jack-touchet
American
I like writing, in general. It's something I enjoy doing, and I only ever hope that I can put my love of writing enough into my stories or poems as to affect the reader. / I write many short books / For all of you to see, please take / What you like from them.
I guess that it's easy to say
That when winter skies turn grey,
It's time for a mite bit of cuddlin',
To keep those grey skies at bay.
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 1:30 AM UTC
My heart grows colder,
Though I'm warmer for it.
I feel lost in a small bubble,
Everything around seems to crumble and fall.
My only wish,
If nothing else,
Is for you to call.
Oh,
To hear your voice,
It's like the feeling of a butterfly fluttering on your nose.
It's the feel of cold water as it falls down your throat to a longing gullet.
To feel the soft caress of your hand,
Is downy sweeping across my skin.
It's the tickle that doesn't make me jump,
It's the shiver that welcomes goosebumps.
If only,
If only,
I could simply feel your arms around me,
I would fall back-first into a pile of now broken leaves.
I once walked around our town for hours,
Trying to alleviate the thought that soon I would be gone.
It was then that I heard your voice,
That soft and delicate and loving voice.
It fluttered on my nose like a butterfly,
It brushed itself against my check,
And the sweet aroma of a single white flower growing in the yard outside my window swept gently into my nose,
Then I sneeze.
I will pick you this flower,
Once every day,
Since so many grow,
But so far apart.
If anyone has ever known how to fix this,
It was you.
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 1:13 AM UTC
Within my heart
Lies a little start.
Such a small pump
Haphazardly dumps
A plethora of feeling
From a cardiac ceiling.
A breathless trance,
A love fueled dance,
I sit staring at you.
Your skin,
So lovely in hue,
Is radiant from within.
Whatever would I do
Were I taken from you?
Lie quietly on the grass
As visions quickly begin to pass
Through a broken mind
To pass the time.
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 6:07 AM UTC
Within my heart
Lies a little start.
Such a small pump
Haphazardly dumps
A plethora of feeling
From a cardiac ceiling.
A breathless trance,
A love fueled dance,
I sit staring at you.
Your skin,
So lovely in hue,
Is radiant from within.
Whatever would I do
Were I taken from you?
Lie quietly on the grass
As visions quickly begin to pass
Through a broken mind
To pass the time.
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 6:06 AM UTC
Such sweet songs
Fall from faces full
Of open
Hearts holding hands.
Generally great groups gather
Quixotic questions,
Ponder personal perceptions,
Emulating ever entranced emotions.
Love loses leaps, leaves
Broad bruises bypassing
Catastrophically closed creations.
What wonder, what wildly whimsical
Rejoice remains?
In individualistic idioms.
As all allowed anatomical
Differences deal dictations,
Juxtaposed jesters join
Monstrous masterminds
Trivially tinkering, tryingly,
Near non-subjective nothingness
Under unusual
Vectors. Vivisecting voracious,
Zeppelin-esque, zygotes,
Xenophobic
Yodels yell,
**** **** kindheartedness!"
Mar 24, 2012
Mar 24, 2012 at 12:20 AM UTC
The air called after me,
Eyes unblinking, I answer
"For what purpose do you need me?
Of what service am I?"
Is it that I am blind and may not see?
Foresight now fills my mind.
Hindsight, though, is left far behind.
Lonesome, I set out now, divine
Is my cause so I stay in line.
But am I to continue?
Must I search for a new venue,
A different place to call my own?
It seems, for a year, or a tear, I am alone.
Mar 24, 2012
Mar 24, 2012 at 12:10 AM UTC
A sound falls from the sky,
Such a sullen sordid tune.
It makes on ponder why
A sound falls. From the sky
A bird lets out a cry;
From its sorrow you are not immune.
A sound falls from the sky,
Such a sullen, sordid, tune.
I seek out this bird,
It sounds as if an infant.
I almost feel absurd
As I seek out this bird.
Yet, I barely speak a word;
Far too ashamed to break this instant,
I seek out this bird,
It sounds almost an infant.
Mar 24, 2012
Mar 24, 2012 at 12:07 AM UTC
The wind whistles in,
I hear the howl clear.
The air is thick with sin,
As the wind whistles in,
So, safely now begin
To cherish those held dear.
While the wind whistles in,
I hear the howl clear.
So now release me, please, from fear
Of the hollow, vacant, plight.
I hear a dawn grow near,
So now release me, please, from fear.
Heartlessness becoming dear,
I've now connection with the night,
So now release me, please, from fear
Of the hollow, vacant, plight!
Mar 24, 2012
Mar 24, 2012 at 12:03 AM UTC
I feel a tug on my sweater.
The air grows dark as I,
Full of despair,
Turn my head to find what
Being is at my coattail.
I feel a tug on my sweater,
I turn as the space ahead of me
Is occupied by essence of loving magnificent person.
I turn and see the beautiful world, as a
Being, is at my coattail.
I feel a tug on my sweater
And I question her as to what she came to
ask, and she speaks to me in song.
So lovely are the words uttered from
She who is at my coattail.
So lovely are the words uttered for
Me, a desperate shrew. A hollow shroud falls over
Vacant eyes dripping empty tears onto
A careless walkway. Her serenade sing a sort of
Happy suicide into the icy veins pumping
Soft slush into my heart.
Then suddenly
A chorus arises and I am renewed,
Invigorated.
"Sing goodbye to sorrow,
Save pain for a time when you need smile.
For that pain, in it's essence,
Is only a memoir of hardship that will
Remind the hollowest of souls that
There is happiness."
That there is love.
That there is hope.
That there is wonder,
and wanderlust.
That there is reason.
Mar 23, 2012
Mar 23, 2012 at 11:58 PM UTC
Fall softly by my side,
Ask me why I feel.
Sing the sound of your heart
And learn the value of mine that you steal.
The truth begs a sort of compliance,
The false brings a sort of discord.
The night brings a sort of silence,
But tonight I sing of reward.
I follow the sound through the end
To see a destination,
I find only a cave in the forest
That is filled with desolation.
Sing solace, sing cheer;
Sing worry and fear.
A song to allure the public,
You make yourself its puppet.
Feb 10, 2012
Feb 10, 2012 at 10:32 PM UTC