You were kind and beautiful
and through the nights you remained in my mind.
please, recall you can take all your love on me,
don't decline in restless, but oh Leanna intertwine your hopes and dreams with me.
Lilly.
You have always been wild
so free so to inspire the man's conscious
and just merely leave and follow your ply.
Lilly.
And that I may turn you into literature
and through this ink spill the blued words of shame and unspoken.
Lilly.
From Ben Howard to the coffees,
and your yellow hat to your thoughts knobby,
where would I find you again? And where do I regain desire to what I make more mistakes of?
Lilly.
Is every man an island? or do the wolves shout for company?
What is a travel and curiosity? And the blessed of these in the scriptures?
What is of the nice dancing shoes?
And the late night events? Are they all ephemeral?
Less and less do I believe Leanna.
I'll pick the crumbs of yours, is better than to overflow of anything else.
Lilly,
I fell in love
I miss you
I do not know of this middle ground I live in anymore.
"'Cause I'll always remember you the same"
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 8:32 PM UTC
The misfortunate will have their revenge in the first world,
until the hammer of money is toppled and unforced,
and the overlabouring encounters empathy,
until "freedom rings" over every hill and mountain in the third section of the globe and finally
the mind of avoidance in the nature of reality outcries the devil in revelation,
until then will this retribution be forethoughted.
Will you then— my pale brother listen to the voiceless?
Would you ask and then act? Give reason to the repress?
Would you feed
and clothe
and would bathe and still loathe? And would you continue to **** me?
Would you follow the way of inferior, preposterous, unintellectual, usurious, for the sake of an elusive triumphant state?
Would you continue wearing your boots and feasting on tea,
and remembering the wars and like a hawk hunting your senseless view on humanity?
If you are my God's creation, then who am I to you?
Allow me then to say to you, that your void is to be filled with the infinite and the sublime,
and that not the earthly and mankind.
That your constitution may be molded to your heart and not you to the constitution.
And that you always capacitate yourself of feelings deeply of any injustice committed against anyone, anywhere in the world.
Because of this last one, is the most beautiful
of the internal independence, revolution, and love immutable.
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 7:22 PM UTC
Suffering is humanism
and poetry its manifesto.
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 7:22 PM UTC
Sway me into this night
Let the insomnia in our eyes lash away our love,
Interlock your toes and fingers with those which you call mine.
Where the time becomes stuck
Let me live this golden moment
Just once more- of the many.
I wouldn’t mind if your beautiful eyes would
Awake once again and undo my faults and break the door pane.
Every move you make is stunning,
Every presence of your completes me.
Your love is a bandit in disguise
Steal my love with your words of golden-hue
Wise, with a dulcet tone
Beauty and charm
Knowledge, witty
Utter belief, inscriptive poetry
And humane weakness.
Hung high in the skies I deceived my enemies,
You my armor-
You my revolution.
Subtleties of Autumn and Spring,
Your affections whisper lush
Whistles oxygen
Mumbles endearment
Mutters what I need.
But its effect are sounded magnificently
Embrace.
You pink mouth and hazel eyeshades
Gleam over my past,
Your words simmer under the vapor of tempest
And by the meadow land- this of which we own
I fall for you,
In this prohibit-pious realm,
Unbeknownst to me.
Your name implanted in my skies is all I see.
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 1:33 PM UTC