joel-paul-beers - Hello Poetry

My dry mouth full of flames , Bleeding cheeks all the same. A brain without oxygen, hardly a hallucination. A dream without sleep Gives Pins and needles to my Ghost feet. I'm listening to the Silence With half an ear. A presence between the wall creeks The patterns of the season My bed is the hallway between today and tomorrow Yesterday and Today

0

Feb 17, 2017

Feb 17, 2017 at 2:51 AM UTC

Good morning

My dry mouth full of flames , Bleeding cheeks all the same. A brain without oxygen, hardly a hallucination. A dream without sleep Gives Pins and needles to my Ghost feet. I'm listening to the Silence With half an ear. A presence between the wall creeks The patterns of the season My bed is the hallway between today and tomorrow Yesterday and Today

11

I’ve got something on the tip of my tongue, something Young Salty and neat. You can have the diabetic eye candy or be well fed with soul food, Just don’t drink the kool-aid.

0

Nov 6, 2016

Nov 6, 2016 at 6:50 PM UTC

Anna

I’ve got something on the tip of my tongue, something Young Salty and neat. You can have the diabetic eye candy or be well fed with soul food, Just don’t drink the kool-aid.

6

I would’nt know what to say to that girl, I’d just give her a roll of duct tape and a coat hanger That mug can sink a thousand ship

0

Nov 6, 2016

Nov 6, 2016 at 6:21 PM UTC

Bee-Man

I would’nt know what to say to that girl, I’d just give her a roll of duct tape and a coat hanger That mug can sink a thousand ship

2

Stop Fighting The moment now its gone I’ve watched it pass away so nonchalantly Always waiting for another day. Am I supposed to feel something? what am i supposed to say, does it matter any way? its all so cliche… There is me and all the things the worlds told me to be, not the same thing. So suggestive and fleeting… Why am I fighting ? I was One-Two-Thirty Six It happened so quick, Did I miss it or is this it?

0

Feb 20, 2016

Feb 20, 2016 at 9:14 PM UTC

Stop Fighting it

Stop Fighting The moment now its gone I’ve watched it pass away so nonchalantly Always waiting for another day. Am I supposed to feel something? what am i supposed to say, does it matter any way? its all so cliche… There is me and all the things the worlds told me to be, not the same thing. So suggestive and fleeting… Why am I fighting ? I was One-Two-Thirty Six It happened so quick, Did I miss it or is this it?

16

Stomach pains directly connected to the interwoven circuits that are Wondering, hoping. Stopping at blind corners Questioning the soul... A potion of acid and cactus forms Transformative contributions. Catching up because you woke up to late. Now it's to late; so late that your building a statue to remember the good you see in others. The universe is penetrating everything at the same time it's being penetrated while we all wonder what is happening? What does this all mean? Why are we here? Everything is ***** and a ****** everyone is ******* everyone and everything and everyone and everything is being ****** at the same time... Nobody gets it while the soul is in the body. By the time the true soul leaves the said body you fools will build a statue of this body that no longer has a soul.

0

Feb 12, 2016

Feb 12, 2016 at 12:40 PM UTC

Poetic ***********

Stomach pains directly connected to the interwoven circuits that are Wondering, hoping. Stopping at blind corners Questioning the soul... A potion of acid and cactus forms Transformative contributions. Catching up because you woke up to late. Now it's to late; so late that your building a statue to remember the good you see in others. The universe is penetrating everything at the same time it's being penetrated while we all wonder what is happening? What does this all mean? Why are we here? Everything is ***** and a ****** everyone is ******* everyone and everything and everyone and everything is being ****** at the same time... Nobody gets it while the soul is in the body. By the time the true soul leaves the said body you fools will build a statue of this body that no longer has a soul.

14

So much for an omen so much for heart to heart A vision so abortive blinded by eyes unable to sing out of mystery Sometimes the mysteries Anxiety weight mass wait as in anticipate move or be crushed impending the bloom of a flower already to soon

0

Feb 3, 2016

Feb 3, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC

Behold the Overman

So much for an omen so much for heart to heart A vision so abortive blinded by eyes unable to sing out of mystery Sometimes the mysteries Anxiety weight mass wait as in anticipate move or be crushed impending the bloom of a flower already to soon

17

Go away sun Let the rain run The thunder will be done when it's done Let the storm form Puddles that will Flood and spill Like the blood Of spring.

0

Jan 31, 2016

Jan 31, 2016 at 7:01 PM UTC

Over slept

Go away sun Let the rain run The thunder will be done when it's done Let the storm form Puddles that will Flood and spill Like the blood Of spring.

8

Loneliness worn on our sleeve From opened wounds to Thinned skinned scars Lights out , Jealous again of this deadbeat sin that has stolen hours after hours to only leave us with an unproductive taste in our veins. Sore shoulders sour with neck pains that has scratched our throats dry. Weaved chest pains bled out, Do we have to go over it again and again.

0

Jan 30, 2016

Jan 30, 2016 at 8:16 PM UTC

A painful secret

Loneliness worn on our sleeve From opened wounds to Thinned skinned scars Lights out , Jealous again of this deadbeat sin that has stolen hours after hours to only leave us with an unproductive taste in our veins. Sore shoulders sour with neck pains that has scratched our throats dry. Weaved chest pains bled out, Do we have to go over it again and again.

9

I Woke up with the words of this poem whispering on my lips, It was a cold January morning within the pomegranate trees. The storm had passed two days now. There was a forecast of Screaming with chance of tears. The Clouds had been Clumped together. They had appeared compressed and so close that Less light reflected upon them. what revealed to be a visible mass had in actuality divided and turned black, stricken with lightning.

0

Jan 24, 2016

Jan 24, 2016 at 10:39 PM UTC

Reunion

I Woke up with the words of this poem whispering on my lips, It was a cold January morning within the pomegranate trees. The storm had passed two days now. There was a forecast of Screaming with chance of tears. The Clouds had been Clumped together. They had appeared compressed and so close that Less light reflected upon them. what revealed to be a visible mass had in actuality divided and turned black, stricken with lightning.

6

Please Out of the gutter where we discovered true love Please don't steal from me Let me show you how to do laundry Let's stray from the microwave and boil an egg Those dishes ain't gonna clean themselves Everything has its place on the shelf Please nurture my insecurity When your near me The Cobb webs in the corner will secure our days The moths will notify our lethargy Just don't ever leave me Did I stutter?

0

Jan 23, 2016

Jan 23, 2016 at 2:58 AM UTC

Please

Please Out of the gutter where we discovered true love Please don't steal from me Let me show you how to do laundry Let's stray from the microwave and boil an egg Those dishes ain't gonna clean themselves Everything has its place on the shelf Please nurture my insecurity When your near me The Cobb webs in the corner will secure our days The moths will notify our lethargy Just don't ever leave me Did I stutter?

13