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Tyler A Sullivan Feb 2021
Myself i held with surety, and tighter still my intuitions
And every action or conscious idea I perceived right
But after the shadow of your burden shaded my mind,
I took my gleeful optimism into your crimson night.

Where kettles and pipes and burning cigarettes,
Filled my nose with scents of foreign avenues,
And jangley buskers crooned into sweltering evenings,
With anodyne preachers sermonizing ‘round the fescues.

And midnight walkers- shades to the dark,
Beats of the beaten left out in the world,
Would pass our meager partition
Above which hung the nation unfurled.

In early morning six by six shackles
Walls stained from years of fire and tar
The end always seemed so near
And the world too far
Nov 2020 · 90
A Lovers Tale. Interlude
Tyler A Sullivan Nov 2020
Under a blanket of stars
Under an orange haze
That was the most brilliant
Of our loving stage

With the same old pair of eyes
I glimpse the outside through the blinds
Not a single chance of a thought
Had purchase in our minds

We sat barred against our consignment
Defiant of the dawn
Chasing memories before
They had a chance to be gone

Loving the evening hours
When chaos slept under linen
I knew we were to end
Before we were beginnin’

But it was an affair pure
Was it not
I’d spend it all again
Without a thought

Life moves on
With or without you
And it's not what we did
But what we do

I should not mourn
Or remember this moment
When my minds eye
Is gazing at the firmament

I wished you love
You promised to stay
We stumbled sometimes
Did  lose our way

Of all these things
That could have been
They must end in the now
Instead of a further then.
Tyler A Sullivan Nov 2020
Well it seems like the fourth time around

And I'm at it again

With the jangle of Dylan

Growling in my head

And all my Cathy's

Now call themselves Kate's

And my little paradise withers

As shadows bloom at the gates

I speak with Kerouac and Cassady

We've all missed our departure

In a hairy spot at the seminary

Surrounded by devout tonsures

I look for the soul with certainty

Not in those bricks placed level

I seek in the grass for my angels

And to my friends for the devil's

They meander somewhere off into a sumit

And fade into the metallic racket

I know the air will thin and degrees plummet

We pray that they've both brought a jacket

I catch a ride with a pal of mine

I think he knows me well

We laugh, we remember, all crazy smiles

But even now I can never tell

I lay me down on an unkempt bed

To sleep just to dream of you

I thought I understood just one

I thought I thought I knew
Tyler A Sullivan Nov 2020
I remember ****** years
And better days
I remember that cloudy sky
And those glorious rays

I remember better loves
And the ones I wanted
I remember being truthful
And all the times I fronted

I've seen the warm people of my life
Grow cold and shy
In but a moments universe
I've seen their many faceted eyes

With a sideways glance
As if they are saying as they waltz out the door
It's been nice but I'm wanting- wanting always more.

Downcast and sunken
My eyes are stuck on the ceiling
Oh, where are the people
Who are struck with more feeling

I lift myself but a little longer
To tidy up my lifes content
I would give these sentiments
But they lay there dusty, remain unsent

I know I have abandoned
And been left by others
I've seen my greatest enemies
Die like living brothers

Oh, his hand creases all our fates
Leaving no lilly to linger
Boldly trying to shield herself
From the wind that subtlety stings her

But she's like all
And all are like me
We will face old time
Be washed to the sea
Nov 2020 · 64
Written In Des Moines
Tyler A Sullivan Nov 2020
I touched the turbulent sky on parchment paper wings,
Crashing to the morning mist engulfing me in those terrible tresses.
Oh, how a constant echo of sorrow rings
And everything is wicked that reality undresses.

And I ever long for that open abode,
Where those in flight soar peacefully
But my feelings are suppressed and the worst stowed
And I hold myself down with the weight of me.

Look upon those clouds, carelessly they drift,
Much like my thoughts they disappear
And now that radiating rift
Well, it was never so near.

I grow old but remain so young
My naivety is a razor, recurring and unrighteous.
How many sentiments has my heart sung
I know this one is over and any effort gratuitous.

I wish we could fly to the south of France
There we would laugh, love and dance,
But like everyday and overnight
There fades in and out the light.

These romantic stories fail
And all my rights reveal my wrongs
We find it dying like the last ringing chord
Of two lovers sharing a sad song.
Nov 2020 · 764
To A.A./ Tangerine
Tyler A Sullivan Nov 2020
Who now is this smiling
Forgotten, Positively high
Just yesterday i was reeling
From the blindspot jabs of soft goodbyes.

But still these hands are ever restless
Rhythmic at work and upon the walls
But the altar remains breadless
And the garland lazy droops in the halls.

Well, it seems certainly I’ve seen
That remaining glow, that faint sheen
I’ve heard the wind shyly whisper
Tangerine- Tangerine

Is there now nothing to do but softly sigh
And to remember all that I believe
To sit and succinctly cry
And at once be relieved

To extend my hand
To know another
Head in the breeze
Open from cover

Always happy
Never mean-
The wind it names
Tangerine-Tangerine

Bit of chaos in her
I've heard them say
I witness it’s panaish
Twice upon the day

Found some disorder
Here in myself-
Somethings are dead
Others are in health

Little wild
But a dream-
The wind its cries
Tangerine- Tangerine
May 2020 · 78
For Rebecca, My World
Tyler A Sullivan May 2020
Have I not written a single sincere line,
Before, it all came with effort forced
Or, in absence of one that could endorse
These sentiments given-free of mine.
But now i believe that I could speak free
And be listened to with full attention,
And it is no doubt my every intention
To return the favour of her gifted glee.
If i must sleep then i must die,
But to spend an evening ever repining
When before me this lovey sun is shining
Begs to question the very reason why.
Be still you fool, my heart of mine
It is with a purpose we are here
To live in the living present
With the ones you love near.

...

And when I am a nerve .
Bare and vulnerable
With words serve
A felling comfortable
You're of a like to me
And I myself in you
Guide me make me see
For me it's all so new
I feel your presence
Like the temperate breeze
A flower blooming in pleasance
Opening with ease.
I could spend hours
Amongst this flower
My head so far above
There is no power
In which we should cower
For all we need is love

...

Oh, Light up the moon my love
Light up the moon and see
That all heavenly bodies
Exist in reflection of thee

Oh, raise the dawn my darling
Raise  the dawn and find
That all these insecurities
Exist only in the mind

Oh, stay strong my sweet
Stay strong today
My love I give to thee
In all charitable ways

Not words nor actions
Could adequately display
The love I feel
Each and every day

So light up the moon my love
Raise the dawn and see
That you are my universe
Containing all things dear to me
...

I could have a platue of green pastures
On the loftiest of mounts
But I would be in her company
In liue of golden founts
And if it is she went away
I'd mark the time with bated breath
And if it surpassed but a day
I'd mark me empty with nothing left
I could praise in all convieable ways
The beauty of which she possess
But it would all pale and certainly fail
From what reality undresses
Have not worry nor restrain
But take comfort here in my embrace
I Feel not doubt or pain
When I look upon your face
I could stay awhile and with a smile
Forget these worlds of ours
And how he mocks the minding clock
Chiming upon the hours.
Other lovers swinging with their fist
With a waton force
But by chance they miss
And find purchase in remorse
But our hands are not for violence
But for caring touches
And if one of us were beaten
We'll be the others crutches
...

