i hold the poetry within me i feel it within my bones and it burrows within my soul but i can't write and my fingers won't work. i need to speak and i need to let someone in. this is not something i can just tell with my pen.
Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 11:26 PM UTC
words drip from my lips like honey,
thick and sweet
they make my paper their own. I hold no claim
i have learned to be obedient to my words
what Word says goes, I obey.
Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 11:24 PM UTC
Your arms are wrapped around me tight
We hold each other
We hold each other
We hold each other
And then we let go, still all too soon
You look down upon my short frame
I shyly gaze up to meet your eyes
Your eyes are soft and warm
Like a home that I've been missing
A place I've longed to visit
In them, I see the future
I have dreamt for myself
I see you at my side
I see a smile on our faces
As we relax next to
The living room fireplace
I feel your large hand
Gently holding mine
I hear the chorus of your laughter
And I know
I know
That I would happily spend
My eternity
With you.
Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 11:20 PM UTC
every fiber of my being knows
that you will forever by my love.
i wonder if it's possible
for any one to love you
quite as i do.
our days draw closer to an end
and we've been saying that
we are just friends.
but i think deep down
we both know
that we were made to be lovers.
we were made to be a pair.
i found a home,
cozied next to your soul.
i know, in your arms,
everything will be alright.
in your arms i find
my own personal Promised Land.
Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 11:18 PM UTC
i am yours
and you are mine.
my soul belongs with you
until you say
you can no longer bear
my weight in your palms.
Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 11:15 PM UTC
I've got the children to tend
The clothes to mend
The floor to mop
The food to shop
Then the chicken to fry
The baby to dry
I got company to feed
The garden to ****
I've got shirts to press
The tots to dress
The can to be cut
I gotta clean up this hut
Then see about the sick
And the cotton to pick.
Shine on me, sunshine
Rain on me, rain
Fall softly, dewdrops
And cool my brow again.
Storm, blow me from here
With your fiercest wind
Let me float across the sky
'Til I can rest again.
Fall gently, snowflakes
Cover me with white
Cold icy kisses and
Let me rest tonight.
Sun, rain, curving sky
Mountain, oceans, leaf and stone
Star shine, moon glow
You're all that I can call my own.
Feb 20, 2020
Feb 20, 2020 at 11:43 PM UTC
Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
There are some millionaires
With money they can't use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They've got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Now if you listen closely
I'll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
'Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Feb 20, 2020
Feb 20, 2020 at 11:42 PM UTC
Every day you play with the light of the universe.
Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water,
You are more than this white head that I hold tightly
as a bunch of flowers, every day, between my hands.
You are like nobody since I love you.
Let me spread you out among yellow garlands.
Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south?
Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.
Suddenly the wind howls and bangs at my shut window.
The sky is a net crammed with shadowy fish.
Here all the winds let go sooner or later, all of them.
The rain takes off her clothes.
The birds go by, fleeing.
The wind. The wind.
I alone can contend against the power of men.
The storm whirls dark leaves
and turns loose all the boats that were moored last night to the sky.
You are here. Oh, you do not run away.
You will answer me to the last cry.
Curl round me as though you were frightened.
Even so, a strange shadow once ran through your eyes.
Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckle,
and even your ******* smell of it.
While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies
I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth.
How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me,
my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.
So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,
and over our heads the grey light unwinds in turning fans.
My words rained over you, stroking you.
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
Until I even believe that you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
Feb 20, 2020
Feb 20, 2020 at 11:30 PM UTC
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Feb 20, 2020
Feb 20, 2020 at 11:19 PM UTC
’Twas noontide of summer,
And midtime of night,
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, through the light
Of the brighter, cold moon.
’Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.
I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold—too cold for me—
There passed, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,
And I turned away to thee,
Proud Evening Star,
In thy glory afar
And dearer thy beam shall be;
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
And more I admire
Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.
Jan 23, 2020
Jan 23, 2020 at 11:15 PM UTC