joflo82 - Hello Poetry

Once we ran with freedom Our hearts floating in the sky. Love fell abundantly. Drenching you and I. Boom! A selfish thunderburst... Lightning on the scape. Our love once bedewed... Gone without a trace. Sunshine can't conceal... My swollen cirrius pain. Nor the slicing breezes... Slivering the rain. Life devoid of nature. Sunbeams lack the reach. Indoors. Life in a tiny cell. Reinforced with steel. Heavy dungeon door. Bars made out of tears. Melodramatic dreams. Stir an exotic drink. Making love on my cot. Beside the stainless sink. Life without parole. Without your tender touch. Love in the first degree. Now I never see you much. Will you visit me? You are my lonely prison... My emotional cocoon. Your love a distant thunderburst... Far beyond the moon. You are the pin-up girl... Pasted on my wall. You are my prison warden... Life's not fair at all.

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Jun 14, 2018

Jun 14, 2018 at 6:48 PM UTC

joflo82

Doing Life

Once we ran with freedom Our hearts floating in the sky. Love fell abundantly. Drenching you and I. Boom! A selfish thunderburst... Lightning on the scape. Our love once bedewed... Gone without a trace. Sunshine can't conceal... My swollen cirrius pain. Nor the slicing breezes... Slivering the rain. Life devoid of nature. Sunbeams lack the reach. Indoors. Life in a tiny cell. Reinforced with steel. Heavy dungeon door. Bars made out of tears. Melodramatic dreams. Stir an exotic drink. Making love on my cot. Beside the stainless sink. Life without parole. Without your tender touch. Love in the first degree. Now I never see you much. Will you visit me? You are my lonely prison... My emotional cocoon. Your love a distant thunderburst... Far beyond the moon. You are the pin-up girl... Pasted on my wall. You are my prison warden... Life's not fair at all.

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I can question the unknown. Do you remember me? I can't remember the memories of my own destiny. But I remember you.

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Jun 14, 2018

Jun 14, 2018 at 3:27 AM UTC

joflo82

I Can and I Can't

I can question the unknown. Do you remember me? I can't remember the memories of my own destiny. But I remember you.

4

9 to 5 I can't quit... Cause I'm not dead yet. Take my corpse...and Pour gravy over it. Who poured grey paint over the dingy walls? Its dead, drab grey covered the lifeless faces... Of each and every waitress. Burning the eggs... I wonder... Is this where mediocrity comes to work itself to death? As I stare into the fire. The same fire tamed by man a million years before fast food.... The same fire that fueled our modern world.... The same fire that burned in our hearts when we fall in love.... The same fire that shines in your eyes. The same fire that burned two cities in Japan... The same fire that burned the books in **** Germany... The same fire that burned the eggs... The same fire in my heart you extingushed when you quit the restaurant and said goodbye to my love devoted to you. Dead end jobs, love and lives... God giveth and he taketh away. Can I be smothered in gravy today?

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Jun 14, 2018

Jun 14, 2018 at 2:57 AM UTC

joflo82

The Fire That Burned the Eggs

9 to 5 I can't quit... Cause I'm not dead yet. Take my corpse...and Pour gravy over it. Who poured grey paint over the dingy walls? Its dead, drab grey covered the lifeless faces... Of each and every waitress. Burning the eggs... I wonder... Is this where mediocrity comes to work itself to death? As I stare into the fire. The same fire tamed by man a million years before fast food.... The same fire that fueled our modern world.... The same fire that burned in our hearts when we fall in love.... The same fire that shines in your eyes. The same fire that burned two cities in Japan... The same fire that burned the books in **** Germany... The same fire that burned the eggs... The same fire in my heart you extingushed when you quit the restaurant and said goodbye to my love devoted to you. Dead end jobs, love and lives... God giveth and he taketh away. Can I be smothered in gravy today?