I've seen some love fail hard and soft
From a scratch or a killing blow
And some may casually  scoff
When i say mines aloft and theirs not so.
They'll call me a naive fool
And bound to fall,
I'll respond in certainty
That our love conquers all.
Her happiness, her happiness,
It happens to be,
The greatest thing
That matters to me.
To see them eyes the least bit teary
What a constant fear!
I'll strive until i grow, grow ever weary
To dry the smallest tear.
She brings me elation
With the selfsame caring heat
The sun brings to everything
Underneath his celestial seat
I have not lived until i loved;
Not like a child in apprehension,
But one the comes with reassurance
And with the purest of intentions.
I’ve had some moments
Of lasting regret
But in this moment
I do not fret.
It comes easy
When we speak
And my passion here
Is never meek
I'll love you
To the very end
Whether as a darling
Or a friend.
Mar 2020 · 71
Spring
Tyler A Sullivan Mar 2020
Gone was the lance leaved tree,
Whose darling greens lastly arrive
And are first to depart,
Heralding the turn in all alive.

The winter I found joy 
In the pages of a book 
But now it comes to me
In the babbling of the brook.

In December the bitter wind besieged 
Every inch of barren ground,
Now the days are soon to be
Warm breezes when spring comes around.

Tulips burst forth like missiles
 In Verdant fields of morning dew,
The time of dying is over, rebirth,
A time for everything new.

And here I am
On the eve of spring 
My elation returning 
Much like geese on wing.
Mar 2020 · 55
....
Tyler A Sullivan Mar 2020
I'll make a garden of all that progresses,
For this is an animate ground
Where there the celestial gaze hovered, granting leave for fruits to bear;
All things grow of Its engendering stare.
And unto me Apollo gifted his sacred fire
For me to gift to you this natural desire
For all little subsisting qualities
Of this rock sailing the stars in ellipsies.
Now here's that temporal tyrant
Calling those nearing their end to their end,
And how the poets cry out in sorrow
For those that feel the bite if his shrill wind,
But cry not and this sentiment evoke:
That the must conclude will again begin.
Here in my mind a thought awoke
That we shall never end.
Mar 2020 · 48
Untitled
Tyler A Sullivan Mar 2020
In my recollection we fancied the world ours;
We'd roam in desolate streets spending hours
In the dark, searching for shinning smiles to meet,
Looking for softly carpeted flats to have a seat.
Now we shelter ourselves in defeat,
Now we are but cowards.
...
Through the leaves down past the willow,
Up the creeping vine and slipping in the window,
Fragranced air comes to rest on my pillow.

Under the darkest shade of those trees
I glimpse a separate part of me;
He's wreathed in ecstasy.

I see me in the brightly feathered peacock forest
Roaming with that wind that the autumnal season sends.
Here he's happened on the rodents den,
Here it plummets without any foreseeable end.
...
Now I sit on stoep
Smoking my sins
Perhaps this is a loop
Is this where I've been?

There in that dishonest place,
Enthralled in that liquids hard embrace
I gazed on truths countenance
And was dubious of high romance.

Oh, me of mine
Farther than before
I lead myself
From the shore.

This vessel wanes I worry lest we waste the rest.
Look yonder the water how it begins to crest.

And what a vapid water did it look
At my first glance,
And now swelling in anger
Drowns recompenses fighting chance.
Mar 2020 · 51
....
Tyler A Sullivan Mar 2020
I hit a patch of ice (in paradise)
And off the path I went
Into the ditch (where they pitch)
Their little hobo tents.

And on a whim (I lived with them)
They were happy, I was sad,
They sat by fire (having little desire)
Enjoying what they had.

I stayed around (kept what I found)
And learned to smile again,
But in time felt a clown (made no sound)
Subsisting in my landed glen.

The wind blew free (it sang for me)
In natures subtle harmony.
Varied keys (through the trees)
It sang with sincerity.

I mingled there (in their care)
Those forgotten folk
Now here I am (doing all I can)
To finally end and croak.
Jan 2020 · 38
Untitled
Tyler A Sullivan Jan 2020
Into the eternal echo of the night;
On orange street light Lanes
A gathering of men in hazy sight,
There on avenues of cloudy disposition
Tis Me and Mine, musing- meandering on wing at flight.

In winter rooms with corridors of winter feelings
We slouch uncertainty blue,
We rise to put our ears to the ceiling
To try to hear what is true.

With reality rattling in my head
I step between the home of man and the nature of man,
I can't remember all that she said,
But I remember holding her hand.

What is real and what is not
Is never what I truly sought.

Just to know you're there
Someone to truly care .

On orange street light Lanes
My love timidly wanes.
Sep 2019 · 111
K.S.
Tyler A Sullivan Sep 2019
Oh, were my soul a metronome
And hers a beat playing over mine,
Yes I would, yes I would,
Nod my head and feel the time.

Oh, were my  love jazz in the evening
And I a listener reclined,
I would by multitudes start understanding
The preciousness  of her kind.

Oh, were my love softly playing
Against an evening everlasting
I would forever listen
To my loves endless broadcasting.

Oh, were my love a symphony
And I a stringless harp,
I would rise above the din
But fall flat while others sharp.
Tyler A Sullivan Sep 2019
I want to surround myself
With loving people
Who lift me up
When I'm feeling feeble.

I want friends who love,
That embrace me tight
When my daily activities
Elicits a fight-or-flight.

I want to bond,
I want to spill my truths,
I want to hear your struggles
Wether they're old or in their youth.

I want to know
That we're not together
In our loneliness,
Together alone forever.

I want to remember
Or experience for first
How a flowing love
Can quench my thirst.

I want to support,
I want you to know
That I will always be here
Wether you're high or low.

And if it is
That you can not see
I'll lend you my eyes
And bear your misery.

And if it is
You can not walk
Then I'll sit by your side
And together we'll talk.

And if it is
You can not soar
I'll give you my wings
Because i receive much more.

You're my friends
And I hope you call me the same
And as at the beginning, as at the end,
I'm glad you came.
Sep 2019 · 87
To H.W.
Tyler A Sullivan Sep 2019
When the kerosene lamp has heated the room,
The vapor with whiskey mixing producing pungent perfume,
Then I'll come to you in the dying light
To embrace you with corded muscles winding tight.

I'll taste your lips,
Dance my fingers across your hips,
Caress your stubbled chin,
Feel the heat radiating from your skin.

I'll bury my nose in sheaves of golden hair,
And breath, breath and be breathed, without care.

And even the slightest shift elicits a thrill of pleasure,
While time slips becoming impossible to measure.
Aug 2019 · 119
Turn Of The Season (2019)
Tyler A Sullivan Aug 2019
Turn of the Season (Expanded 2019)


For Friends and Family


Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.
                                          -Robert Herrick

Intoxicated nights of orange halogen lights-
Illuminating through misty blown water.
As the April breeze ruffles the newly sprung leaves upon the trees
Men pour malted liquor inside clandestine cellars of tuxedo staff and obsequious waitresses.

