connor-thompson
I usually just write from the heart, about life, people, truth, love, experiences, what makes us human, fantasies, worlds, and anything that pops into my non-stopping, randomly creative generating mind. There's a lot more to come! (The creepy eyes in my picture, look hard, because I have no idea what that is)
A poesy to those who earn a life of little recognition.
Beneath the fabric of the world’s tainted expectations, lies what many fail to explore, few discover and the luckiest cherish.
Blessings that cannot be traded, bought, nor sold.
A benison unable to become impoverished.
Gifts that grow and sprout delicious fruit.
A colossal heart of gold.
The hue’s of their soul glows intoxicatingly bright,
and guide those in the dark.
A benevolence whose warmth is palpable to the lives of those surrounding them,
with out a demand,
and only a thirst to love.
With unfamiliar brilliance, these people fall anonymous.
Many of the carriers unaware of what beats within.
Blind to the beautiful wake of life trailing behind their actions.
They smile as if nothing has been done, where everything has.
Their inspirational hearts, when noticed shine so much beauty, you’re left in bewilderment.
As skepticism fades, cynicism falls, hate dulls, and questions are left with answers.
As fear is replaced by freedom.
You watch the kindness ask for nothing,
as only a desire to follow remains.
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 11:24 PM UTC
Opening a book,
page one opens and I now reawake.
Leaving for adventures sake,
where fantastical creatures awake.
Legendary battles they will partake,
epic stories, they will make.
A great king will rise to power, yet he will fake,
now the lives of his people, he will forsake.
Their furies and frustrations, will oscillate, like a rattlesnake,
As the king sits upon his throne, realizing his mistake.
Oh, now he will leave behind a terrible wake,
as he will be cooked upon the stake.
Along with the witch he turned into a hotcake.
Oh, what a fate,
the king surely must hate.
As he burns to a flake,
falling to be scooped by a rake.
I must now put on the brake,
as it is getting late,
and into another day this story I must take.
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 10:14 PM UTC
Deep beneath the earth a companion flows as liquid into his soul, filling every curve, slip and crack.
86 fathoms below, a man is filled and unchained from his solitude
creating a place for the mind to swim in one infinite breath.
Swimming to the surface
Thunder roars, lightning strikes: releasing him from beneath. He climbs out.
There she stands in front, electrified. From head to toe, she inflames him, illuminating the night sky.
The man approaches, thwarted by his ambition and
left into stasis, as he watches her.
Frozen, her eyes lock onto his.
Enduring, he learns her true feeling.
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 9:13 PM UTC
Lost, yet found. The birth of her image evolves into a smile.
Generously pouring herself into my soul.
Where she dances to the rhythm of my heart,
composing every beat with her natural style.
As the kindness of her soul glows with each breath she takes,
all that is left: I am but a witness.
A witness to…. what she breathes, to what lies beneath,
a compassionate, warm-loving, blessed and able heart.
One that most dream about, some talk about and few meet.
Her thumping heart breathes into the lives around her, filling the air with joy and truth.
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 9:10 PM UTC
In a crowd she stands alone,
her beauty creeps out.
Mysterious shades of color enchain her captivating allure,
every shade more beautiful than the last.
The efflorescence of a flower fails to image her,
flawless from head to toe.
The illusion of free will quickly fades,
I cannot deny my attraction to her,
She glows.
Warming the room by her graceful movements,
clocks slow, each second delights in her every twirl.
Tick. Toc.
Her look sets me at ease.
Freeing me from my uncertainty, I now clench belief close to my heart,
summoned by a dream with every beat.
I am left in a daydream,
As, she is gone…
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 10:02 PM UTC
Bound to the imagery of an insensible consolation
As a dock waits for a ship never to come
are the senseless chains which bind agony to the soul
Only the Sensational allure of a compass placed within the center, may loosen the mind’s heart from the chains binding it to the dock.
A compass who’s needle always points to the heart.
& posses the strength needed to stand alone.
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 9:58 PM UTC
The Rock Who Loves You:
As obscurity clouds, rays of light shine on my face.
Thoughts of your love to return to me. Return to:
Where you belong, in my arms.
Where you belong, in my heart.
Where you belong, by my side.
Where you belong, holding my hand.
Bewilderment grips me every time you disappear.
Why are you not here?
I want to hold you again,
feel your warmth, notice your breath,
listen to your giggles.
I want to show you it’s going to be okay.
O.K.? **** It’s going to be just swell, just awesome, & just wonderful.
Why?
I am your strength, your rock, your love & your heart.
Within me you beat,
I want to come home after work and feel your love, watch it grow for me, efflorescence & expand.
I want to watch your wings wave in the wind, knowing you’re my angel.
Feeling their gentle breeze as it cools me in the heat.
Where are you? I love you. I want you to come home where you belong resting in my arms, offering your smile, knowing I am your strength, your rock, and your unchanging, steady stream.
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 6:29 PM UTC