23

Brisk winds fly... Slice the sunshine rise. Mild the morning. An old man... Opens his eyes and jumps out of bed... Thinking...."Has it been a week?" His hands calloused and sore... Still, he thanks the Lord... For his Sunday toil. Energized... He dresses quickly... And he opens the door. Steps outside... Scans the countryside... Dips his tobacco. Begins with a stride... A journey far and wide... Into the city. Birds sing their morning song... He whistles along... With a skip in his step. Approaching the city... He sees the bustling people... Comes to a church and goes to the steeple. Spits his tobacco... He enters the the tower Before the 900 o'clock hour. As dark as the pitch... Without a hitch... He ascends the stairs. At the silent bells... He grabs the heavy rope and watches the time... At 9:00, he arches his back, and tugs on the line. He feeds a rapid reel... Steel on steel... Sets the rythym. His muscles create... Beautiful songs... Every hour all day long. Watching the time.. He straightens his back and releases the line... At 600 o'clock sharp. The slowing reel... Softens the rythym... Until the bells go silent. At the end of the day... The "Old Man Coil" Thanks the Lord for his Sunday toil He descends the stairs... Without a hitch... Outside its dark as the pitch... He exits the tower... Scans the city scape.... Dips his tobacco. Leaving the steeple... He sees fewer people... As he approaches the country. No birds are out whistling songs... Aching back but he trudges along... No pep in his step. On last stride... Ends his journey far and wide... Back to the country. Spits his tobacco... Scans the countryside... Opens his door. He steps inside... Slowly undresses... In total exhaustion. His hands bleeding and blistered... But in a kindly whisper... He thanks the Lord for his Sunday toil. The old man... Jumps into bed... And closes his eyes to sleep... Until the following week. Brisk winds slice... The starshine rise... Mild the evening.

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Jun 14, 2018

Jun 14, 2018 at 1:40 AM UTC

joflo82

Sunday Toil

Brisk winds fly... Slice the sunshine rise. Mild the morning. An old man... Opens his eyes and jumps out of bed... Thinking...."Has it been a week?" His hands calloused and sore... Still, he thanks the Lord... For his Sunday toil. Energized... He dresses quickly... And he opens the door. Steps outside... Scans the countryside... Dips his tobacco. Begins with a stride... A journey far and wide... Into the city. Birds sing their morning song... He whistles along... With a skip in his step. Approaching the city... He sees the bustling people... Comes to a church and goes to the steeple. Spits his tobacco... He enters the the tower Before the 900 o'clock hour. As dark as the pitch... Without a hitch... He ascends the stairs. At the silent bells... He grabs the heavy rope and watches the time... At 9:00, he arches his back, and tugs on the line. He feeds a rapid reel... Steel on steel... Sets the rythym. His muscles create... Beautiful songs... Every hour all day long. Watching the time.. He straightens his back and releases the line... At 600 o'clock sharp. The slowing reel... Softens the rythym... Until the bells go silent. At the end of the day... The "Old Man Coil" Thanks the Lord for his Sunday toil He descends the stairs... Without a hitch... Outside its dark as the pitch... He exits the tower... Scans the city scape.... Dips his tobacco. Leaving the steeple... He sees fewer people... As he approaches the country. No birds are out whistling songs... Aching back but he trudges along... No pep in his step. On last stride... Ends his journey far and wide... Back to the country. Spits his tobacco... Scans the countryside... Opens his door. He steps inside... Slowly undresses... In total exhaustion. His hands bleeding and blistered... But in a kindly whisper... He thanks the Lord for his Sunday toil. The old man... Jumps into bed... And closes his eyes to sleep... Until the following week. Brisk winds slice... The starshine rise... Mild the evening.

79

Today she recieved ~ A shiny ring ~ From her special man. Instead of showing off her ring ~ She bowed her head and cried. Though her tears shed heavy ~ And trickled the long day through~ One never fell in happiness ~ Nor joy. Nor thankfulness. She cried because ~ She couldn't show the shiny ring ~ To her mom and dad. Or her family ~ Or her siblings ~ Nor all the friends she had. She didnt want the shiny ring at all ~ But couldn't give it back. And if she could ~ It would only make him mad. How could a shiny ring of gold ~ Placed around her finger ~ Make her want to cry? You see, he never set ~ A shiny ring of gold ~ Around her finger. He gave her a shiny ~ Purple ring ~ And he put it around her eye.

