What is our life? The play of passion.
Our mirth? The music of division:
Our mothers’ wombs the tiring-houses be,
Where we are dressed for life’s short comedy.
The earth the stage; Heaven the spectator is,
Who sits and views whosoe’er doth act amiss.
The graves which hide us from the scorching sun
Are like drawn curtains when the play is done.
Thus playing post we to our latest rest,
And then we die in earnest, not in jest.

and I am remade,
that's the beauty of us,
having never met,
before this moment,
and this moment lays out in front of me,
and I am as I want to be,

not so much as beautiful,
but put together,
and on time,
clean lines,
and calculated responses,
I am currently better than maybe you expected,
and I exceed my expectations of the me I  was before we met,
and I am glad,

I feel confident,
if only in this moment,
and I find peace in the projection of who I wanna be,
and  having just met you,
I find joy in knowing you haven't met my past,
because in such a small space of time,
I haven't failed you,
yet...

We build bridges.

Like links of hope

between strangers

who wish to have known each other better.

Like ways to write a letter

even if we are lost out and within the sea

when she is not so calm.

Waves break against my edges.

Solid, crash filled, and lighter than none.

When the stillness is all we are after

I clutch to the shipwrecks we made;

shifting through memories

and trying to find anything that still matters

left floating on these scattered life raft tatters.


Way out, away from the centering moon

I call to you

between dark waves and

stretched out in all ways and directions

with every bit of space for breath I have

just to see if you will long for me;

bent breaths with loose lungs expand and

Call to me, just to tell me,

“I Love you too."

Because that’s all it takes to pull me through

the icy shadows that lunge for me.

Part the space between the waves and run for me

so that I can watch the sunset

ignite spirit and burst fire in your eyes;

a cosmic light to burn through the lies.

Again for the last time.

Until the next time

you come home to my lips

and the way they crash waves with yours.

Enough that we build bridges

to find our way back to the shores

that made us wish so much for the ocean.


Right now,

I’m acknowledging the fact that

I may be just some dock that your heart can find home in for a little while.

While you’re in the gravity of my soul

Like the tides our lips pull together.

Far away from forever,

but I know it for a measure,

in your cyclical return...

Life provokes obstacles,
That is encountered by many,
Pursuing such unique careers,
Cost a fortune; not a penny.
Life is vivacious,
Filled of laughter set by younger ones,
The memorable days of homework,
Yes, there was tons!
Life tells of a novel,
In which humanity grows,
Successful or not,
God always knows.
Being able to succeed in a future life,
Is not folly, yet a gift,
Taking chances and risking pure life,
Would be a great shift.
Life presumes to be adventurous,
Even if it doesn't go a certain way,
It will try Its absolute best,
Throughout life people will play.

My mind on you,
Stuck like glue,
Can’t think of anything else,
As I walk the beach & pick up shells,
I try to think of something different,
Like are you an angel; heaven sent?
'Cause nothing else matters but you,
Cupid has struck me with his arrow through,
I’m possessed & can’t concentrate,
This feeling I love but I also hate,
Jealousy fills me when you talk to someone,
But I can’t convince myself to be the one;
You should be with,
When I sleep I writhe;
In agony because you are not with me,
I wish I knew how I could make you see,
That I could be so much more,
Than what I seem to you; whom I adore,
If I knew the spell that could bind me & you,
Long ago I’d have proved my feelings true,
But for now my heart cries with sorrow,
As I wonder if you'll ever know,
How this heart of mine could love,
A woman like you, beautiful dove...
© okpoet