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 Nov 2016 The Ripper
Death-throws
A poet dies not when he looses the will to live
But when he looses the will to write
 Nov 2016 The Ripper
The Dedpoet
All the silence does not mean
You are alone,
It is the world waiting for you
To listen;
And in the darkness you are
Found by the light
Of your hope.

And in the tears of your
Pain you are born,
There you become stronger
And it creates order.

Pick up your flesh as your spirit
Lifts,
And speak your happiness
As if the tip of your tongue
Was the mountain's peak
Speaking at the sky,
The burden is a caged bird
And only the conscious can set
It free.
And sing to yourself so that
You know you are never alone
In your body.

Know that your crazy is beautiful
Because it makes you YOU,
Wear your skin like
Your cozy blanket and cuddle
In the warmth of yourself.
     You are not broken,
But scattered like the night
With pieces like stars shining,
    Open your pain and yourself
To the wound of the world and heal
Whatever you choose.
tight muscles, the pain,
the stress of the day,
you can wash it all away
with a glass of chardonnay,
easing the constant anxiety
that comes from the responsibility
of day-to-day reality.
flush it all down, along with your sanity
and just wash it all away.
clouds of crimson blush
painted the afternoon sky
in a lovely shade
 Nov 2016 The Ripper
tl b
Anxieties
 Nov 2016 The Ripper
tl b
confused convictions
carry so much weight
& grasp my neck with
a hard, hard squeeze.
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