Echoes of an engine shuffles on down the alley,
Startled they hide in the cornered places.
Men enclosed in smoke talk of days of old,
And better times,
And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces.

Woman go about chatting of useless things and waste the night away.
Men sit about playing games of little meaning and waste the night away.
Both will head to familiar places at mornings first rays,
And April effortlessly falls into May.

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces,
Slowly trudging through the paces,
Slowly they tighten their laces,

And set out for another monotony dipped day,

Planting their ears to the ground listening;
And many things they'll hear and say,
With many hindsight memories in their mind glistening,
And their lovers will whisper are you listening,
And they'll say "yes yes my dear have no fear I am here".

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces.
And they'll make many a plan and in cases,
And step over cracks in fear of dark places.


The clink of a glass carries on down the hall;
The bartender while wiping the counter yells
"Last call",
And they'll retort "for what reason",
And he "none at all".
Then the bar goes the way of the shopping mall,
And summer slips effortlessly into fall.

What reasons can they make when the night is through,
When it's time to wake what will they do ?


As the days retreat with their hairline,
And each mirror more distortive than the last,
They'll retreat further, further into their mind,
And what will they find
With their sanity fleeting fast,
A desperate thought floating in the breeze,
A candle to thaw the freeze.


Intoxicated nights of solemn solitude,
Tucked in the back thoughts of a lonely suburb,
Trying arduously to abandon actuality,
But failing and jumping the curb.

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces.
"Sorry love they're not home I'm afraid",
"They've gone to the races",
Two lovers in two different places.

Rest assured rest assured they'll return,
They'll unconsciously sell their freedom,
Rest assured rest assured they'll return,
At this moment they are Carpe Diem.

Rest assured rest assured,
They'll be plenty of time
To fumble with furniture,
Plenty of time
To spend with her,
Plenty of time to waste
Plenty of love to give,
Now's to go slow not make haste,
Now's to go slow and live.


And they'll remember childhood
As a warm August kiss,
And where their feet stood,
And what they missed.
And when the leaves
Upon the trees
Fall down down down
To rise to their knees,
They'll remember who they are
And who they use to be.
            ...
And they'll come to age
Lost among the rushes,
And they'll gaze back on hesitation
Condescending conversations
Sharply silencing hushes.
             ...
So, before you grow old
And wilt away,
Before summer loses hold
And December has its day,
Enjoy what you have
For what you have is to enjoy,
For what you haven't
Are merely foolish toys.

This summer began as the last one did
And will end when Autumn bids
With the sun and stars above for you to see
Run around like children in the heat of lunacy.
...


Though I've fasted and wept,
Wept and prayed
And stayed stoic long
Through passing day
Scrutinized by throngs
I can never,
Never truly say
I have achieved arête.

No, I'm not the son of Xanthippus,
Who instigated the apogee of Athens.
The past beacons of Atticus
Dims my own ember passions.

No, I have not achieved what desired
Thrown to the wind it seems
Another day is expired
Forever slumbering in dreams.

Though I've loved and lost
Loved and lusted,
Won a few
Others busted,
Though I've seen the world at the needle point,
With all the sordid souls suffering,
I've lived like Cummings:
The farthest extent of emotions,
I've kept a drug induced devotion,
But never could I stop from wondering,
Never could cease sundering.

Oh do not say to me I have
squandered my time,
Racking the innermost emotions of my mind.

Oh do not speak of me
As if I were not here
But some sailor sunk at sea.

Oh do not confront my convictions,
As if I were a child
Lost among the maddening crowds,
Dreaming wild.

No, I am lost to the Demos,
They will not understand.
I wear a veil of pathos,
Deepening desolation with every  reprimand.

I've seen the valleys of my life
Where the flowers are disseminated like t.v. static,
And the only sound a high continual pitch.
                 ...

They've said go, Go I don't love you anymore
Not pretty enough to be a poem
Not intelligent enough to be of any use
                 ...
Though I've smiled and agreed
Agreed and died
Through all this hell
I have tried
...
You are not wrong who deems
It's all madness it seems

Life was so much more back then
At the apex of humanity
At childhoods end
We are met with insanity
  ...


They're troubled tonight,
Their restless gaze fails to penetrate the maw of a darkened window-

To have
To have not

To operate in the probity of normality,
To practice trembling sobriety,
To lose an arm for the ones you love,
To have in heart the morning dove,

Assures that come evening tide
Through shroud and delusion,
Secrets the world shall confide
And lift your illusion.
...

The very next morning
Or so it would seem,
Awoke the old men
Rendering a dream.

Patiently focusing
For a clearer account
The words from the past
They seemed to mount,
And as they pressed closer
Not to be deterred
It crested their mind
And then they heard

"Soured metal, rotted walls
Darkness hangs from hall to hall
Broken bonds burning ambitions
A feeling half held until fruition

Life a moment
A last choking breath
Happiness a second
Before eternal death

We exist only
In the time between
A hint of joy
Goes often unseen

Until again
The crest breaks
And life slips by
But leaves no wake

Such was the tale
Of the great eluder
A hidden knife
A dark intruder

A ****** thorn
Upon the rose
A heap of sand
At the toes

Left undone
The last request
Above the head
The water crest"

Intolerable mornings of required communion,
Accompanied with formulated phrases,
Men limp from church
Their mind wondering
Far from there
To their childhood breakfast table,
Breathing the memory becomes stable,
They hold on to it as long as they are able.

Plates of porcelain
Decorate the wall
Floral patterns swirling to the center,
Across the room mother enters,
The image wavers and ripples like water disturbed by a pebble


"Honey set the table
Get the biscuits, gravy, ladle."
Set the trays down equal from the middle, a cup to the left, forks and knifes to the right-
Get those filthy boon dockers off my floor and out of sight-
Go get your brother without causing a fight
BREAKFAST TIME
Rise and shine on the biscuit line
BREAKFAST TIME
The sun is up and shining
The coffee is on and the bacon frying"

The memory dissipated into a fleecy cloud.
It hangs heavy on their heads.
Remnants of yesterday remembered in indignation
When slipping off to bed.
  ...
With no more action left in my bones,
With no reprise resting at home,
With no pleasure found when I roam,
Distant memories I sentimentally comb.

These gems
Are all I have left,

I'll leave none for anyone else,
Just an old man
Riffing through the shelves.

Poor in mind, poor in health,
Just an old man
By him self.

I'm in the December of my days
And stuck fast in my stubborn ways,
If only I could grasp youth for longer !
If only my frail body were stronger !

If only I were confronted again with every last myriad encounter where I chose reticence,
Opposed to openness,
My martial mind refuses any peacefulness,
Perhaps the reason of my restlessness.
...

Shaking off the foreboding dream,
A distant luminary seemed to gleam,
An old man frail but proud
He spoke a poetic oration aloud.

"My head is swollen, my mind it wanders
My tongue is twisted stumbling it stutters
My thoughts are lost in the colliding clutter,
My meaning is lost under soft mutters.

My smile shields my solemnness,
My eyes reveal my weariness
I am a man of little happiness,
But refuse to possess helplessness.

I am as I decree,
An old man wrapped in misery
But not one broken to submission,
Just one in a transition.

