I learned
to plant the seeds
of happiness.
There are flowers
blooming
where the scars
used to be.

R.M.

My own internal clock stopped ticking
Emitting
Transmitting
Is this a new beginning
The phone keeps ringing
I keep on tripping
I’m quickly sprinting
Slowly Forgiving
I found my meaning

On A Broken Landscape There Is A
Little Moor
With Sentinels And Their Shadows
On A Sun Washed Floor
Now If You Turn That Landscape
And Go Across The Heath
Youll Find A Mosaic Of Colour Under
Every Leaf

there was a dawn
floating over the odds
out of sight
where many had rusted

he hovered above
the ominous plaster,

and the fear he caused began

You were  my cross,
    stigmatised for loving

                                        you...

  
  But I'm crucified
for loving him.

I think
therefore I question
I question
therefore I anguish
I anguish
therefore I tremble
I tremble
At the the thought
of the answer

The sand shifts beneath your feet,
Your heart relaxes to a quiet beat,
The waters seem to breathe day and night,
Close your eyes take it in do not fight,
The wind satisfies your soul,
Just relax now you've played your role,
Touch the sand now scoop it up,
Hold it in your hands and form a cup,
Now let it seep through towards the sandy ground,
Your soul was lost but now its found,
The weather you desire will come your way,
Just stand closer to the bay,
Soon life will be eternal for you and me,
Look beyond the ocean and tell me what you see.
                          -open heart poetry

They are made of stars. Made of celestial beings, ever-present and never failing to make people gape at them in awe. There’s that unwavering need - itching under my skin - of desire to be selfish. To linger my hands on their flawed, moonlit skin. To be able to cup their heavenly face, to be able to peer into their starry eyes up close; I have never kissed a constellation but I would very much like to. Maybe my love for them is planetary and astronomical and maybe all I can do is orbit around them

Tell me
Your fantasy of God
Of goodness
Kindness
Tell me of sinners
And death
Speak of angels

While you’ve been smiling
I’ve been dying.

While you’ve been laughing
I’ve been crying.

While you’ve been kissing her
I’ve remained alone.

While you’ve been talking with her
I’ve been drowning in silence.

While you’ve been dreaming
I’ve been thinking of you.

While you’ve been happy
I’ve been writing stupid poems
And wishing death upon myself
Because I see no light at the end of the tunnel.

I know
You care about me
10 more people do
Yet I can't get rid
Of this feeling
Of doom

I know
I have you
10 more people too
Yet I can't find a person
To talk to
late at night

You made me happy,
manifested from the fear
of self isolation
you had already trapped me.
so sorry you had me

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

It snowed atop the mountain,
a cold wind blow,  
in the meadows the winter has said hello.

Not everything needs a poem
Sometimes
it’s already

good enough.

Thanks.

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

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 like *******.
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.

I'm a poet,
I have nothing
except words.

I'm a poet,
I don't care about
the world.

Take your money,
take your cars
take your pearls.

I'm a poet,
I don't care about
the world.

Well, yeah, sometimes
I wish I was
someone else.

But I'm a poet,
poets can't escape
their Fate.

The sun rising in a gloomy loom
The Haze the room in filthy noon
Everything is falling
Unraveling in a doom
Suddenly astonished with
A lonely tune
I sat on a chair looking at the moon
And asked what a lonely June
Why why is this
I said I guess It's just a wound
A wound from my past
That won’t heal soon
And then sadness filled up the room
I cried I weep to look at the stool
A child a dog that looks at me
wondering soon
The sadness and longing for a
Lovers loon
How will I long for love to bloom
When no one but just shadow
on my memories fume
the flickering bickering arguing
And suffering
The pain the lost in freezing frost
An atmosphere of a life that has no cost

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.

Live love hate forgive
while reapers are having tea
the earth is calling

Red were the roses, the ones I left on your casket,
Orange were the leaves, the ones in your tree,
Yellow were the bruises, the ones that covered you head-to-toe,
Green were the stains, the ones left on the hems of your jeans,
Blue were your lips, the day you were found in your noose,
Indigo was the night sky, that night that you died,
Violet was that bruise, the one you wore around your neck

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)

In the beginning it was magic,
With that came deceit.
Then the mask came off
And finally, you were seen.