Green grass along a cerulean sky
Sought I
To write:
The perfect prose.
Thoroughly I searched,
Yet my pad remained plain and pure
And quite unquenched.
I strolled stolidly and walked wearily
To the water’s unexpected whims.
Amusing as it were, well…
With its lacking of lapping—
Just somewhat lazy:
For the wind blew blessedly refreshingly,
Yet the waves seemed scared to surface—
Somewhat suspiciously.
Then my ears caught quite a commotion
Coming from behind me:
Chuckling and chasing squirrels
Pounced past perched pigeons
As if to bother the birds
Because of blatant boredom.
Deafeningly distracted became I
When all of a sudden
A fickle photographer focused her
Large lens
Dangerously daringly in my direction.
Vainly I ventured to assume,
Yet I assuaged,
And I moved
Maturely… (as anyone should).
Pointed and positioned to the person of peace
Placed in the park;
She snapped, and she snipped a picture or two
Inevitably to post on a wasted wall space.
As the sun set,
To be clearly cliché,
I wrapped up my writings
On my once plain and pure pad.
Had it had eyes,
It would have gawked and glanced
For my gaze in return:
“You call that a creation? Corny it is,
Not at all concise.”
Carelessly content, I closed the cover
Leaving my pad
Quite unquenched.
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 12:01 AM UTC
Green grass along a cerulean sky
Sought I
To write:
The perfect prose.
Thoroughly I searched,
Yet my pad remained plain and pure
And quite unquenched.
I strolled stolidly and walked wearily
To the water’s unexpected whims.
Amusing as it were, well…
With its lacking of lapping—
just somewhat lazy:
For the wind blew blessedly refreshingly,
Yet the waves seemed scared to surface—
Somewhat suspiciously.
Then my ears caught quite a commotion
Coming from behind me:
Chuckling and chasing squirrels
Pounced past perched pigeons
As if to bother the birds
Because of blatant boredom.
Deafeningly distracted became I
When all of a sudden
A fickle photographer focused her
Large lens
Dangerously, daringly in my direction.
Vainly I ventured to assume,
Yet I assuaged,
And I moved
Maturely… (as anyone should).
Pointed and positioned to the person of peace
placed in the park,
She snapped, and she snipped a picture or two
Inevitably to post on a wasted wall space.
As the sun set,
To be clearly cliché,
I wrapped up my writings
On my once plain and pure pad.
Had it had eyes,
It would have gawked and glanced
For my gaze in return:
“You call that a creation? Corny it is,
Not at all concise.”
Carelessly content, I closed the cover
Leaving my pad
Quite unquenched.
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 6:57 PM UTC
We live two lives, you and I
That yield similar results ironically enough.
You see, I crave attention from men:
Scholars, athletes, wealthy, and always the attractive ones.
My heart spots one that it wants and goes for him subtly.
The nights end or begin--whichever--with entangled limbs, sweat-beaded foreheads, and then
departure.
As for you, You crave attention from men:
Scholars, athletes, wealthy, and always the attractive ones.
Your heart spots one that it wants and goes for him subtly.
The nights end or begin--whichever--with entangled limbs, sweat-beaded foreheads, and then
departure.
You may ask what our differences would be.
I crave attention because I'm not used to it.
You crave attention because it's all you've ever head.
Sadly, it seems, that we are both empty as the sky on a dry September afternoon
Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 4:22 PM UTC
I'm tired.
My eyes' lids droop,
And a blink lasts longer than a split second.
My feet are exhausted,
And my ankles crack with a subtle twist.
My skin feels *****
And my fingers notice a peculiar layer of film.
My brain is slow,
And it's difficult to ponder and write.
My body has been worked,
And it sighs to accompany a restless yawn.
May 18, 2012
May 18, 2012 at 12:46 AM UTC
Scream for me. Want me to be okay.
Love me like your best with heart in chest
And mind in hand,
Sing to me a gracious cry of pity.
Long for me to be by your side.
Notice I'm gone.
Call me your own.
Be captivated by me.
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 2:15 PM UTC
Hold my heart. Love me like your own.
Call my name and hold me tight.
I just want Security and Clarity:
Define them both just for me.
Make me see that what I need is what you heed.
There is Agony spending time with Longing:
Forbearing each other within my soul
with desperate whispers for more.
Hope expands me as a well under earth
Yearning to burst forth as a spring.
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 2:09 PM UTC
I thought my affection was this, but it's just that.
That's all.
I tried to make this affection into something more, but it was in vain.
I told myself, "I want that," but after the fact, I didn't.
I wanted this.
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 2:00 PM UTC
Poetry exceeds me and my wildest dreams.
Ink and tree meet, but my mind missed the means:
Fantasy traps my heart;
Conviction steers the same
Leaving its direction pathless as a gale-less helm.
Sensibility's fervor is strict,
And Leniency's apathy is an empty promise.
What have I done?!
Why would I have listened to this flesh?
Only to destroy it.
I must wait.
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 1:54 PM UTC