I have tasted the bitters of love,
Witnessed the horrors of death,
I have choked my linen dove
To its final breath.

No, I am not a careless senior
Full of content
Shriveled in demeanor
Mind absent.

I'm dying not dead,
No resolving to expiration
Living instead,
No meeting expectation,
No bowing my head.

In credence I say
I'm living for today

No consideration for tomorrow
No more drowning in sorrow."

...
The heavens opened with their finale word
Come old man and join my hurd
Or was it the universe who spoke
What who gently stirring
Now awoke

Both, one or two, or together in unison
Whispered of sweet reconciliation
Come home my tortured son
Saved from damnation

Or was it darkness who called
Finally silence for body mauled
By time ever moving hand
Come rest in the ***** of the land.

His perception thinned
And then it was as he never been.


             .....



The day was overcast
Fitting the mood
Black suits stood in formation
While the unlucky ones heaved their load.

                    ...


Words spoken to strangers and colleagues.


"He was not an exceptional man

Not one of great worth
No wife, no kids, no friends.

To an outside eye it would seem as a waste
And maybe it was
But that's the nature of things to end abruptly
On a minor note"

Written by
Tyler A. Sullivan
Aug 2019 · 98
To M.S.
Tyler A Sullivan Aug 2019
Here I recline in suppressed eagerness
Trying so dearly to quite my wandering thoughts;
Oh, how they race drawing hopelessness 
From what my actions have bought.

From the self same source comes my anxiousness,
As does my unrelenting doubt,
You're at once a rain of irreproachable loveliness,
And an impenetrable drought.

Oh, do not think me absent or unkind
For I hold the greatest interest,
But it seems I'm hopelessly blind
Even to the greatest insistence.

And if it were so easily accomplished
I would speak my truest intentions,
And my hesitancy would be abolished 
And there would be just one loving dimension.
Aug 2019 · 88
Untitled
Tyler A Sullivan Aug 2019
Oh, were my love to stay away,
I would not know what I feel.
And if it were she may stay,
I would find if it is real.

But she was gone for a spell,
Is it alone I feel this loving splendor ?
And if it is I can not tell,
Do, to my feelings, I surrender ?

Oh, were my love to stay away,
I would not know what I feel.
But if she were to stay a day,
To her, my heart would be revealed.
Aug 2019 · 124
Ww
Tyler A Sullivan Aug 2019
Ww
Little gnat that buzzes 'round,
Persistently posed in front of my pondering,
Never caring if I smile or frown,
Just glad (I think) to intrude my wondering.

Do you know I work nightly ?
Morning dove with song so sweet,
The song so sweet would cease shortly
If you had not taken to wing, but to feet.

In my soul nature still holds true,
But what would Wordsworth understand
Reclining in glistening dew,
What nature has made of this man.
Jul 2019 · 103
Violet and the Bee
Tyler A Sullivan Jul 2019
The woolly violet was never one for monogamy,
Ask her suitors, the honey and bumblebee.

Just as soon as one suitor is done,
Out on the air buzzing another one comes.

A symbiosis, a quid pro quo,
It is natural for lovers to come and go.
Jun 2019 · 200
Bookshelf
Tyler A Sullivan Jun 2019
I stack wayward books
On my little nightstand
Up and up they timidly teeter
Then to the ground crash land

I hammer and cut and force the joints
Together
Now a thing can stand
Now my books squeezed cover to cover
are close at hand
May 2019 · 79
In and out
Tyler A Sullivan May 2019
A little lady with golden shimmering sheaves,
In and out, in and out she tours
Out the door she gently leaves,
And in she comes back once more.

A man of no consequence stands
In one place never moving,
Except when his hair demands
That it needs some smoothing.

Poles apart it seems,
Proximity of the highest degree,
A thought only in dreams,
When will they both see.

In and out, in and out she goes
Leaving auras of glowing light,
He not knowing as he tip toes
That his love his just and right.

Infatuation a feeling that wrenches,
A thought far above,
He his destined to inhabit the benches,
While others fall in love.
Nov 2018 · 465
Turn of the season(2019)
Tyler A Sullivan Nov 2018
Turn of the Season (Expanded 2019)
TURN OF THE SEASON

For Friends and Family


Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.
                                          -Robert Herrick

Intoxicated nights of orange halogen lights-
Illuminating through misty blown water.
As the April breeze ruffles the newly sprung leaves upon the trees
Men pour malted liquor inside clandestine cellars of tuxedo staff and obsequious waitresses.

Echoes of an engine shuffles on down the alley,
Startled they hide in the cornered places.
Men enclosed in smoke talk of days of old,
And better times,
And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces.

Woman go about chatting of useless things and waste the night away.
Men sit about playing games of little meaning and waste the night away.
Both will head to familiar places at mornings first rays,
And April effortlessly falls into May.

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces,
Slowly trudging through the paces,
Slowly they tighten their laces,

And set out for another monotony dipped day,

Planting their ears to the ground listening;
And many things they'll hear and say,
With many hindsight memories in their mind glistening,
And their lovers will whisper are you listening,
And they'll say "yes yes my dear have no fear I am here".

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces.
And they'll make many a plan and in cases,
And step over cracks in fear of dark places.


The clink of a glass carries on down the hall;
The bartender while wiping the counter yells
"Last call",
And they'll retort "for what reason",
And he "none at all".
Then the bar goes the way of the shopping mall,
And summer slips effortlessly into fall.

What reasons can they make when the night is through,
When it's time to wake what will they do ?


As the days retreat with their hairline,
And each mirror more distortive than the last,
They'll retreat further, further into their mind,
And what will they find
With their sanity fleeting fast,
A desperate thought floating in the breeze,
A candle to thaw the freeze.


Intoxicated nights of solemn solitude,
Tucked in the back thoughts of a lonely suburb,
Trying arduously to abandon actuality,
But failing and jumping the curb.

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces.
"Sorry love they're not home I'm afraid",
"They've gone to the races",
Two lovers in two different places.

Rest assured rest assured they'll return,
They'll unconsciously sell their freedom,
Rest assured rest assured they'll return,
At this moment they are Carpe Diem.

Rest assured rest assured,
They'll be plenty of time
To fumble with furniture,
Plenty of time
To spend with her,
Plenty of time to waste
Plenty of love to give,
Now's to go slow not make haste,
Now's to go slow and live.


And they'll remember childhood
As a warm August kiss,
And where their feet stood,
And what they missed.
And when the leaves
Upon the trees
Fall down down down
To rise to their knees,
They'll remember who they are
And who they use to be.
            ...
And they'll come to age
Lost among the rushes,
And they'll gaze back on hesitation
Condescending conversations
Sharply silencing hushes.
             ...
So, before you grow old
And wilt away,
Before summer loses hold
And December has its day,
Enjoy what you have
For what you have is to enjoy,
For what you haven't
Are merely foolish toys.

This summer began as the last one did
And will end when Autumn bids
With the sun and stars above for you to see
Run around like children in the heat of lunacy.
...


Though I've fasted and wept,
Wept and prayed
And stayed stoic long
Through passing day
Scrutinized by throngs
I can never,
Never truly say
I have achieved arête.

