What if I told you of a girl with eyes as deep as the ocean
The most beautiful ones you're liable to see
Whose hair and whose eyes
Share the stunning blue of the sea
What if I told you that she gave a chance
To a monster like me
That through the darkness inside
There was a beauty she could see
What if I told you she was beautiful in every way
That she was perfect as perfect could be
From her smile to her laugh, the way she fell asleep
Curled up in my arms, clutching tight to me
What if I told you I lost it all
Because of a night of darkness she could see
And that what scared me the most
Is thinking we may never again be
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 11:34 AM UTC
Love her like
She's the raging sea,
Unrestrained and dark and deep.
And you crave her touch
Through aching pores
As you slowly drown in sleep.
Love her like
She's the tender storm,
A lovely shade of grey.
Like with every whiff
Of breath she takes,
She's taking yours away.
Love her like
She's the silent clouds
With calmness floating by.
Like you'd want to make
Sweet love to her
Under the moon's apocalyptic eye.
Love her like
She's the blazing fire,
And you lust the candied pain.
Like she's the disease
That swallowed you whole
And you'd like to die again.
When her gentle touch
Makes your chest explode,
And your addiction is your girl.
Promise you'll love her
Through hell and back,
Or don't you dare love her at all.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 6:37 PM UTC
she was a poet,
and he was her pen.
in him,
she always found words to write,
songs to sing,
thoughts to think.
he'd smile,
and kiss her softly,
and say,
"write me a poem."
and she would.
she'd put poe,
and whitman,
and shakespeare to shame,
and she'd write a poem that made his eyes water.
she'd compare him
to a rose with no thorns,
a book with no end,
a world with no poverty --
the things we all wish for,
but can never attain.
//
he asked her one day,
"what am i?"
and so she picked up her pen,
and began the usual:
*you are the shining sun after a hurricane,
with rays that open the eyes of the blind.*
but he stopped her after those two lines,
and said that this time,
he didn't want any metaphors,
or similes,
or analogies.
he wanted the truth.
and so on that night,
as he slept,
the poet picked up her pen,
and she wrote.
she wrote,
then thought better of it,
then started over again,
and this cycle continued well into the early hours of the morning,
until suddenly,
she wrote, frantic,
*if i can't love you for what you really are,
have i ever really loved you at all?*
this, too,
she thought better of,
condemning it to the trash.
the next morning the poet was gone,
her final work a mere two words:
i'm sorry.
(a.m.)
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 11:17 AM UTC
I'm in love with someone's daughter
living in the shards of a broken home
Cutting herself on two year-old letters
These are moments she can't fake;
reasons to feel alone
So used to abuse, her tears start to shake
I hold her close as her head starts to ache
"I love you too much,
so I can't let your heart break."
She said, "I know you love me,
but you've made a mistake."
I never meant for anyone to be my pulse.
I promise not to step on your feet
if you teach me how to waltz.
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 11:37 AM UTC
*I sat down with you
In the coolness of the night air
Watching you sip Dr. Pepper
After a long day's work
I listened to the sounds of summer
Watched a few stars twinkling
In the jet colored sky
We were happily chit-chatting
About this and that
We were all together
Just us three
Oh, those summer evenings
Gone forever
Only shadows remain
Touching my heart*
~Marian~
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
Not a poem but a thought
Everything in life comes to an end, money, food, time, life itself
FriENDships end, time with lOVERs will be over, and family will pass away
Only one thing is eternal, DEATH
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 8:11 PM UTC
You are my brother, my friend, my confidant.
At times you serve as my rock, my reason to go on.
And the hard thing is to know you have to leave for Mom,
And that when I need you most you'll be gone.
But when you come home
You'll find a place beside me
And with any hope you'll find your best friend too
Where we can be young and free.
When you are away, know you aren't alone
And that we'll help you to be strong, to keep pushing on.
And when things are at their worst,
I will be here for you and for Mom.
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 4:48 AM UTC
What if I told you, with your footprints beside mine,
That with every step there was fear,
That a third set would start,
And yours would disappear.
And now I know, that erasing my set
Is the only thing I can do.
That even with all my love
I have to let you go, because it's what's best for you.
But to the end of my days my heart will be yours,
And I will always have a shoulder for you, my best friend.
To march through the pain,
Knowing you'll love him to the end.
Know that if l leave I have not abandoned you,
But simply that I know I'm not what you need,
And all I want is your pain to disappear
And for you to be freed.
So now it's my time to move on,
And time for me to be strong.
But no matter what happens or who I'm with,
I will always love you, no matter how long.
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 4:43 AM UTC
I'd give up my left arm to always be right beside her. My right arm for her to know she's what I have left and both arms to be able to hug her when's she away. I just don't think I have enough to give to get the courage to tell her when she's here.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 11:31 AM UTC
There is a forest old as hillsides
tall, majestic, dappled shades
fall on ground beneath the silent
gnarled defenders of the glade.
There they stand in ancient splendour
many souls have passed their way
often used as welcome shelter
from the heat of summers day.
Sweet the air they breathe in chorus
our life's breath their lungs provide,
soaking up our daily poison
so that we may live and thrive.
You seas of men intent to clear them
citing progress, peddling greed
tearing roots from precious mooring
laying waste to nature's seed.
**** the beauty of a landscape
displace creatures for your need
rupture fragile ecosystems
scar the earth and watch it bleed.
To you I ask a simple question,
as I see the land bereaved.
What need has man of all this progress
when he can no longer breathe?
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC