John the revelator wrote:

All the angels in heaven sang
Ceaseless praise unto the Lord
The Lord finally asked them to stop
He said all the praise was going to his Godhead

Eight beers
And the 'sprinkles' on the ice cream
Is all I need to ignore your audacity.

Well, maybe not.

You forget
I'm in it to win it.

One with all things.

Who you really think is spitting tunes?

It all comes from me,
Even my opposition
Believe me.

I don't think as well when the noise goes around my cranium,
Through my ears and into my skull where my brain resides,
So when the sounds begin a journey that subsides,
All of the thoughts come to light,
Less frightened of silence.

She keeps songs
locked away in boxes
like secrets.
She will take them out
like postcards
to help her remember
the feeling of
a different time,
a different person
by her side.
She likes the one
that makes her
eyes close
to see the lights.
She smiles at
the one that  
makes her stand
up on tiptoes,
the one that
helps her forget
she doesn’t know
what to do
with her hands.

The tune
will carry her.

Like it did
the times when
voices broke
like a heart.
When instruments’ strings
would snap
and hurt.

hanging bonsai bloom
flaming  clouds at mountains sky
Pastel blossom sight

Shell✨🐚

our lips will never meet
nor our fingers intertwine
and so bless my dreams
for indulging what's not mine

Cover me with the haze of
Fragmented years,
Let me sleep through this autumn
Where rains greedily devour
Dying leaves,
And streams flow into the rotten silence.

Clothe me with the moss
Which grew in the wrinkles of the forehead,
Make me senseless for the cruel fingers of the northerly wind,
And the silver which dwells
On Venus Hill,

Just leave my eyes naked
To count in them rings of the birch tree,
Which cut down
Our immeasurable distance.

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)

i spent my life trying to please
someone with a twisted disease
i broke myself down
and tucked my feelings away
to become the person
they wanted me to be
i let myself be watched
through the glass of a two sided mirror
of a sociopath
i wallowed my spirit away
and begged for acceptance
but there’s nothing in the world
that i could do
to let the narcissist know
that i am human too

my one wish is
to find someone
who sees the world
as beautiful as i do
with their mouth
preaching poetic beauty
as i have once did
to all the boys
i have loved

Bright as the sun.
Green as leaves.
Deep as the ocean.

She is a poem of his heart
He never disclosed
In front of anyone.

If you’re the one that’s so concerned about the world ending
Why are you trying so hard to bring it to it’s knees?

nothing is colder
than a broken heart
on winter's heels

As I stand on my lowly lit balcony;
I look up at the vast sky,
Blanketed by light, not a single star in sight;
The city around me glistening in light,
Overshadowing the natural glow of the stars;
The night sky vanished, not a single trace left,
Leaving me wondering what will disappear next.

You were born near the warm ocean,
grew up around there,
With your clear acrylic smile
and sun-kissed blonde hair

I, the winter cold
More north than I can remember,
We met that day you visited,
a brisk chill, that December

We drank and danced,
while the years passed over
Argued and grew apart,
our greatest fears, now sober

My memories of you, once treasured
Now, faded
as sun deprived lands complain,
Forever, jaded

watching snow pour to evermore
with milk and honey handsoap

Trace the light
I will kiss your eyes
Keep the shadows at bay
Suffrage at the wait of dawn

There are seven wilted lies
that hangs by your smile
Doubt brushes
when you dream
Turns the Sun
in the curtain of your sleep

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.

Now read from bottom to top.

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."

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

I thought if I could swallow the stars
I’d be as beautiful as the evening sky
I tried one night    with fireflies
They burned my throat
Their legs striking at soft flesh
But my skin did not glow
No moon crawled from my eye sockets
I was left with corpses in my stomach
I soon learned I would only ever be
A cemetery

"Though it was at my hands, it was your weight that suffocated me."

My Mind the prison.
My Heart and Soul prisoner.

The chains,
Anxiety and Depression.

My Body the canvas,
Mindful of my Oppression.

nothing would make me happier
than to hold your hand for the rest of our lives
grow old with you
and watch our grandchildren play under
the magnolia trees in the summer sun.

The wheels on
the wagon rattled
down a mountainous
path. Through the
trees you could
       see the still fires
       burning charcoal
       and sap. The moon
       shine was heavily
       guarded it was
one hundred proof
if not more. Her
brother was ******
*******, after all
that's what kin folk
were for. Her pappy
        taught her to make
        white lightning, she
        worked for the sweat
        of her brow. She
knew the grip of the
law was a tightening
she had to make her
delivery some how.
        She carried a map
        of the county, she
        knew where to hold
        up and hide. She knew
on her head was a
bounty but she never
broke down and cried.
She had a good reputation
      along with a very good
       head. In her there was
       no degradation, she
slept with a gun in
her bed. Some folks
just called her Maddy
she was the pride of
      her town, sometimes
      you'll catch her drinking
      moonshine, when ever
      the law ain't around.

Why do I crave
Your attention
This late at night
All I need
Is your breath
In mine
To stay alive