No, I'm not the son of Xanthippus,
Who instigated the apogee of Athens.
The past beacons of Atticus
Dims my own ember passions.

No, I have not achieved what desired
Thrown to the wind it seems
Another day is expired
Forever slumbering in dreams.

Though I've loved and lost
Loved and lusted,
Won a few
Others busted,
Though I've seen the world at the needle point,
With all the sordid souls suffering,
I've lived like Cummings:
The farthest extent of emotions,
I've kept a drug induced devotion,
But never could I stop from wondering,
Never could cease sundering.

Oh do not say to me I have
squandered my time,
Racking the innermost emotions of my mind.

Oh do not speak of me
As if I were not here
But some sailor sunk at sea.

Oh do not confront my convictions,
As if I were a child
Lost among the maddening crowds,
Dreaming wild.

No, I am lost to the Demos,
They will not understand.
I wear a veil of pathos,
Deepening desolation with every  reprimand.

I've seen the valleys of my life
Where the flowers are disseminated like t.v. static,
And the only sound a high continual pitch.
                 ...

They've said go, Go I don't love you anymore
Not pretty enough to be a poem
Not intelligent enough to be of any use
                 ...
Though I've smiled and agreed
Agreed and died
Through all this hell
I have tried
...
You are not wrong who deems
It's all madness it seems

Life was so much more back then
At the apex of humanity
At childhoods end
We are met with insanity
  ...


They're troubled tonight,
Their restless gaze fails to penetrate the maw of a darkened window-

To have
To have not

To operate in the probity of normality,
To practice trembling sobriety,
To lose an arm for the ones you love,
To have in heart the morning dove,

Assures that come evening tide
Through shroud and delusion,
Secrets the world shall confide
And lift your illusion.
...

The very next morning
Or so it would seem,
Awoke the old men
Rendering a dream.

Patiently focusing
For a clearer account
The words from the past
They seemed to mount,
And as they pressed closer
Not to be deterred
It crested their mind
And then they heard

"Soured metal, rotted walls
Darkness hangs from hall to hall
Broken bonds burning ambitions
A feeling half held until fruition

Life a moment
A last choking breath
Happiness a second
Before eternal death

We exist only
In the time between
A hint of joy
Goes often unseen

Until again
The crest breaks
And life slips by
But leaves no wake

Such was the tale
Of the great eluder
A hidden knife
A dark intruder

A ****** thorn
Upon the rose
A heap of sand
At the toes

Left undone
The last request
Above the head
The water crest"

Intolerable mornings of required communion,
Accompanied with formulated phrases,
Men limp from church
Their mind wondering
Far from there
To their childhood breakfast table,
Breathing the memory becomes stable,
They hold on to it as long as they are able.

Plates of porcelain
Decorate the wall
Floral patterns swirling to the center,
Across the room mother enters,
The image wavers and ripples like water disturbed by a pebble


"Honey set the table
Get the biscuits, gravy, ladle."
Set the trays down equal from the middle, a cup to the left, forks and knifes to the right-
Get those filthy boon dockers off my floor and out of sight-
Go get your brother without causing a fight
BREAKFAST TIME
Rise and shine on the biscuit line
BREAKFAST TIME
The sun is up and shining
The coffee is on and the bacon frying"

The memory dissipated into a fleecy cloud.
It hangs heavy on their heads.
Remnants of yesterday remembered in indignation
When slipping off to bed.
  ...
With no more action left in my bones,
With no reprise resting at home,
With no pleasure found when I roam,
Distant memories I sentimentally comb.

These gems
Are all I have left,

I'll leave none for anyone else,
Just an old man
Riffing through the shelves.

Poor in mind, poor in health,
Just an old man
By him self.

I'm in the December of my days
And stuck fast in my stubborn ways,
If only I could grasp youth for longer !
If only my frail body were stronger !

If only I were confronted again with every last myriad encounter where I chose reticence,
Opposed to openness,
My martial mind refuses any peacefulness,
Perhaps the reason of my restlessness.
...

Shaking off the foreboding dream,
A distant luminary seemed to gleam,
An old man frail but proud
He spoke a poetic oration aloud.

"My head is swollen, my mind it wanders
My tongue is twisted stumbling it stutters
My thoughts are lost in the colliding clutter,
My meaning is lost under soft mutters.

My smile shields my solemnness,
My eyes reveal my weariness
I am a man of little happiness,
But refuse to possess helplessness.

I am as I decree,
An old man wrapped in misery
But not one broken to submission,
Just one in a transition.

I have tasted the bitters of love,
Witnessed the horrors of death,
I have choked my linen dove
To its final breath.

No, I am not a careless senior
Full of content
Shriveled in demeanor
Mind absent.

I'm dying not dead,
No resolving to expiration
Living instead,
No meeting expectation,
No bowing my head.

In credence I say
I'm living for today

No consideration for tomorrow
No more drowning in sorrow."

...
The heavens opened with their finale word
Come old man and join my hurd
Or was it the universe who spoke
What who gently stirring
Now awoke

Both, one or two, or together in unison
Whispered of sweet reconciliation
Come home my tortured son
Saved from damnation

Or was it darkness who called
Finally silence for body mauled
By time ever moving hand
Come rest in the ***** of the land.

His perception thinned
And then it was as he never been.


             .....



The day was overcast
Fitting the mood
Black suits stood in formation
While the unlucky ones heaved their load.

                    ...


Words spoken to strangers and colleagues.


"He was not an exceptional man

Not one of great worth
No wife, no kids, no friends.

To an outside eye it would seem as a waste
And maybe it was
But that's the nature of things to end abruptly
On a minor note"
Written by
Tyler A. Sullivan
Oct 2018 · 121
Sonnet
Tyler A Sullivan Oct 2018
If i were to take of the angels share
The unattainable liquor of that batch,
And to you present a drought pure and fair,
In hopes for you to compel  a barred latch;
Would you to me reveal what within lives,
Unconditionally with no thought of clauses.
I most certainly would have love to give,
And would not dream to idle at all by pauses.
We will waver wherever all loving long day
Only few words spoken, agreements to say.
So be that we are not right cognitive,
It matters not for it is a life lived.
Sep 2018 · 153
Hiking song
Tyler A Sullivan Sep 2018
The river's wide, it shines in sun
I am a child so young and dumb
So many miles we've walked and sung
Rejoice rejoice we've just begun

The sparrow sings in natures throng
It echoes through the valley long
It kisses ears and rights our wrongs
Rejoice rejoice a hiking song

Where oh where should we roam
Down past scarp where river flows
Eddies swirling swarthed in foam
Why oh why only nature knows
Sep 2018 · 1.3k
Gentle cricket of.....
Tyler A Sullivan Sep 2018
Gentle cricket of yonder chirp
Rhythmic in you solitary cry
Edging my humble forgotten thorp
Where dreams peter out and die

A village slipping with the vale
Tis mine, and alone for me
Ragged breath struggling I fail
No rectitude in this misery

The huddles empty with molded thatch
Walking down valley to meet dell
The cricket  summons a parting glass
Sweet regards friend, farewell
Jun 2018 · 228
Wed, June 6
Tyler A Sullivan Jun 2018
Hands of love caress with carring certainty.
Eyes of lust linger on languished lips
Hearts of Hearts exist infinitly
Lost, lovers joined at the hips.

