The beauty of people,
Like the beauty of books,
Has many different forms.
Young and fresh,
Old and well kept,
Weathered many storms...
The beauty of youth
Gets noticed more
Like a brand new books
Fresh from the store
With plot lines that remain
Secret and sweet mystery
But of course they lack
Weighted words and history
Old and taken care of
Just a little frayed
It's in great shape for it's age,
But still, it's going gray
People will admire it
For how it holds itself
But it may be missing out
Just sitting on it's shelf
Then there's books
With covers stained
Dog-eared pages
In some pain
These may be my favorite
I read them by the stack
You know they've seen the world
They've been there and back.
Maybe they'll be rebound
Reprinted on fresh trees
But for now they are content
To give us torn out pages
And fill us with their memories.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
Another day, another dollar
But as time flies by
The world gets smaller
You can fold your bills
And count your cash
But the time you've spent
You can't buy back
I've got equity in memory
my debts are fully paid
I think it's time to undermine
All the rules they made
I "can't pay bills with adventure and thrills"
I may not sit rich
But I stand fulfilled
Your Legs grow weak
While your tires roll
Your mouth may eat
But you starve your soul
Five days of work
Two days free
Two hundred and fifty days per year
A slave to the economy.
Gotta eat to live
Gotta work to eat
Work, buy, consume, die
Rinse and then Repeat
The cycle needs broken
And system needs fixed
The corrupt world leaders
All need 86'd
I don't know how to do it,
I just know how to live
But I know I can't take it
So i guess I'll try to give.
Fix it when I break it
Make it when I need it
First I'll try to grow it
Then I get to eat it.
Plant the seeds
Not just for trees
But for intelligence
And philosophy.
The greatest human feats
Were once merely thoughts
So think about the world we have
Now make it what we want.
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC
I sit and listen to the wind
My tea's gone cold
Bitter
As I drain the dregs
All is stillness but the wind
Nothing dances but the chimes
And I,
I sit and listen
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
Whether it's your father, your mother, your friend or your lover,
an enemy, a stranger or me.
Whether you feel achey neglect or sweet safety.
Love, regret or conversationality.
Relationships are messy,
completely captured by complexity.
Oh what it would be to sit down face to face,
have mind, body and soul empathically trade place.
You'll feel what I've felt since the day we first met
and know you're a treasure I'll never forget.
I'll finally see what's been hidden from me,
the swirling storms of emotional mystery.
Love me or hate me, I'll survive and adapt, uncertainty is the death of me when my chemicals react.
But there it is. A mess of lies.
Lying to others, lying to ourselves,
the truth lies dusty under beds and on shelves.
A mess of truths that we cannot speak but strongly feel.
So simple and real,
that we can't comprehend,
let alone share with a lover or friend.
Fire, water, food and shelter.
A sad life bereft of love,
to take away your very breath,
but all you need is love...
Until you starve to death.
- Kevin Schvaneveldt
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 12:57 PM UTC
If someone were to bash in my head, the way a child smashes a colorful pinata, candy would not spill out. Blood, brains, chunks of bone, this is what you are expecting? Down right logical... But not entirely correct. What would fall into that scattered pile, to be dug through and have the best treats taken first, would be an assortment of many things. Books, art, poetry, precious memories, pointless trivia, a lifetime of collected information so painstakingly remembered. But there in the chaotic midst of what used to be organically organized neurons, would be countless thoughts of you. These of course would be the sweetest tidbits, the tasty treasure gathered greedily by the party guests. Countless thoughts of you... And yes... Also, blood, brains, and chunks of bone.
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 9:20 PM UTC
The heart, is the hardest part to chart,
an ocean of emotion, all it's depths unmarked.
There never was smooth sailing, on such a sea as this,
teeming as it always is, with love and lust and hungry sharks.
Here you may find treasure, among wreckage and sweet memories.
So long as you remember, there's danger in this stormy sea.
Flooding with love or existing only to pump the blood?
Scientists and poets, they simply don't agree...
One man may say "It's sink or swim",
while another says "Relax and enjoy the float"
The Titanic sank on nothing but an iceberg's whim,
while many a castaway has survived, on a tiny fishing boat.
Some men set sail in search of adventure, in every corner of the sea,
while others search for business, profit and proficiency.
To steal your heart is why I'm here my dear,
oh yes, it's a pirates life for me...
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 2:26 PM UTC
I awoke before the sun did rise,
my muddled mind and blurry eyes,
found beauty in those inky skies,
Subtle streaks of gray and black,
a love letter that's been stained and smeared,
slowly with the rising sun,
light and color did appear,
Brilliant orange, glowing gold,
it spoke of fall and coming cold,
a brilliant effort made by the sun,
beauty with a fading warmth,
whispering that summer's done,
Watercolor waves, horizon shore,
swimming in those cresting clouds,
each sunrise unlike the one before,
on mornings like this, the Silence is Loud.
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
There's something sweet in tangled sheets
Lips on lips, skin on skin
I pull you close...
but not to sin
You talk in your sleep
Silly words slip from your lips
I explore your soft and silky skin
With my calloused fingertips
You snooze your dream breaking alarm
I hold you tightly in my arms
Our morning kiss tastes both of bliss...
and a goodbye, fast approaching
Stall the sun...
Make daylight wait...
Just one more hour in this bed
With only you inside my head
I've come to know, that nights are cold
Unless i'm tangled in your sheets
I've heard it said, that love is red
But crimson's what I need.
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
I am a man of artistry and imagination. This may seem like a beautiful thing, but it/s actually quite dangerous. I have formed an idea of you in my head. A shade made out of smoke and mirrors. Such things may be blown away by a wisp of wind or a single whispered word. There-in lies, one of my few worldly woes. Everyone I love may be a figment of my imagination. My own private work of fiction....
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 1:10 AM UTC
Change is the only constant.
You will never be the same again.
The End.
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 12:33 AM UTC