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)

Her eyes were fiery
While her lips peeled away
Her sun was setting
But her colors never fade
When she bites she is bitter
But when she smiles she is sweet
Like a nectarine emblem
She’s the fruit of life’s tree.

He asked her what it's like living with anxiety.

She smiled sadly, "It's a never-ending pulse-race. Like knowing you don't want to jump off a cliff but not being able to talk yourself down from it.

Your fears take on a nebulous, unidentifiable form that tightens around your throat and incapacitates you.

There is no calm. No peace. Only the edge of a very strained thread."

Brain, brain go away
Don't want to listen one more day
Already lonely and afraid
Feel insecure and full of shame

Brain, brain don't act this way
You're always angry; Filled with hate
You know we're joined; Can't separate
Yourself your punching in the face

Brain, brain what can I say
To make it so you see things straight
Don't know how much more I can take
Of constant warring and debate

Brain, brain it's getting late
This journey's not some endless race
Life's flying by and at this pace
Forget a win; Not gonna place

Brain, brain let's medicate
I'll feed you drugs and we'll sedate
The only way to mitigate
Discrepancies we generate

Brain, brain we sadly waste
This outcome feels like it was fate
But never was there a sealed date
Fulfilling what we self-create

Brain, brain so much we faced
Success so close could almost taste
Instead our tail we always chased
We'll die alone sad and disgraced

I wonder what it’s like
To be loved by someone
Romantically

I see people kiss in movies
And run my fingertips along my lips gently
Wondering what it’s like

I yearn for it
But don’t know how to go about it

...the meadow and the puddle
you wouldn't come out of

wild and simple joy

invisable to eyes, now...

I wander the meadow grass

the fields where the flowers glow
in early morning
sunlight

the fields you
only dream of
where your soul is always free...

and you come running

spectral through the mist

I walk lonely fields

I woke up from a nightmare
I could not stand to keep
to myself

you were stretched across the couch
coffee going cold on the table
a half finished cigarette
still burning

you wrapped me up
in kind words that
I could not bare
to hear

whispered into my ear
"one day we will go wandering
and this tiny house will overspill
with dreams'

you are not your memories, darling
you are not the bad things
that have been done to you
you are a fierce flame
that warms my heart

forget them, my love
they are nothing
and you, and you
are everything

I wonder if I really am kind hearted.
Most people think it’s true,
But maybe I’m just afraid of being mean-
Maybe I’m afraid of being you.

I'VE SEEN THE MOON BEFORE

i was out in the backyard
finishing late season yardwork
it was clear and crisp, aptly cold
i looked up as i was finishing
to see the moon, high in the sky
white glistening, giving a glow

i've seen the moon before
but couldn't take my eyes off it
wife called me in for supper
we talked casual, usual small talk
i helped her clean up the dishes

we went to bed, before we did
i asked her to look outside to see
what i had seen, she did as i asked
wasn't it amazing?.. we made love
falling asleep in others arms

i woke up some time in early morning
it was freezing, i closed the window
before i did, i looked to see the moon
shining so bright, so close almost to touch it
i got back into bed, she had rolled away from me

i laid there with my eyes wide open
thinking there are many things to be counted on
life death, a sensible spouse, a house over my head
was it enough or could there be more to this as the
loneliness i felt settled in the sheets between us

by Michael Perry

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."

no one loves me
but they claim they care
if they really did wouldn't they see

i am falling apart
fragile to the touch
yet they keep on pushing me

closer to the edge
and they think i can take more
so they push farther till i'm at the brink

it's like they know i can't swim
but they are going overboard
and they'll be suprised when i sink

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.

am i
in love

is this
what love
feels like

euphoric highs
suicidal lows

suffering withdrawal
anguish

craving you
like a drug

when you
are gone

elated
calm

only
when you’re here

and i’m in your arms

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

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.

lights flicker
in the distance
far far below

I’m here
looking down on it all
wrapped in a blanket
a book lies next to me
pages flipping themselves
in the cool summer breeze
inside are the sounds of life
outside are the sounds
of the questioning
the air is filled
with random notes
fluttering around me
like guardian angels
I know why they’re here

darkness
sat down
next to me
to keep me company
we look at the flickering lights
in the distance
he tells me
you’d do fine down there
if you wanted to
be a light
surrounded by light
but then he shifts his gaze
the moonlight
dancing through his being
but you’d do great
up there
be a light
where no one has dared to be
and with that
he left

we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections

Sorry,
I love myself more.

Saw it all,
One last time...
Slowly, pressed "DELETE"
Swore to myself,
This mistake shall not repeat.

But I know, you know
I was bluffing.

It happened again.
I saw it all one more time,
One last time.
But this time, my hands don't tremble
I press not slowly, but swiftly "DELETE"
And I know, for sure,
It won't repeat.

I wear the
blister
that’s on my
finger
like I was
rewarded
a badge of
honor;

it’s my proof
that
I’m a hard
worker.

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.

we’re  average all the way
we wake up with puffy faces
sometimes we spill our coffee
on really important papers
we mix up letters on the keyboard
tripping over our own feet
way to often
it’s fine
we’re human all the way
even the oddest mistakes
are okay

I’m so sorry
But I’m gonna need you to be strong for me
Just a little longer

going home isn’t always
returning to a place.
sometimes
it is returning to yourself.

caught in a conflict
one has my time
one has my attention

he has my heart
the other one has my affection

my heart is tied to both
but the strings are getting tangled

which one do I have a future with?