Do I feel
My nights afflicted by insomnia
Is it real
amor vincit omnia


July a cold month, in loving embrace
The nights march forward
In a loving rat race
Care for me, never leave me
She says so sweet
Once in hazy humidity
And our souls are complete

No, this is not me
Lost in blonde sheaves
This is her
Fearing I'll leave

The road I yearn for
Set out before me
The out door
Sets me free

Hand me The parting glass
Hand me the the last of the whisky
Cheap one drank cold and fast
One born Larceny

Tethered together
Me and the pavement
No time for forever
No time for enslavement

No time to affectionately embrace
None for love, idyllic, and family
No time for my future to be traced
None for domestic calamity
May 2018 · 145
Take me
Tyler A Sullivan May 2018
Take me to the sanctity of Alta Gracia,
Wash me with the cleansing waters of the LaBarque,
Putting to rest the inexorable, Rome and Thracia,
A beginning to an end that is stark.

Fly me on the wing to a melodious memory,
Bury me in a sentimental tomb
Forget me in the centuries
And leave me for doom
Apr 2018 · 148
No. 1
Tyler A Sullivan Apr 2018
Remember the nights of KirkWood,
Putting behind the restaurants
Having penny brews,
Utterances of "the world is ours if only, if only"
If only we knew,
Life's eventual consignment,
Would we still sit in ****** idleness
Would we still shrink from our fearfulness,
Would we still resolve to our confinement.

I can't keep myself from yawning
And stuttering in the cognitive fog
"What's the word, what's the word"
Ideas stumbling along.
Minor in a major song
Claustrophobia in the citys throng

Tethered to hayseed communities,
Languishing in outer fringe suburbia.
Apr 2018 · 136
Untitled
Tyler A Sullivan Apr 2018
Golden glow and luminous stars
Exist in but a second between
The great bow man and distant mars
The heavenly body's have always been

The radiant sun rises from the shallows
As a blanket of fabric drapes the river
The light shines on glorious hallows
Behind the water comes the great giver

A time between the heat of day
And the cold dark of night
A time where memories stay
Just before Procyons flight
Mar 2018 · 119
Untitled 53
Tyler A Sullivan Mar 2018
My mother was worn down
By another fleeting frantic morning
My brother bounced 'round
And erupting with around
Earned himself another scorning

I lay between sleeping soundlessness
And wakeful motion
And me in my restfulness
So comfortable and not yet dressed
Was committed to my devotion

To be obstinate through disruptions
ignoring the turmoil of my mother
my brother's scheming decptions
His  boiling youthful eruptions
the sounds of smacks that fell upon my brother

And me now stiring
Smiled at the swelling scene
And now aware of what was occurring
Laughed with senses keen
And still not prepared
To intervene
Stretched and stared
At the battered fiend
Mar 2018 · 181
Violet
Tyler A Sullivan Mar 2018
I have laboured to long in lofty warehouses,
Sweating and beating my youth ere destined.
Bonded to work; married capitalist, dreaded spouses,
Stocks of little value I've invested in.
I, still young, the light of verdant fields upon my face,
As refreshing as the woolly violet,
At the eve of spring when winter fails to pace,
Radiating purple defiantly inviolate.
Bent back, broken ambition
Youth fails at maturities fruition
Feb 2018 · 151
Spring.
Tyler A Sullivan Feb 2018
Blue springs of antiquity
So few, and far between
Ink blots stain my memory
Of faded colors seen

When spring is swelled, looking for outlet,
From heaven the catalytic substance falls
The dandelion and woolly violet
Answer springs heralding call

As if the season's canvas upon easel
Persephones brush runs rife
With one motion a retrieval
Of yesteryears bountiful life
Tyler A Sullivan Feb 2018
TURN OF THE SEASON

For Friends and Family


Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.
                                          -Robert Herrick

Intoxicated nights of orange halogen lights-
Illuminating through misty blown water.
As the April breeze ruffles the newly sprung leaves upon the trees,
Men pour malted liquor inside clandestine cellars of tuxedo staff and obsequious waitresses

Echoes of an engine shuffles on down the alley,
Startled it hides in the cornered places.
Men enclosed in smoke talk of days of old-
And better times,
And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces.

Woman go about chatting of useless things and waste the night away.
Men sit about playing games of little meaning and waste the night away.
Both will head to familiar places at mornings first rays
And April effortlessly falls into May

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces
Slowly trudging through the paces
Slowly they tighten their laces

And set out for another monotony dipped day

Planting their ears to the ground listening
And many things they'll hear and say
With many hindsight memories in their mind glistening
And their lovers will whisper are you listening
And they'll say "yes yes my dear have no fear I am here"

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces
And they'll make many a plan and in cases
And step over cracks in fear of dark places


The clink of a glass carries on down the hall
The bartender while wiping the counter yells
"Last call"
And they'll retort "for what reason"
And he "none at all"
Then the bar goes the way of the shopping mall
And summer slips effortlessly into fall

What reasons can they make when the night is through
When it's time to wake what will they do

As the days retreat with their hairline
And each mirror more distortive than the last
They'll retreat further, further into their mind
And what will they find
With their sanity fleeting fast
A desperate thought floating in the breeze
A candle to thaw the freeze


Intoxicated nights of solemn solitude
Tucked in the back thoughts of a lonely suburb
Trying arduously to abandon actuality
But failing and jumping the curb

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces
"Sorry love they're not home I'm afraid"
"They've gone to the races"
Each two lovers in two different places

Rest assured rest assured they'll return
They'll unconsciously sell their freedom
Rest assured rest assured they'll return
At this moment they are Carpe Diem

Rest assured rest assured
They'll be plenty of time
To fumble with furniture
Plenty of time
To spend with her
Plenty of time to waste
Plenty of love to give
Now's to go slow not make haste
Now's to go slow and live


And they'll remember childhood
As a warm August kiss
And where their feet stood
And what they missed
And when the leaves
Upon the trees
Fall down down down
To rise to their knees
They'll remember who they are
And who they use to be


So, before you grow old
And wilt away
And the December cold
Melts the summer’s day
Enjoy what you have
For what you have is to enjoy
For what you haven't
Are merely foolish toys

This summer began as the last one did
And will end when Autumn bids
With the sun and stars above for you to see
Run around like children in the heat of lunacy
...


Though I've fasted and wept,
Wept and prayed
And stayed stoic long
Through passing day
And bards’ men song
I can never,
Never truly say
I have achieved arête

No, I'm not the son of Xanthippus
Who instigated the apogee of Athens
The past beacons of Atticus
Dims my own ember passions

Though I've loved and lost
Loved and lusted
Won a few
Others busted
Though I've seen the world at the needle point,
With all the sordid souls suffering
I've lived like Cummings
The farthest extent of emotions
I've kept a drug induced devotion
But never could I stop from wondering
Never could cease sundering

I've seen the valleys of my life
Where the flowers are disseminated like t.v. static
And the only sound a high tinnitus pitch
They've said go, Go I don't love you anymore
Not pretty enough to be a poem
Not intelligent enough to be of any use

Though I've smiled and agreed
Agreed and died
Through all this hell
I have tried
...



