Oh my, my, my...
It's a toss up really
On how much time I could spend
Reading the novel vs drooling
With fantasies firing like fireworks
Over the gorgeous muscular alpha male
Who could take me to such passionate heights
Of all kinds of enthusiasm
Making me screen in ecstacy
As he roars in beastly conquering!
If he weren't just a picture on a cover....
Well that excitement lasted like a second
Brainless...that's what he is...literally.
I guess he loved the face
crinkling her nose,
as if she could ever look silly
I guess he loved the smile
when she caught him staring,
she always caught his eye
I guess he loved the excitement
she brought with her
everywhere they went,
always shining from her
I guess he loved the way
to hold his hand,
it always got him laughing
I guess he loved her too much,
because time was not enough,
and stole what they had
I guess he forget the tears
she easily cried
over simple things,
too fragile and weak
I guess he forget the nightmares
every night without his comfort,
always longing for his embrace
I guess he forget the mask
everyday of her life,
the only person to see her without it
I guess he forget he loved her,
because time was not the problem,
and what they had just
Somethings gotta be wrong with me.....im sick of being the "other" one.....the mistress or the side dish.....I want to be the one whos main babe....not the side gurl... Im sick of living that way. Its time I didn't let guys get away with treating me like im only 2nd best.....forget that I want to be The Only One....
it is true
when we give our blood too much
we aid in disempowerment
constant giving in love and providing does set unhealthy-precedent
and when it falters in its expected-rhythm
ugly-tantrums get thrown, bordering on disrespect
demands kick in hard upon trod-floor of insidious-hooks
there's always a rider for the other party on tightrope-theatre
some or other condition to feed the monster of excitement
while health straddles some jarring regions
in hostile-spitting strong enough to lance startling-injury
shoelaces dripped in hazard-oil over a generational-canyon
provides unwanted-fodder for establishing long-term slippage
(no! you weren't raised this way.. where does this stem from?)
there has been no failure to show how humans act and speak
this is unacceptable)
oh............you want / you want / you want..... all.. the.. time
then kick up unholy-storms when there's a break in rhyme
get ye, lad.. go practise your ire on a field
go throw a stick on the prairie
go find your path, you're old enough
yer insolence plain sucks!
(I could tell you .. you're rude.. go home,
but you already are!)
S T - 10 dec 13
it needs hair on teeth and grit in mouth to swallow some stuff, but persevere against adversity.. not always flippin' easy.
to teach independence and responsibility to children is a constant and ongoing thing.. one can hardly let up..
yeah, I guess it's the old adage of repetition, repetition, repetition ...
(there's a poem I half-remember.... about parents letting go of their offspring... natural pattern..)
between jagged-rocks and petulant-push
how breathes a soul
stuck in places where no space moves?
reach for the blue one.. then, a white one
later.. three small ones
wooden wheels of erstwhile-splendour
interest little to jelly already set
skull goes numb in efforts
can't keep placating, no
wrong to wring neck of bird
who feeds well the keeper
who keeps warm the feeder
who helps to lift the spirit
Everything is put into a sharper perspective at night,
Have you ever noticed the deafening loudness of the eery silence?
You start to comprehend a few things, but not quite,
You want to rebel, create a sort of defiance.
Just in time the others come out, they want to dance.
They ask you to join & promise to make you feel very alive.
You start to move, they watch you prance,
Though their stares are a bit unsettling, you abide.
You can hear your heart beat, or lack thereof,
You can feel your lungs constricting from the smoke.
You're getting carried away.. where's the sheriff?
Where's the ambulance? You're starting to choke!
Your thoughts swirl, your sight is nonexistent,
Your body crashes, you can't hear a sound.
"Don't worry, you'll be okay!" Oh what an optimistic,
You wish you were okay, you wish you'd be found.
The others have left, you're alone now,
There's nothing around you, nothing but stars.
You were expecting the time of your life, a big wow,
Silly you, thought you knew, nothing good ever happens in The Dark.
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.
Perception, keep it far from me it means nothing…
The chemical imbalance…
distorts, rearranges, changes, and manipulates what’s real.
