rz-earnest - Hello Poetry

The two of us play the same note with the sounds of our lives. Our timbre, however, makes them unlike: the wisp of a butterfly; a supernova.

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Jun 26, 2017

Jun 26, 2017 at 2:34 AM UTC

Timbre

The two of us play the same note with the sounds of our lives. Our timbre, however, makes them unlike: the wisp of a butterfly; a supernova.

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O Love, Why do we hesitate in our fear? What do we seek to preserve, for What is worth more in life than the Life itself? While the spoils of the lives Around us fade to nothing, the Fruits of our union - our shared life - Are self evident. It is the adventure Itself that we reap. Alas, We search instead for a map Of a road that has not been cleared, When the compass heading is As clear as the waters of Nyasa. So come! Let us move ever onward, and ever Upward - for the road has yet to be tread, But the destination is certain. Let what is true speak into our hearts, So that our hearts can guide us in What is true on our voyage.

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May 15, 2017

May 15, 2017 at 2:14 PM UTC

Movement

O Love, Why do we hesitate in our fear? What do we seek to preserve, for What is worth more in life than the Life itself? While the spoils of the lives Around us fade to nothing, the Fruits of our union - our shared life - Are self evident. It is the adventure Itself that we reap. Alas, We search instead for a map Of a road that has not been cleared, When the compass heading is As clear as the waters of Nyasa. So come! Let us move ever onward, and ever Upward - for the road has yet to be tread, But the destination is certain. Let what is true speak into our hearts, So that our hearts can guide us in What is true on our voyage.

22

My eyes shift back Into focus after staring For so long I blink as I wipe the drool Off and look around I sit in the comfortable recliner As I notice the room, the chair, The clock tells me how many years I've been sitting here, content to Watch the dancing lights from The T.V. But all that's there is static

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Apr 24, 2017

Apr 24, 2017 at 11:16 AM UTC

Gaze

My eyes shift back Into focus after staring For so long I blink as I wipe the drool Off and look around I sit in the comfortable recliner As I notice the room, the chair, The clock tells me how many years I've been sitting here, content to Watch the dancing lights from The T.V. But all that's there is static

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When doubts and fears are like an ocean, I clamor to the sand - A billion tiny grains of deafaning voices. I use them as soap and bleach Against my skin to wash away the waves Which crash against my soul. I dig the sand with dirtied palms as far as I can go, Deeper into the liars pit Until I reach what lies underneath, of Which I find regret. So I lock my fingers into a cage and press Into the regret, and choke it At the bottom of the pit I dug myself, But like spit through teeth It shoots on through my grasp defiant and proud, Where it buries me in its place.

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Apr 22, 2017

Apr 22, 2017 at 4:07 AM UTC

Beach of Regret

When doubts and fears are like an ocean, I clamor to the sand - A billion tiny grains of deafaning voices. I use them as soap and bleach Against my skin to wash away the waves Which crash against my soul. I dig the sand with dirtied palms as far as I can go, Deeper into the liars pit Until I reach what lies underneath, of Which I find regret. So I lock my fingers into a cage and press Into the regret, and choke it At the bottom of the pit I dug myself, But like spit through teeth It shoots on through my grasp defiant and proud, Where it buries me in its place.

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Being as self conscious and Insecure as I Means fixing your hair before Climbing into an empty Bed And sleeping alone, Discontent with myself In the dark.

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Apr 9, 2017

Apr 9, 2017 at 4:06 AM UTC

Content and I

Being as self conscious and Insecure as I Means fixing your hair before Climbing into an empty Bed And sleeping alone, Discontent with myself In the dark.

8

I am of no use, is what it tells me. That I have nothing special, and that I am nothing compared to those around me is the truest lie I was ever told. It allows me to be soluble in the lives and achievements of others. The individual pieces of me dissolve into insignificant, infinitesimal specks that serve no purpose, and amount to nothing. Anything I do - any talents I have - will be surmounted by those who are more than I could ever wish to be. Alone I am whole, where the love I keep under my sheets and between my arms tells me she values me. But out there - out there in the world I am of no importance and infinite expendability.

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Mar 14, 2017

Mar 14, 2017 at 5:01 AM UTC

Insecurity

I am of no use, is what it tells me. That I have nothing special, and that I am nothing compared to those around me is the truest lie I was ever told. It allows me to be soluble in the lives and achievements of others. The individual pieces of me dissolve into insignificant, infinitesimal specks that serve no purpose, and amount to nothing. Anything I do - any talents I have - will be surmounted by those who are more than I could ever wish to be. Alone I am whole, where the love I keep under my sheets and between my arms tells me she values me. But out there - out there in the world I am of no importance and infinite expendability.

17

My girl is a superhero: With one foot she snuffs the smoldering Cigarette **** her depression lies in, and With the other she staves the weight of a Terrible job; With her left hand she creates and makes Beautiful things from a beautiful mind, And with her right she craddles me, All the while flying on the small vibrant Wings of a robyn.

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Mar 11, 2017

Mar 11, 2017 at 4:27 PM UTC

Superhero

My girl is a superhero: With one foot she snuffs the smoldering Cigarette **** her depression lies in, and With the other she staves the weight of a Terrible job; With her left hand she creates and makes Beautiful things from a beautiful mind, And with her right she craddles me, All the while flying on the small vibrant Wings of a robyn.

10

Even in a leopard bathrobe, Naked face full of phlegm, wearing The days of deep depression Smeared across her face, She was still a goddess. A sick, beautiful, goddess Who I'm glad woke up This morning.

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Feb 25, 2017

Feb 25, 2017 at 3:49 AM UTC

Post-Shower Haze

Even in a leopard bathrobe, Naked face full of phlegm, wearing The days of deep depression Smeared across her face, She was still a goddess. A sick, beautiful, goddess Who I'm glad woke up This morning.

8

Of all the places we could be, Getting married in six months or Enganged in Disney Land, Or maybe even moving North To simply live together, Of all the places we're here - While you destruct and I Balance a crumbling life with school, Here we are back in like.

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Jan 21, 2017

Jan 21, 2017 at 4:09 AM UTC

Of All Places

Of all the places we could be, Getting married in six months or Enganged in Disney Land, Or maybe even moving North To simply live together, Of all the places we're here - While you destruct and I Balance a crumbling life with school, Here we are back in like.

9

Awake again, another day Coffee as brown as her eyes meet me from The mug she made me. The heater keeps the cold away But not as well as her breath Or her skin against mine, The shower head begins to spray Steaming water that I ever wish were Her fingers, streaming down my back. Our frustrated feelings start to fray As we play witness to others begin life together As we've worked so hard to achieve. But I will be the ceramic and not the clay, Steadfast and unyielding until mine is mine And hers is hers because by god -- Awake I will be in the suns first rays, Wrapped in arms and light and soft brown hair And eyes like coffee that will beg me back to bed.

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Nov 8, 2016

Nov 8, 2016 at 2:03 AM UTC

Untitled

Awake again, another day Coffee as brown as her eyes meet me from The mug she made me. The heater keeps the cold away But not as well as her breath Or her skin against mine, The shower head begins to spray Steaming water that I ever wish were Her fingers, streaming down my back. Our frustrated feelings start to fray As we play witness to others begin life together As we've worked so hard to achieve. But I will be the ceramic and not the clay, Steadfast and unyielding until mine is mine And hers is hers because by god -- Awake I will be in the suns first rays, Wrapped in arms and light and soft brown hair And eyes like coffee that will beg me back to bed.

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