to get your number.
I consider myself a fool for this,
but you were still standing
and looking at me.
Absolutely straight into my eyes.
I could hardly make your sandwich.
The eyes of my throbbing soul.
Without the hustly bustle of my own mentality,
I would have taken you to Mars right then and there.
With all your curly hair.
And all your fucking smiles.
My earnings for the biweekly pay
couldnt surmount the glory
that is your absolute stunningness.
Crystals are rushing the pathways of you, gleaming.
They are resting on the sound of a wave dreaming
alive all of the irresistible magnetism's that live here.
All the pieces of you that chime my bells of soul places;
You ring me true.
There's something about the complement that comes with you.
In a hot place of purity, we could become
the warmth of this desire, long numbed.
Vaporizing the cold from our flesh.
Programming dissipates within the crystal daze.
Is wrong of me to want a wiser way ?
[ Than that of the dullness of those in my range. ]
I love that I can always find you,
a few words over hanging on the same page.
I as the Princess, and you as the Sage.
I wish I could live in the daze forever.
A space where blasphemy does not reckon itself.
I wish it didn't matter whether,
your walk has been long or short, here in this passing life.
But I am blessed to have over lapped your time, so i sigh.
And wish upon another sunny time, with you.
On the corner of 8th and Fleet
A man plays a drum with a funky beat
He uses two thigh bones as sticks in his hands
And aspires to play in the coolest bands.
He beats on a drum made of flesh and bone
And boy, let me tell you, I swear it moans
It cries out to other goblins and ghouls
And pleases the zombies leaving their schools.
This man is a mummy, no pun intended
Through all of his bindings he smiles so splendid
And plays until morning without any sleep
And he never seems to miss a beat.
The coolings of music and things such as that
Then out of the blue walked a single vampire
“You, my good pharaoh, are up for hire.”
He picked up his drum and his sticks and his hope
And followed the man to a bar called The Rope
And walked into chaos and fire and soul
Except for the dull and dumb-witted trolls
“Get on that stage and give us a beat
On top of all this, I'll give you a treat.
Instead of this run down and dirty old drum
Sit down to MY drum set and have some fun!”
The mummy was shocked and slightly unrest
But he promised and hoped that he'd do his best
He got on the stage and the lights came down
And he thought, with his talent, he'd go to town.
All he could see was his certain doom
The crowd was mad, a troll threw a bottle
The mummy high-tailed it out at full-throttle
What was he thinking, he abandoned his heart
And lost his drum made with his own body parts
And alone he was, no hope and no drive
He had to find something more fun to survive.
He tried to become a family physician
But he knew this wasn't the right position
He refused and argued he'd never give up...
His bandages for anyone's nasty cuts.
He joined the circus for almost a day
But again, he knew, this wasn't the way
They unbound his bindings but he never spoke
Until they used him as the tight-rope.
So alone he walked, bitter and sour
Back to his home in the Haunted Tower
The town turned gray from the lack of spice
With nothing to do this would have to suffice.
“Poor drumming mummy, he offered such joy
When he banged and played on his favorite toy.”
“If only I knew where this mummy would be
I'd give him my bones and my flesh for free!”
Surprisingly this conversation transpired
Outside the place that the mummy retired
He heard everything that was said by the man
And he carefully formulated a plan.
He distracted the other and grabbed a big knife
He decided he'd end this wise man's life
He crept up behind him and whispered a, “Thank you
I hope you don't mind 'cause I'm going to shank you.”
The knife plunged deep with a raging fire
And to his surprise he just killed that vampire!
He laughed with a howl that scared the beast
That was running away down the street.
“Irony tastes like the finest wine.”
The mummy had very little time
He carved up the vamp and took what he needed
And to the heavens he calmly pleaded.
“My torment has turned me completely numb
But I promise I'll make a better drum!”
It only took minutes and was finally done
When, behind the horizon, fell the sun.
He set-up his station at his usual spot
Right next to an empty parking lot
He closed his eyes and picked up his sticks
And pleased the masses with his tricks.
The sound was as cold as the soulless vampire
But raged with a hot and terrible fire
Everyone cheered and screamed and howled
The mummy has bared a magnificent child
“Your drum, however, seems not the same
Does this new drum even have a name?”
“You better believe it,” said the pharaoh
“I think I'll call it the Ugly Sparrow.”
And with that he played for days and days
And played the music the people crazed
And forever and more he sat with his thought
And never again left this spot.
He turned down all offers and turned away work
And people called him a mindless jerk
“That's just the thing, to have all the fun
You can't have a brain while playing the drums.”
The raven looms the scourged dead sky
And flies by night to summer high
To wisp what to a widowed brew
You think that's art?
