Call me raven
for I am sensitive
to human persecution.
I'll run away from man
and hide in the wilderness.
Call me crow
for I mock man.
I thrived on his sociality.
I laugh at his face
and at his impotent attempts
to **** me.
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
I drank in dark water
and my soul blackened.
I have been baptized
by darkness.
My eyes shed
the blindness
and now I see.
Demons surround us,
they rule the world,
there is no escape.
They control the direction
of the winds,
they control the world.
They feed us lies
and we call them philosophies.
They entered our minds
and our hearts
and we called them gods.
They offer us happiness
but no tomorrows.
We gave them love
but they don't give love back.
They keep us
in chains
made of fears and superstitions.
They made us
their slaves
but some of use are too dumb,
blind to see.
We are sheep
going to the slaughter,
willingly.
We say, we are on top of
the food chain
but they are above us,
demons love to feed
on us.
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 11:34 AM UTC
Poetry is
philosophy.
Poetry is the
poet's philosophy.
A poet lives by
a poetic philosophy.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 10:34 PM UTC
He loves to study
astronomy,
she has a heavenly body,
he likes to look at her through
his telescope.
She wants him to open his heart,
He wants her to open
her legs.
He gropes her
like lost in the dark
and she feels his body
like feeling her way
out of a black hole.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC
The feel of paper
the touch of hardcover
the ink kissing
the paper.
Paper feel skin.
Scratch by
pen-claws
Ink bleed blood.
Hide behind hard
cover.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 10:31 PM UTC
Everyone wants to go to heaven
but no one wants to follow the God's rules.
Children wanted to be in the house
but no one wants to follow the Father's rules.
There's a key to heaven
but everyone would
rather pick the lock.
Everyone wants to go to heaven
but they don't know who's heaven
or which rules to follow.
Everyone wants
to go to heaven
but don't know
which one that
they want to go to.
If they make
their own rules---
does heaven acknowledge them?
Everyone wants to play the game
but don't want to play by the rules.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
Spring
makes me happy,
Summer
makes me feel
all warm inside,
Fall
makes me sad,
Winter
makes me sleep.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 10:23 PM UTC
Emotions
are the poet's
master.
Emotions
are the artist's
tools.
Emotions
are the writer's
best friend.
Emotions sway
colors.
Emotions
are the musician's
soul.
Emotions
are the poet's
God.
Emotions
are the poet's
muse.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 10:21 PM UTC
Why is it that
poets are loners.
Why is it that
artists are outcast.
Why is it that writers are
hated.
Maybe the world
notices that they are
different.
And they hated them
for it.
That's why they shunned them.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 10:20 PM UTC
We are never alone
for God is always
with us.
Don't you hear,
listen to the silence,
you can hear a whisper,
that's God's voice.
Don't you feel
his hand on your shoulders,
that's God.
You are never alone.
For God is with you.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 10:17 PM UTC