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Jun 10, 2018

Jun 10, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC

joflo82

A Shiny Ring

Today she recieved ~ A shiny ring ~ From her special man. Instead of showing off her ring ~ She bowed her head and cried. Though her tears shed heavy ~ And trickled the long day through~ One never fell in happiness ~ Nor joy. Nor thankfulness. She cried because ~ She couldn't show the shiny ring ~ To her mom and dad. Or her family ~ Or her siblings ~ Nor all the friends she had. She didnt want the shiny ring at all ~ But couldn't give it back. And if she could ~ It would only make him mad. How could a shiny ring of gold ~ Placed around her finger ~ Make her want to cry? You see, he never set ~ A shiny ring of gold ~ Around her finger. He gave her a shiny ~ Purple ring ~ And he put it around her eye.

29

Motoring. Listlessly. Evening crawl. Halogen blue-blur. Spit-shines clear. The asphalt highway. That goes no where. Solemn moon. Pale and dull. Leans against the rock people. Walking the desert. In disguise. Quiet winds. Deaf and aphasic. Feed the alluvial ribbons. That perch the stoic. Introverted. Black Apache elevations. Cliffs of blened sandstone. Surrender without a fight. To the oily, alien sky. Slumbering in the night. Silent partner. Nameless horse. Sandscape still. Geological corpse. Lifeless. Barren. Thirsty too. My Valentine's Day. Without you.

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Jun 10, 2018

Jun 10, 2018 at 5:14 AM UTC

joflo82

My Valentines Day

Motoring. Listlessly. Evening crawl. Halogen blue-blur. Spit-shines clear. The asphalt highway. That goes no where. Solemn moon. Pale and dull. Leans against the rock people. Walking the desert. In disguise. Quiet winds. Deaf and aphasic. Feed the alluvial ribbons. That perch the stoic. Introverted. Black Apache elevations. Cliffs of blened sandstone. Surrender without a fight. To the oily, alien sky. Slumbering in the night. Silent partner. Nameless horse. Sandscape still. Geological corpse. Lifeless. Barren. Thirsty too. My Valentine's Day. Without you.

31

As no one knows perfection ~ I love my dew dropped raisin. Eighteen days no alcohol ~ No more **** a blazin. Since she put the glass pipe down ~ Since she stopped free-basing. Today her best is shining through ~ Today she is meth-mazing!

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Jun 10, 2018

Jun 10, 2018 at 3:03 AM UTC

joflo82

No One is Perfect

As no one knows perfection ~ I love my dew dropped raisin. Eighteen days no alcohol ~ No more **** a blazin. Since she put the glass pipe down ~ Since she stopped free-basing. Today her best is shining through ~ Today she is meth-mazing!

8

Her ******* are tethered to stringy taffy skin... In swollen-udder swell. Girth beyond proportion.. Pools of celluloid. Like two aged and droopy heavyweights... Far beyond their prime. A fleshy gravitational pull... Drops each in heavy toss. Fatty tissue stretches thin... As one falls into my mouth.

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Jun 10, 2018

Jun 10, 2018 at 2:33 AM UTC

joflo82

Her *******

Her ******* are tethered to stringy taffy skin... In swollen-udder swell. Girth beyond proportion.. Pools of celluloid. Like two aged and droopy heavyweights... Far beyond their prime. A fleshy gravitational pull... Drops each in heavy toss. Fatty tissue stretches thin... As one falls into my mouth.

