Here's a poet's plight:
To force words to come is a fight;
Gorgeous nothings hold no light;
Meaning shall not bow to might.

Thirty thousand words or more –
All just sounds heard before;
But somewhere deeper there's a door,
A certain feeling from some core.

Or, in clearer words:
I have nothing Great to say,
but That shouldn't stop me anyway
From speaking when I feel I must;
No other way to reverse this rust.

Perfection is a savage
Curse to ravage the mind
'Round and round in circles, growing blind.

But of all the stones and stars
Or overpriced, shiny cars
The greatest gift of all you give
Is that you let me gently live.

You accept me as I am,
Tarred and scarred and marred with gray,
There's a thousand whispers, but they're all okay
When they won't be judged anyway.

There's this frustrating little tic
Where no words can quite click
Because no lovely language can compress
or stress enough meaning into a tiny little space
That could give a hint of a trace
Of the meaning that was felt.

Suffice to say it seems somehow insufficient,
Nothing Great, simply true:
You're wonderful as you.

forever with me
so interoceptively
i sense your spirit

wri
ting is
threading
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
secrets
you'll
get
po
ke
d
a
l
i
t
t
l
e
.

Waking up from a sleep
to the sound of a
deafening silence.
Everything is visibly dark,
blackest of black
as black as black could be.
I can feel the floor beneath,
moving ahead, it's a tunnel.
A white dot discernible
suddenly at a distance.
With time, it grows bigger
and whiter like a light that
fills the view of your eye.
Immediately, everything
is white. White light.
I had died.

First I was a drop in your dead sea.
Next, a wave in your hurricane.
Then I was the rocks you raged against.
Now I am the clouds;
feeding you still,
but out of reach of your drowning embrace.

Would you spend the night and talk?

Tell me secrets, maybe walk?

Laugh around and share my air,

Show me someone could still care?

Fix the bruises on my back,

They are painful, turning black,

Save my soul from leaking out?

I can't keep myself about..

To accumulate money,
Is a slow and steady process.

But in the blink of an eye….
It’s all gone.

No more green bills
To make you happy & cure your problems.

There is a certain comfort
in some uncertainties.

On Sunday evenings
When it was too snowy to get out
If we couldn’t make it to church
While the dog slept at our feet
M father gave the
Evening service in his slippers

Little did she know,
I love her
and the chaos
in her heart.

If we danced in the moonlight?
If it was deep inside the forest?
If we both weren't breathing?
If we were both faking just for fun?
If we could find a way?
Would you dance with me?

I have stumbled
I have fallen
With an empty soul
A heart and mind
searching for a way
I saw your hand
Reaching out to me
Unsure, nothing to lose
I took it
You picked me up
Now we walk together
As you hold my hand
You guide me along my way
You whisper to me
Follow me and you will know the truth
~

I will watch your whites turn pink, because I put my red sock in your laundry
out of spite