I remember the evening
that we sat clinging
to paper cups
of coffee gone cold

over secrets spilled and memories told
two bodies cursed
with hearts grown old

behind your eyes
I found new worlds
A winding road stretched out for miles
to a small cafe at the end of the isle

Sweet pastries filled the mouths
of those who sat beside us
and stayed for a while.

How the hours went by,
people just passing through
The descending sun ending
a forever with you.

Kiss my hand,
and hold my check,
and tell me of great adventures.
But don't just whisper them in my ear,
Make them happen,
have them appear.

I have story,
There were three friends,
two of them were lovers.

I love you,
and you also love me.
Our friend was happy for us
but things had changed.
You left me,
and you two started to begin your story.

this is why I'm so careful not to catch feelings,
not to meet someone like you.

I knew I wasn't ready (I'm still not)

but now you're gone and I'm wondering
     where you are
     what you're doing
     if you've met someone better than me yet

dear you,

i’m in love.
yes. you were
waiting, i
bet, for this.
this time, though,
it is not
what you would
think. it’s me
this time, not
you, although
it’s still you,
but not in
the way it
used to be
you. it’s my
fault this time,
my doing,
my painful,
pitiful,
suffering.
it’s you in
the sense that
i cannot
control you.

this time,

it’s your mind and your thoughts
the things that slip off of your tongue
the words you put, pencil to paper
the ideas that come out in your songs

it’s your eyes and your sight
the careful observation of beauty
the need to bask in warm, pure light
the stare you give me, rarely now

it’s your movements and your touch
the hugs where you grip my shoulders
the times where i’m drunk and playing with your fingers
the warmth you give off and your gorgeous smile

none of them
are mine to
have, to take
to keep, to
love, to break

i miss you
and to go
and detach
to break what
we have, that’s
the hard way
out. but i
am trying
to help me.

i feel the
same way i
did when you
said i was
wrong about
this. about
how i feel.

i try to
not panic
and quiet
sob in the
bathroom at
3:27 am
every night.

i’m hoping
disposing
myself of
you, means that
the dreams will
go away
too. but if
they stay,
i’ll give you
a quick call.
probably
a text, to
be honest.

i love you,
unhealthily,
with every
part of me.

keep in touch,
please.

love,

me.

Do not pause
for it is not in the spirit of love
to be still for so long.
Just as a river
does not stop in its tracks
for fear of overflow.
Just as the sea's are never still.

Just as the sea's are never still.

cuts breast cancer risks
cuts the risks of heart disease
treats asthma, coffee

Whatever it is,
It wells up inside me like a cup runneth over.

Whatever it is,
It is my Crimson and Clover.

Whatever it is,
It is over and over.

Another day was gone,
tomorrow is another day down.
...See you soon my beloved hometown!

A 1000 piece puzzle with one missing piece
Is nearly finished yet wholly incomplete

If you're looking
for a reason to live or
a reason to deal with it
then please allow me to
join your search party.

Right person at the wrong time?
But maybe there isn't a wrong time
If it's the right person

Cast your demons to me
That I may dispell them
Wisps of smoke
Fading into the night
Confide in me
That you may know
I will not abandon
The promise I made to you

Flickering white
and orange specks, crowded
in a universe,
under a blanketed
warm sky, and us
enveloped between
cool earth, grass blades,
I'd forgotten to look
up at until you.

Set the alarm
Lock the doors
Lock the windows
Lock the shutters
Find the cricket bat – “put it by your bed”
Say goodnight to mom and dad

Although young, not naïve
I knew every night had the possibility of being my last

A routine that is now muscle memory.

Fear –
You may think
But life –
Normal for me.

Wake up
Turn off the alarm
Unlock the doors
Open the windows
Open the shutters
Put the cricket bat in the cupboard

Never being able to be left alone at home. Unwillingly dragged from store to store.

But – that’s the thing –
People don’t know the real Her,
They know the exquisite scenery, the unforgettable wildlife
They don’t know… But I do.
Because She is my home
Because being in constant fear for my life –
is normal.

Confused –
What do I tell people about Mother when they ask?
The person who raised me, taught me how to be grateful, how to ride a bike,         how to love.
Do I tell them? Will I scare them?

Although hidden beneath the tyranny – I would say –
the bloodshed
the faces of malnourished children left for dead on the side of the road the poverty struck soil the corruption      the greed the hunger the death the separation of class and race

Although a place feared –
Africa.

My Africa –
Whose sunshine you feel ignited in your soul
My Africa –
Whose smile is irresistibly contagious
My Africa –
Whose heart lies in the grassy terrain
The golden dunes of sand
The never-ending mountain tops
My Africa –
Who is the heart of various people
           cultures
   languages
          All who call Her home.
She is –
Where my heart lies even if I am thousands of miles away
Where my mind wanders from day to day.