10

Within a wooden box ~ A frantic reach and grab. She smiles from the sidewalk ~ In her trembling grasp ~ A note for her friend ~ Is held up high. She shouts "You've got mail!" For a ten cent postage stamp ~ A letter from her man. Courtesy of the U.S. Mail Love delivered ~ Hand -to-hand. She shouts... "You've got mail!" Courtesy of the U.S. Mail An ageless cry of lore. Covered wagon on the trail ~ Or by Pony Express. A train steaming down the rail ~ Towards the Wild West. Or delivered through the air. Love from shore to shore. She shouts... "You've got mail!" Courtesy of the U.S. Mail ~ An ageless cry of lore. From the desert to the shore... To the mountain range. The U.S. Mail ~ Always ahead of modern change... Moving all the time. Love delivered for a dime. Delivered across the board. Despite recession or progress. Despite two great ****** wars. Despite overnight express. Despite UPS and FedEx Despite the pace of technology. Despite the speed of modern life. "You've got Mail" For two hundred years ~ Short and Sweet An ageless cry of lore. Reminds me of that old and ancient ~ Computer generated cry ~ Announcing the instantaneous reciept ~ Of your electronic-mail.... "You've got Mail"

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May 5, 2018

May 5, 2018 at 10:40 PM UTC

joflo82

Irony of U.S. Mail

Within a wooden box ~ A frantic reach and grab. She smiles from the sidewalk ~ In her trembling grasp ~ A note for her friend ~ Is held up high. She shouts "You've got mail!" For a ten cent postage stamp ~ A letter from her man. Courtesy of the U.S. Mail Love delivered ~ Hand -to-hand. She shouts... "You've got mail!" Courtesy of the U.S. Mail An ageless cry of lore. Covered wagon on the trail ~ Or by Pony Express. A train steaming down the rail ~ Towards the Wild West. Or delivered through the air. Love from shore to shore. She shouts... "You've got mail!" Courtesy of the U.S. Mail ~ An ageless cry of lore. From the desert to the shore... To the mountain range. The U.S. Mail ~ Always ahead of modern change... Moving all the time. Love delivered for a dime. Delivered across the board. Despite recession or progress. Despite two great ****** wars. Despite overnight express. Despite UPS and FedEx Despite the pace of technology. Despite the speed of modern life. "You've got Mail" For two hundred years ~ Short and Sweet An ageless cry of lore. Reminds me of that old and ancient ~ Computer generated cry ~ Announcing the instantaneous reciept ~ Of your electronic-mail.... "You've got Mail"

48

Forbidden mine ~ As skeletons lie ~ As dormant ore ~ Depths of mine. Of my resistance ~ Overpowered. Roundabout ~ Commenced. Depths of mine. Jacks and timber ~ Stack and cross. Lights on line ~ Depths of mine. Drill n' spindle ~ Cleave the spine. Hammer down ~ Depths of mine. Rest on the snooze ~ Secrets suddenly alive. Dreams and pandemonium ~ Fog the ashy skies On the midnight rise. Depths of mine. Skeletons gone awry ~ Guilt by association. Shore my humiliation ~ Depths of mine. Shame and discontent ~ My deepest flaws. Revealed desires ~ Depths of mine. But my love and destiny ~ You shall never know. Your drill may tap my mind ~ But it will never reach my soul.

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May 5, 2018

May 5, 2018 at 1:08 AM UTC

joflo82

Depths of Mine

Forbidden mine ~ As skeletons lie ~ As dormant ore ~ Depths of mine. Of my resistance ~ Overpowered. Roundabout ~ Commenced. Depths of mine. Jacks and timber ~ Stack and cross. Lights on line ~ Depths of mine. Drill n' spindle ~ Cleave the spine. Hammer down ~ Depths of mine. Rest on the snooze ~ Secrets suddenly alive. Dreams and pandemonium ~ Fog the ashy skies On the midnight rise. Depths of mine. Skeletons gone awry ~ Guilt by association. Shore my humiliation ~ Depths of mine. Shame and discontent ~ My deepest flaws. Revealed desires ~ Depths of mine. But my love and destiny ~ You shall never know. Your drill may tap my mind ~ But it will never reach my soul.

35