Sleep, slumber my long lost friend, we once spent countless nights journeying the deep depths of my conscience and subconscious mind,
to places of pure ecstasy
Now we meet only when the black outs come
I guess there aren’t dreams when you die.
I take in more death.
I dig deeper into nothing to try and find something.
Nothing is all I find,
there is something there
the white canvas is blank,
but I see…
I touch enlightenment as I soar through space,
my white canvas has become stars,
Life is all perception
keep perception far from me it means nothing
just pass me the death. Inhalation.
The sweet death fills my lungs, and takes hold of my soul.
My perception is a layer of my intelligence.
I can cease to perceive and still exist.
I hear vibrations at moving frequencies that can not be quantified,
I visualize images that can’t be personified,
I smell the aura and aroma of pure existence,
I feel the texture of objects beneath my flesh,
and I taste life on the tip of my tongue,
the taste of loss,
peace, and enlightenment.
I am living, but I am dead. Inhalation. I breathe in death.
I breathe it all the way to my soul.
My body shutters.
Time fades in and out.
I no longer perceive I only exist.
The Frustration Is driving me insane
I thought you was Abel turned out to be Cain.
Sometimes I want to push you in front of a train but
that would be to easy these days seem so much the same
Patience is a virtue yes I'm frustrated and may hurt you
only to feel bad because the human in me hurts too
My quest for happiness is like a trek to find the end of a rainbow
I've lost my light and my path I don't know which way to go.
Seems a lot of people would like to see me fail and
well I've done just that and somehow avoided jail
It's a wonder I'm still alive seems it's not my time to die
I bottle up emotions and at random moments I cry.
Used, abandoned, No one came to pay my ransom
Now damaged, unrepairable, but still somewhat handsome
Life threw me a fastball and I struck out a few times
my days are filled with lust No wonder I learned to rhyme
trying to climb my way out of my hole hoping this may be my gold
I haven't accomplished much of anything at 23 years old
Yes, I've wrote a bunch of non sense
but it has brought me not one cents and
I'm actually in debt for sharing my two cents.
My life is like a comedy I, myself laugh maniacally
at one point someone thought I was inspiring.
I try and stay optimistic hoping to ease this stress
as I feel the rope tightening around my neck.
The lightning bolts my only hope the reason I log on
if you didn't give me strength there's no way I could write on...
Thank you to everyone for your support and love
it goes along way.
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.
Our hunting party chased the thundering herd
over the endless plains from the sunrise
into the sunset with her splendid colors
resting for the time being.
We abandoned the prosperous foray
as the Great Spirit’s
twinkling diamonds began to cover,
spill like milk across the cold night sky
with great blessings.
Somewhere the coyotes laughed.
The fires raged high, danced shadows on our faces
as we sat cross-legged, describing the day’s events
with much fervor. Tall Crow Chief and Crooked Nose
laughed like children when they talked about their kills.
Those two had great skill when it came to hunting Tatonka.
As I listened wearily, the voices of my tribesmen
began to sound muffled, things felt more surreal,
I could not comprehend their words, which seemed eerily to go silent.
As if in a trance, my wanton-mind drifted with sensuous thoughts,
floating in space, back to my pretty maiden waiting in my lodge,
a full three-days ride from this manly-place.
I envisioned us both naked,
wrapped in each other’s gentle-arms,
her underneath me on top,
she submitting to my will,
my fervent desire to seed her
with my fiery warrior spirit.
She is a spectacular sight to be seen!
Her thick flowing hair is like the pitch of the night
with a voice like the nightingale,
keen-eyes as dark as raven’s tail feathers.
Her sienna-skin smooth as white man’s silk,
she has a strong feminine-sinew grip,
nips at my neck in
our primal ecstasy-states.
flow like a cascade with lovely fragrance,
sweet as sweet grass in the Spring.
I cannot ignore her tender kisses
when I release, when I spring forth.
Her sighs comfort me like none other,
her eager pushes to get more of me,
every single drop of me,
makes this hunt worthwhile.