They're troubled tonight
Their restless gaze fails to penetrate the maw of a darkened window-

To have
To have not

To operate in the probity of normality
To practice trembling sobriety
To lose an arm for the ones you love
To have in heart the morning dove,

Assures that come evening tide
Through shroud and delusion
Secrets the world shall confide
And lift your illusion
...

The very next morning
Or so it would seem
Awoke the old men
Rendering a dream

Patiently focusing
For a clearer account
The words from the past
They seemed to mount
And as they pressed closer
Not to be deterred
It crested their mind
And then they heard

"Soured metal, rotted walls
Darkness hangs from hall to hall
Broken bonds burning ambitions
A feeling half held until fruition

Life a moment
A last choking breath
Happiness a second
Before eternal death

We exist only
In the time between
A hint of joy
Goes often unseen

Until again
The crest breaks
And life slips by
But leaves no wake

Such was the tale
Of the great eluder
A hidden knife
A dark intruder

A ****** thorn
Upon the rose
A heap of sand
At the toes

Left undone
The last request
Above the head
The water crest"

Intolerable mornings of required communion
Accompanied with formulated phrases
Men limp from church
Their mind wondering
Far from there
To their childhood breakfast table
Breathing the memory becomes stable
They hold on to it as long as they are able
Plates of porcelain
Decorate the wall
Floral patterns swirling to the center
Across the room mother enters
The image wavers and ripples like water disturbed by a pebble
"Honey set the table
Get the biscuits, gravy, ladle."
Set the trays down equal from the middle, a cup to the left, forks and knifes to the right-
Get those filthy boon dockers off my floor and out of sight
Go get your brother without causing a fight
BREAKFAST TIME
Rise and shine on the biscuit line
BREAKFAST TIME
The sun is up and shining
The coffee is on and the bacon frying"

The memory dissipated into a fleecy cloud.
It hangs heavy on their heads.
Remnants of yesterday remembered in indignation
When slipping off to bed.

I'm in the December of my days
And stuck fast in my stubborn ways
If only I could grasp youth for longer
If only my frail body were stronger

If only I were confronted again with every last myriad encounter where I chose reticence
Opposed to openness
My martial mind refuses any peacefulness
Perhaps the reason of my restlessness
...

Shaking off the foreboding dream
A distant luminary seemed to gleam
An old man frail but proud
He spoke a poetic oration aloud

"My head is swollen, my mind it wanders
My tongue is twisted stumbling it stutters
My thoughts are lost in the colliding clutter
My meaning is lost under soft mutters

My smile shields my solemnness
My eyes reveal my weariness
I am a man of little happiness
But refuse to possess helplessness

I am as I decree
An old man wrapped in misery
But not one broken to submission
Just one in a transition

I have tasted the bitters of love
Witnessed the horrors of death
I have choked my linen dove
To its final breath

No, I am not a careless senior
Full of content
Shriveled in demeanor
Mind absent

I'm dying not dead
No resolving to expiration
Living instead
No meeting expectation
No bowing my head

In credence I say
I'm living for today

No consideration for tomorrow
No more drowning in sorrow"

...


The day was overcast
Fitting the mood
Black suits stood in formation
While the lucky ones heaved their load.

"He was not an exceptional man

Not one of great worth
No wife, no kids, no friends.

To an outside eye it would seem as a waste
And maybe it was
But that's the nature of things to end abruptly
On a minor note"
Written by
Tyler A. Sullivan
Jan 2018 · 160
Untitled 49
Tyler A Sullivan Jan 2018
Though I've fasted and wept,
Wept and prayed
And stayed stoic long
Through passing day
And bard men song
I can never,
Never truly say
I have achieved arête

With clunky meter
And rhythms wrong
With stumbling stanzas
And rambling on
I must confess
My souls intent.
My fear,
To be regarded as
Just decent

No I'm not the son of Xanthippus
Who instigated the apogee of Athens
The past beacons of Atticus
Dims my own ember passions

Though I've loved and lost
Loved and lusted
Won a few
Others busted
Though I've seen the world at the needle point,
With all the sordid souls suffering
I've lived like Cummings
The farthest extent of emotions
I've kept a drug induced devotion
But never could I stop from wondering
Never could cease sundering

I've seen the valleys of my life
Where the flowers are disseminated like t.v. static
And the only sound a high tinnitus pitch
I've said go, Go I don't love you anymore
Not pretty enough to be a poem
Not intelligent enough to be of any use

I've drank with old lost men, dreamers, sloths, faux intellectuals, and conniving *****.
I've seen them carefully explain their situation
And hope for their future.

Though I've smiled and agreed
Agreed and died
Through all this hell
I have tried
Nov 2017 · 353
For her
Tyler A Sullivan Nov 2017
What fortune is more cursed
Than a lover black of heart
What flower more odious
Than a lovers stall to start

What animal least prepared
For the loss of love
Than the petty man
And his dying dove

What tale more sour
Than the story of man and wife
What play more dramatic
Than this farse of a life

What animal least prepared
For the loss of love
Than the petty man
And his dying dove

What Destiny more doomed
Than me and Rose
What option least fitting
Than the one she chose

What animal least prepared
For the loss of life
Than the broken man
And his endless strife
Oct 2017 · 153
Untitled 47
Tyler A Sullivan Oct 2017
The day will come, it'll come for you
Deliverance will see, will see you through
You'll feel the wind come over the mountain
And here then birds chirping for you

The evening will set, it'll set for you
The sky will fade, it'll burn through
You'll watch the sky grow dark at twilight
And the earth will grow cold for you

The Night will come, it'll come for you
Deliverance will see, will see you through
You'll drink the water from the crescent fountain
And the stars will twinkle for you.
Oct 2017 · 125
Untitled 46
Tyler A Sullivan Oct 2017
Sensation, sensation,
A new condition
Sensation, sensation,
A lovely addiction

Have you seen the soaring greens twitching upon the air,
Have you seen the way the light plays off a descending stair,

Have you seen the angular portals of light,
Where the birds go to and fro,
Where the ones I know come and go,
Where a shade is brought up and low,
To alter the intensity of the shining,
To refract a golden lining,
To warm my soft repining,
To leave me faintly smiling.

Sensation, sensation
It's appreciation
For what we feel
The taste
In our meals
The vision
In our eyes
Of intermittent
Missouri skies
Aug 2017 · 906
Turn of the Season
Tyler A Sullivan Aug 2017
TURN OF THE SEASON

For Friends and Family


Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while he may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.
                                          -Robert Herrick

Intoxicated nights of orange halogen lights-
Illuminating through misty blown water.
As the April breeze ruffles the newly sprung leafs-
Upon the trees,
Men pour malted liquor inside clandestine-
Cellars of tuxedo staff and obsequious waitresses

Echoes of an engine shuffles on down the alley,
Startled it hides in the cornered places.
Men enclosed in smoke talk of day of old-
And better times,
And many men before and after grasp the image-
Of their obscured faces.