Her air, instantly calls you
Her smell, instantly smelt
Welcoming you ever so dearly –
      Home.

Like all good mothers,
She is the one who can handle both the tranquil and turmoil,
the love and war.

She is my home. She is who I fear of disappointing.

My Africa –
is beautiful.

Take me away
Because
The walls are stained
With sin and pain
That will never fade

this isn’t going to make sense
cause it’s not supposed to
and if I’m being honest
this isn’t for you
it’s not even for me

I’m stuck
I’m trapped
I’m lost
I’m every other word that describes people who feel at a dead end

I’m typing on a ****** phone
That’s connected to a ****** connection
That could possibly be a metaphor for my life

I’m writing
Because I don’t know what else to do

I’m writing
Cause that’s what they told me to do

But they also told me that what I think isn’t always true
That I’m special and I just don’t see it

But that’s the thing
I don’t see it

And if I don’t see it then why should it matter if anyone else does

And if I’m thinking something why should it matter if it’s true

What matters is that it’s in my head
What matters is that it’s always there

But here I am
Stuck in the same place
Back to square one
No progress made
The same questions, whether true or not

Will I amount to anything?
Do I really help?
Am I really worthwhile?
Do you actually care?

I see these people
When I’m online
They smile and post
They edit and pose

I can’t help but wonder

Do you really smile, or do you just do it to look happy like me?
Do you really feel happy, or are you trying to lie like me?
Do you understand what I feel?

Or is it just me?

I’m not trying to be selfish
I don’t want a lot
I just want to be happy
And I want others to be happy with me
But neither is happening

So instead there’s a poem
That doesn’t even ryhme
That makes no sense
  I’ll try harder

A Poets quest.
An ABCDERIAN poetry form.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Avant couriers of final solutions
Battalions left fighting by the way
Condescending world powers twittering
Deeming all they say as gospel of the day
Everything under the sun or darkest shadows
Foolishly not admitting their own failings ever
Gathering hatred at each turn of every corner
Happy that their heads were in the sand.
Indiscriminating constant betwixt good n evil

Janissary exterminates all cause or principal
Knowing nothing of the true skill of judgement
Lasciviously take good from good for no good
Microlithic walls of stones to cover errors
Navigatiors using ancient charts for guidance
Outrageously heralding credit for the route
Perchance they knew no natural pathway
Quadrature at ninety between the sun n moon
Revived old Christian scruples long forgotten

Saviours ? Save all states from self destruction
Tablature of a tragic outcome hard to face.
Unequivocally tough on any creed or religion
Vededictory taken two thousand years to build
Wrapped indiscriminately up in just one missile
Xenelas now mankind from each world corner
Yea from peaceful pastures grazed for years
Zion heaping up evangelical dogma.
              Pray to *** and let us learn.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
December.  11th . 2018.

i have learned to without you
i have learned that there is more to life
than you
of course, it still hurts
but one day, this poem will no longer be about you
and i will be the one that got away

your loss, babe

I know where this path leads.

A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of ****
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
don't

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.

my words are tired
want to be loved
want to be held close as you fall asleep

my words want to have a home
want to be spoken freely
want to be met with open arms

my words want to live in the heart
be written in the teeth of a smile
be spun like wool from the tongue

my words wish to be heard
be embraced by open ears
be whispered in softness

i apologize to everyone
that i am leaving behind.
it was never your fault,
you've been nothing but kind.
i promise that i love you
and i always will
but sometimes, late at night
i wish time would stand still
so i'm stopping my own clock
don't worry, you'll be okay
we'll see each other soon
you'll be in my arms again one day
i'm sorry i had to leave you
but please don't miss me
i'll still be there by your side
don't cry, baby, you'll see

A blink of words
That can't be said
Or even be written
She is poem of thousand words


She is fierce and gentle
All at once
She's a song
An unending song


She is a sparkle
She is a shine
She is the only thing
That i want to call mine

She is my everyday
And an everynight
She is every morning
And an every twilight


She is all i know
She is all i see
She is a sweet melody
She is an  unmatching rhythm

You were at fault,

And

I blamed myself.

Because

I loved you even through the heart break.

I could fall asleep on endless,
Drop from the stars above,
Drown in the darkness of the pond,
Or dance off the highest peak of the mountains.
I could drive to and through the end of the road,
Drink 'til my liver's thin,
Or dizzlily walk into oncoming traffic,
And, honestly, that would be okay

I write really bad poetry,
that is really good