Alone the raven watches steed
And passes plainly soft; meed
To hallow falls and morning dew
That's art as well?
My soul is that of burning ember
Subtle sparks to Fall September
I have not chance what claims I do
I'll say it again.
I tossed that out in miniature times
Those seemingly fantastic rhymes
Yet weeks and nights you “artists” plead
For an ounce of something, not just weed.
I'll shit some rhymes and call it art
It's painful cause you're not that smart.
You aren't unique and full of might
So let us real artists take flight.
You're merely seventeen, you aren't in love,
you don't even know what love means-
neither do I,
and you may think I’m being ignorant
but I'm really just bitter to the taste and rough at the core.
My blood runs black, but my tears are sapphire.
My eyes are as glaring as the air in March.
Don't tell me my mind is powerless.
My soul is dense.
And though my heart is tattered and covered in scabs,
the wounds are more wise than your attempts of being an adult.
You may slush wine in a glass-
as tipsy as the seesaw on the playground from your childhood,
with the big yellow slide and broken tire swing-
but you will never be able to see.
You can sing and dance that you're in love because you fucked the first boy that said he loved you,
but you shouldn't be so naive,
because it’s easier to be hurt if you are.
So you can wear your six inch heels
and prance around in your chiffon mini skirt and Chanel handbag,
but you will never be a grownup.
Please do not look into My Poetic Eyes
Your heart will be captured by this thief in disguise
My true eyes you will never see
My imagination expressed through my poetry
I'm just another tortured soul
Who has traveled down many dark roads
Observing life's pain exposing the lies
My reality illuminated through My Poetic Eyes..
That special you is always there that special you really cares your there for me when im sad that special you is there and im glad,you wipe away my tears when i feel down that special you is always around for when i need you most with my challenges in life that special you is there by my side.that special you brings out my smile lets hope your around for a longer while,that special you lights up my soul as your a ray of sunshine with a heart of gold,that special you i will love with all my heart ,that special you shines like a star so bright and beautiful you know who you are. that special you an angel by far .
I. I thought you were her world;
Her paperback novel
She could ponder quotes in
And crack the spine of.
But you’ve now got police orders against you
And the pain of missing you
Seers the seams of her striped-sweater heart
And though you’re trying to get into Green and Ginsberg,
She can’t see what the big deal is.
You were the Holden Caulfield
To her Jane Gallagher
But Holden never took Phoebe
To the mattress so
I guess that makes the two of you
Sid and Nancy
II. I suppose she never believed you
When you told her that you were an alcoholic.
Because alcohol burns
And though you lit her fire,
You couldn’t keep it burning.
You told her that you didn’t read
And she should have
Backed away then.
But she didn't.
Because you played accordion
And dressed like Gatsby
And she adored that for a good while.
Until you told her that you despised the Rolling Stones
And may have committed a murder.
Even then she did not back away
Because you bought her cigarettes
And hit on other girls
While she waited for you
To give her the boot.
III. She liked your accent
But it was just a sweet, endearing cover up
For a mind as empty as a gypsy’s wallet
And a rich man’s soul.
IV. You liked to give her drags
Off your E-cigarette
Because it tasted like cherry Pez
And you wanted her to see
Or rather, taste,
Kissing you was like magic
You moved on to an older broad.
Her lips met yours
You tasted like heavy booze
And she was too desperate and twisted
To really give much of a damn.
So she accepted it
And moved on.
Because you called her pretty
And made out with her in the forest,
Denim scratching denim,
Hearts hurting hearts.
VI. She didn’t know you were homeless.
Maybe she did
But she didn’t accept it.
Like an elderly doesn’t accept death at first
And attempts to bargain.
You smelled horrible…
She believed it to be a natural thing.
But you were neglecting your hygiene and with that,
Her as well.
And the only thing you cared more for than sex
Was the Sex Pistols.
VII. You asked her to take off her glasses one day
And with one look of her freckled,
Pimple-shell ridden face,
You told her she looked like Ramona Flowers
And upon googling who that was,
She nearly crapped herself in glee.
She should have taken it as a sign
When you began to find
And tiny reason to touch her in as playful a way you could.
Through tiny nudges
She should have seen the possibility of romance blossoming.
But you were 29
And she, 17.
Twelve years, practically
Between the two of you.
But your undivided ideals
Brought you only closer together.
You were an English education major,
With a III mark after your name
And Megaman on your walls.
She took one look
At the astounding possibilities,
Drew a breath and fell in love with
Every little thing about you.
Unnoticeable thing about you,
From the scar
Stretching down your spine
To the scruff on your chin…
Deeper in love with you
Than she ever had before.
And she saw a dream,
That came in on a hot summer day
With Taco Bell