I used to read your poems but lately you don't write you're silent and aloof you know that isn't right. You can't close a door once opened you can't abolish all your dreams you're a poet of the heart mustn't fall apart at the seams. Say what you can in words they speak the message true spoken from the heart the poems will see you through. A hermit's not your style a recluse, you are not never give up writing of things that you've been taught. I used to read your poems I'd read them once again if you would send them out (this one's from a poet friend)
The way I treat you is toxic and.. Do you deserve better? Yes Will I let you have better? No. I need you. I want you. I’m sorry. For treating you this way. I hope one day you’ll realize you deserve better And move on. Until then I’ll keep you mine. I’m sorry. Be mine Forever Or until you realize you’re worthy of more Then move on onto someone better Someone who’ll treat you well And not be toxic I love you.
They said, "The most beautiful art is looking into someone's eyes when they talk about the things they love." And I said, "Or looking at someone you love. Or maybe, just maybe, by looking at the mirror is the most beautiful art anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
I place my feet into a bucket of water displacement I remove my feet water rushes in to fill the void Soon the water seems still as if my feet were never there When we stop swimming in the ocean of life the void of us fills with water just the same. What remains of us? The energy of the currents and waves
Early summer churchyard awash with spring flowers flooding to its old walls under dark years the small stone angel stood over the beloved once bewept lichened by time she waited forever no one came anymore only the wind and the sun the sundial at the door only knew today birds singing swooped across the silence in silent stone prayer she alone remained with the playful squirrels butterflies or bees resting on her folded wings caught the sun filtering softly through dancing flames of young beech as it moved from dawn to eve...
- a tasteless empty word like numbness of the fingers like numbness of the tongue a numbness of heart and false plastic lungs - bland face bland skin bland stomach and bland eyes - gleaming with wax satisfaction in a false candle pose bland wax candle prose written by plain poet hands -
I am a wax figurine poet who writes beautiful but bland verses.
Whether a comma, or colon: Punctuation slows my rolling I need no period. When I end no Capitalization when I begin Rulelessly I flow my art Not a single! Exclamation mark Are you not the one Who'll know? Where a question mark No longer goes
Warp the structure Bend the lines Put in repeat Let emotion unwind Make yourself Your poetry's the best Be your own ruler Pass your own test
Take your own road Where ever it leads Lover or hater It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim .
Hay No matter who you are You have my deepest respect!
Vanity All is vanity The meanings of passion The aesthetic expression The lines we draw and stay within Even love is beyond intent Vanity transcends Flowing from our pens And so we breathe again
Left for good Bad is right Living a one way life Wishing to end This life of sin
~ In the end one then begins to right the wrongs; from insight ,with what we write in songs. a night alone,beside urself in a fight for gold frigid& cold feelin naked & ****** bruised bleedin all because wireless network pending payment delayed and and my messages not sending nor recieving and in traffic but with my 4 bad habits safe to include i forgot if it was right ? Maybe left?
For good If only we knew Our way of life If only we knew The struggle The fight left inside Wrong is wrong Right is right
I love him I tell myself I know that We will be together forever I don’t believe that We could be separated My thoughts tell me that He’s the love of my life Sometimes my heart lies and says I could live an eternity Without him Like my friends say “We’re perfect for each other” And you can’t tell me He’s not the one.
The way you stand The way you sit The way you secretly laugh for a bit You’ve been hurt You’ve been broken And yet your heart is wide open You think no one sees You think no one cares But that is really just not fair Because I see Because I do My heart is filled by just looking at you
In the morning of yesterday There were strangers talking in my garden, heads close together Intent on each other, in whispers I heard them say your name And the earth shifted a little...the season moved forward a little And I heard myself sigh like a dreamer
Harvesting hearts and marigolds The thief steals in when we least expect it, masqued and lithe Wanting an exploration of Souls Oblivious, if we’re generous But still the knife cuts deeply...the blade turns without intention And I’m bleeding out like a Madrigal
I loved you too much in the Mirrorfall I found you in the violin’s shadow Dust and star tears are my witnesses I love you My joy and my abyss
When He saw famine, He fed them When He saw plague He healed them When He was reviled, persecuted betrayed, scourged, broken, impaled and crucified. He blessed them. When He bled, He sanctified them When He embraced the sins of a wicked world, He redeemed them
Not a conditional, but a declarative. What DID Jesus do?
You told me not to get lost in the woods I am sorry but I had to search for the one that made me insane My reason for loving and living Now I am back singing a bitter symphony, a cruel harmony I wish I listened in the first place