Someone asked me to draw
Draw what heartbreak looks like
I finally got tired of drawing a broken heart
And I started drawing you

The little cat sat in the window
She was watching the snow falling outside
This was her first winter

The little cat

Inside was at all Christmas tree
It was decorated with bright lights and ornaments
The lights and sunlight made them glimmer
At times it looked like they were covered with diamonds

The little cat

The little cat loved to look at them and sit under the tree
She had never experienced the magic before
Recently she had been adopted

The little cat

As she sat at the window she had a deep feeling of contentment
The snow began to gently fall outside
As she watched the scene outside she heard faint music
She closed her eyes to listen
She was grateful for her new home and owners

The little cat

She was gold
I was copper
She was rare
I was common

On a bright blue sky
which is rare as hens
teeth in Ireland, I saw
a jet stream that looked
exactly like a tuning fork.
I don't suppose there is
any connection between
that and the sound barrier.

Dear me-
I think I can
love again,
not well,
but at least
I am trying.

Do you think a girl could love a boy who writes for her a million poems?  That's what I plan to do.

Stomp, clack, shuffle, thump
The foot hits the ground
At first only tweeting
Not another sound

Burning heat
Soaks through the skin
A Window opens
What lies within?

Each step forward
Another back
Can’t shake this feeling
Hug, break, defend, attack.

but you don't really know how to touch me

My breath
amidst the memories
and the ticking clock.

It's been too long
since I stopped and listened
to the gentle rain

or just paused to see
the sunlight on your face.

One









In
The                                                                 same

In 5 months
my life is over.
I’ve studied for 16 years.
What do I do when it ends?

Love
It is an emotion with all the power
I find myself saying,
I cannot live a fulfilling life
Without you.
I am happy.
Because I know,
This is what I've been waiting for
Love

Love is
neither eternal nor existential

its just like a spark from a flint in a flourished forest.

When the spark vanishes the forest burns.

what is one supposed to do when they are feeling never enough because they have given too much of themselves to others and the world around them.
live life unfulfilled because they have given their most vulnerable parts a spotlight on a lonely stage.
days go by on a continuous loop and they feel like their purpose is withering away in the wind.
what is one supposed to do.

She asked me to get drunk
and write poems.
I've been around the sun
Twenty nine times and can tell you
that love is like
reading Bukowski

I told her what it felt like to be held
and feel like you’re nothing and nowhere.
She told me what it felt to hold and feel like  you’re something and everywhere.

And Jesus
and all of us
wept while the sun
fled west to Copernicum
With roses in her wake.

A poet is no more than a person
A mother
A daughter
A lover  
Someone needing release
Or someone needing to recover


It’s the art they create when that ball of ink or stick of led dances on the canvas they so perfectly prepared.
And when the end result and their purpose become perfectly paired.

To give us naught but bleak display,
To say, to say,
Love has never tethered moon
That way,
That heather never blooms but brays
To drop the stars in sage and grays.

And in this flash hewn verdance sent,
Aghast the sea in violet vent,
Abhors the ******-singed regret,
This skirmish lost though never met.

And where upon a furrowed leaf,
The miner enters as a thief,
To take the blood but not belief,
Was not the time to span a grief?

But given naught but bleak display,
That tethered moon has gone astray,
And pulls not tide but skin away,
To slink beyond a son and pray.

on good days
sunrise follows sunset
the world of beauty
is born each morning

on bad days
sunset follows sunrise
darkness is coming
we're all gonna die

every other
day of the year
I have better
things to do

Ive lost all motivation on loving you
Being with you is tormenting
You drag my soul made blue
And you've made me hate loving

Anger corrupts my heart
As beautiful awakenings disintegrates
You enabled my introvert
Now depression reincarnates

I'm so blue it has become evil
No remorse can be tamed
Everything seems vile
It appears I am chained

Loving you felt so euphoric
Until you cursed it for fear
Now I stand disorientated
As everything is unclear

do you have the

chops to be with

The Word as it dies?

poet a race human--

imbedding a chest...

left  to its own devices.

let it alone.

I go to some meetings
they are meant to help

but all I feel like is a scope
of a presence coming through

a following of all the lives
that people live to them selves

coming out in the open
weighing down everyone's own individual loan

She takes the stand
With the voice of millions on her back
And speaks the fact that we all know,
far too well to be true -                  
                                           Me too.

She is heard but not believed,
She is heard with faith deceived .

When will it be enough -
Is one in six not enough ?
Is one sister, one friend
still - not enough?

one colleague, one mother, one wife, one lover -
one teacher, one doctor, one preacher, one author -
one husband, one son, one brother.
Which one will it take, to stop
the non-consensual clock
and make us realise that -

Time. Is. Up.

I'm jealous of the rain
It gets close to you
Closer than I ever will
It touches your skin
It combs your hair
It comes when you're sad
It stays when you're happy
I love you but you don't love me
So I say
I'm jealous of the rain

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.

hello, everyone!
i’ve decided to move to a different
platform where i’ll be posting my
polished writing pieces (both old
& new) from now on.

this page will now serve as a place
for me to dump my raw & unedited
pieces. though it would mean a lot
to me if you checked out my works
on the new platform, too.

here’s my tumblr url:
https://easefullys.tumblr.com/

all the love, eureka.