Woman go about chatting of useless things and waste the night away.
Men sit about playing games of little meaning and waste the night away.
Both will head to familiar places at mornings first rays
And April effortlessly falls into May

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces
Slowly trudging through the paces
Slowly they tighten their laces

And set out for another monotony dipped day

Planting their ears to the ground listening
And many things they'll hear and say
With many hindsight memories in their mind glistening
And their lovers will whisper are you listening
And they'll say "yes yes my dear have no fear I am here"

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces
And they'll make  many a plans and in cases
And step over cracks in fear of dark places


The clink of a glass Carey's on down the hall
The bartender while wiping the counter yells
"Last call"
And they'll retort "for what reason"
And he "none at all"
Then the bar goes the way of the shopping mall
And summer slips effortlessly into fall

What reasons can they make when the night is through
When it's time to wake what will they do

As the days retreat with their hairline
And each mirror more destortive than the last
They'll retreat further, further into their mind
And what will they find
With their sanity fleeting fast
A desperate thought floating in the breeze
A candle to thaw the freeze


Intoxicated nights of solemn solitude
Tucked in the back thoughts of a lonely suburb
Trying arduously to abandon actuality
But failing and jumping the curb

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces
"Sorry love they're not home I'm afraid"
"They've gone to the races"
Each two lovers in two different places

Rest assured rest assured they'll return
They'll unconsciously sell their freedom
Rest assured rest assured they'll return
At this moment they are carpe diem

Rest assured rest assured
They'll be plenty of time
To fumble with furniture
Plenty of time
To spend with her
Plenty of time To waste
Plenty of love to give
Now's to go slow not make haste
Now's to go slow and live


And they'll remember childhood
As a warm August kiss
And where their feet stood
And what they missed
And when the leafs
Upon the trees
Fall down down down
To rise to their knees
They'll remember who they are
And who they use to be


So before you grow old
And wilt away
And the December cold
Melts the summers day
Enjoy what you have
For what you have is to enjoy
For what you haven't
Are merely foolish toys

This summer began as the last one did
And will end when Autumn bids
With the sun and stars above for you to see
Run around like children in the heat of lunacy
Aug 2017 · 162
Untitled 44
Tyler A Sullivan Aug 2017
I saw a vision of you today;
You've grown fat,
You stood in paternal protection over a little semblance of your own:
A little girl,
With a toothy smirk.
You appeared content
With what you received, from what you expected.
The world was never large enough to contain your desire for experience.
You would never have settled in a suburb, in a small town, in an idyllic situation.
The vision of you drips and distorts to the distant fallow lands have your life,
Sewed, but never harvested,
Never asked the overwhelming question,
"Oh do not ask 'what is it', let us go and make our visit"
The vision of you abruptly bustled, then faded into indeterminate placidity.
Possible past
Launch you into
Hazy futures
Jul 2017 · 204
Untitled 43
Tyler A Sullivan Jul 2017
My head is swollen, my mind it wanders
My tongue is twisted stumbling it stutters
My thoughts are lost in the colliding clutter
My meaning is lost under soft mutters

My smile shields my solemness
My eyes reveal my weariness
My stubborn manner refuses any helplessness
I am a man of a little happiness
Jun 2017 · 191
Untitled 42
Tyler A Sullivan Jun 2017
A man is as only as good as his own two hands
A maple only as tall as the oak will allow
The crop the same as the planted land
A thirst still quenched by a creek bed shallow
A sole as sturdy as the cobblers touch
These facts are universal truths
The rope will give if the loads to much
A throne without man is just a booth
Jun 2017 · 205
Untitled 41
Tyler A Sullivan Jun 2017
There is a forgotten area
Where I call home
An unincorporated community
Founded to find flint stone
And like the Flintstones
We live in the past
Flashing to the water
Our lines we cast
Far back when church was the fad
And people toghther spoke
A community of lads
And decent folk

Oh the good times we had
Back in the day
The faster the water way
Is said 'round here
The less the water will be clear
Isn't that dear
An old country chestnut
One mirroring the community
All the surrounding suburbs
Love in unity

We love to be flown over
We don't mind at all
Less the people
Less the shopping malls

We love our oak lined streets
Back woods and hidden retreats
Maple, cedar, and walnut too
Oh so many a country tree for me and you

We insist to be forgotten it's true
The heartland alone with the morning dew
The people in the afternoon alone with nothing to do
Jun 2017 · 208
Untitled 40
Tyler A Sullivan Jun 2017
Sweet Sara sweet Sara will silken sauve
Comes and lounges in my sundry garden.
Her hair a chestnut tree her eyes set in mauve,
Many a story we utter together of battles and royal pardons.
And grow old with the fleeting summers day,
And sink satisfied to slumber certain for tomorrow,
There will be another afternoon with more to say,
And the world set fixed in its ways will never move to sorrow.
Sweet Sara sweet Sara speaks wonderful words,
And spends her time with me, another lives mystery,
Hath once again struck in me a chord,
And hath set aflame my misery.

My garden shall grow old and wilt away,
But her beauty, aged and refined shall stay.
Jun 2017 · 237
Untitled 39
Tyler A Sullivan Jun 2017
Fall from the sky in endless torrents
Shatter the shelter that stood dormant
Clouds gather above, as does the water below
Channeling rivers with palpitating flows
When the rain has stopped and clouds dispersed
I will be the one who hopes for rain first
Jun 2017 · 205
Untitled 38
Tyler A Sullivan Jun 2017
I've this guitar,
That I really never learned to play
I've all these words
But just don't know what to say

So if I sung you a song
Or played you a tune
It wouldn't be long
'tell you called me a buffoon

So I read another mans verse
Because mines not as expressive
Yes I read another mans song
Because mines not as impressive
Jun 2017 · 186
Untitled 37
Tyler A Sullivan Jun 2017
Black was night
And black the heart I held in my hands-
Silence washed over the land as the last echoes
From a stifled scream faded into the trees-
A raven pecked and pierced the petrified remains
Heat dissipated in slow spiraling wisp of steam from the heart
The flesh is rugged and rotten but the heart healthy
In all but hue-
What has been done
What have I done
An ebony figured behind shifted
I whisper "who's there"
It says "I've know you from before you were born"
"Could it be"
I looked into its eyes and couldn't see to see
Black was the heart
And black the soul
Black was the night
That the devil stole
Jun 2017 · 201
Untitled 36
Tyler A Sullivan Jun 2017
Have you seen the Missouri
-the way the water runs
-how the surface reflects a thousand Sun's
-a sight that truly stuns
Have you seen the water roar with fury
-have you mingled in the mist
-have tasted mornings first kiss
-oh The things my heart list
About the mightiest Missouri
Jun 2017 · 163
Untitled 35
Tyler A Sullivan Jun 2017
A golden Apple
A promised land
A ****** thorn
A knife in hand
A man of God
Can barely stand

A lonely Shepard
A Wealthy devil
In money each
Both will revel
Jun 2017 · 193
Untitled 34
Tyler A Sullivan Jun 2017
Forever shall I be true
And do only what you would do
A mirror shall I be
Reflecting only thee
Your wants will wake me wherever I sleep
Over mountain, over sky shall I leap
To stand by your side waiting for command
Adhering to your every demand
I shall cast down my petty ways
And meekly crawl through clouded days
Just to please you my dear
Just to cope with my fear
Just until death draws near
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