Puckered lips.
'How should I move' and 'where should she meet me'
Forth on. And I don't. And she won't.
Unconventional.
We're ****** love. Smitten.
Frost-struck fools.
Your hand didn't find mine when I lost my footing,
And you won't understand why people don't come here,
The place where none should stand
to fall.
No response. Unkept, godless silence; pray, pray, I am prey.
That was it, wasn't it?
An exclamation point to a run-off
sentence; we refused.
She'll pray to the gods
We'll later become
And I'll never sip on something pristine as
Lavender tea lemonade.
She said the stars converse as we do.
Shining. Laughing. Slowly dying.
I'll go to your back, then your head to my chest.
Hearing you: softening
Jabs to whispers.
There, a heavy light settled along the edge
Of our spot, our unencumbered field of obsidian
And crafted blades of grass.
Of all the things I can be,
I can't be the last to go.
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 12:29 AM UTC
I threaded the lyrics of my soul's last song
with a string of your actions.
My dear, you've muted me.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
The indecisive grey is a casualty of the black and white war.
Hope loves to play.
She hides her essence in the smiles of strangers.
Approach her, end the game.
Then share what's been found with the time spent seeking.
Absolute Objectivity does not exist.
Fed selfishness, become consumed.
Starve selfishness, become sated.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 3:45 AM UTC
Humility sets the stage for learning
And wisdom gained, through acts of earning.
No role forced, none strung to play.
No certain applause, none forced to stay.
No knowledge will steady a wavering hand.
No strength to those with a dependent stand.
No yearning for truth demands concerning
When humility sets the stage for learning.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 2:59 AM UTC
Your retreat is cowardly, to his self-serving 'effort'.
Never forget, I let go so you could grow your own.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 10:32 PM UTC
Where's the edge in your rhyme schemes?
No wedge between my time and my themes.
You make cents while you don't make sense,
play dense when you mistake tense.
In my defense,
I expend to no end, at no expense.
Hide intense behind offense,
a generic's scend is too immense.
Son of sin, son of suns and runes.
Father of win, father of puns and tunes.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
Never judge a book by its cover,
but always a man by his penmanship.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 6:37 AM UTC
Toss them into the pit!
That babbling **** who twitches
on the side of the local gas station,
who talks
as if he had company!
The girl with obvious scars
across her thighs and arms,
it's her fault for not seeking help;
she does this to herself!
Freak! who writes poetry
and speaks with words
that force me to pick up
effort and a dictionary!
***** he is not a man, not even to his
lover, he makes her feel respected and
on equal plane! he even fights
for gay rights, for the animals near-extinct!
Let the helpless and the helpful,
the hopeless and the hopeful
suffer, not by
each other,
but
by
themselves.
And we, with years of
practice, of
earned
ignorance
can enjoy the scene
from the tops of
our immoral high horses.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 2:55 AM UTC
I think, often. Maybe too often.
I think you're scared of me.
I think you're skeptical of the good in things.
And up until you met me, I know you've had every reason to be.
I think we're all monsters, and that humanity is history's great facade.
I think we're all scrambling to find salvation.
And I think I've found mine in pen strokes dedicated to you.
I think, I think, I think...
And with you no longer by my side, I always will think.
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC
When someone you love begs you to leave.
Creating a tsunami with the skips of a pebble.
The second before every mistake.
The seconds within every moment.
The second after every made-memory.
Empty chairs at empty tables.
The realization that we're all sets of stories.
How to justify wrinkles underneath the eyes.
A *****
The most valuable good.
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 6:08 AM UTC