I have a pen to write poetry no one reads I have a canvas to paint pictures that never see shadows I have a voice to sing that only speaks in fluster My fingers pluck the guitar creating the music of singularity One day it would be ideal To cast away my work uniform To brush away my tears of conformity And pluck a gossamer silver Star from the heavens ...Just once.
Life is not a song No heavenly beginnings Endings are abrupt And the ice of time is always thinning Underneath you No swelling orchestral voice To dictate hope No sad and feeling piano To play as we're coping
Life is not a movie It is mostly innocent sinning Villains winning Daggers in men's smiles Aren't creative (And the fall of Hero's does not necessarily dictate that he will rise once more) There's Only a "happy ending" For fools.
When my head is spinning Trying to make sense of existence, cohesion; The song I'm strumming On my guitar Or the words I pen to illustrate My suffering and disillusionment Only panders to the fantasy And the dumbing Down Because the only sound That follows us through life is The harsh, freezing crackling, sputtering, breaking sound Of the thin ice that is collapsing Expeditiously Beneath us all.
Hold your head high! The hoard discards their virtue Like the thunderous roar of a fools laughter. Hold back your painful sign, because you- You are beautiful! Looking forward with prideful shining eyes As they glare at you Their jealous hatred undisguised. You, Woman, always taking that high road So steep and arduous, You're never daunted by its awesome heights! A Hero is made by her daily choices To rise above the common evil- Poisonous contempt, The hero derides. Keep your pearls of wisdom Close to your side, Because your worth is greater For the lovely heart inside.
More syrupy than I intended but, it is a poem about dealing with aggressive bullies.
From this angle, the mountain In all it's snow laden glory- Invites teenage memory.
From the window Of my old room There was the reverie The glowing embers Of pink and warmth The beginning of my story- And now, As I gaze upon that same view My heart yearns With those same feelings Glossed over with the somber Addition of age Sizzling with history- That peak still lives Unaffected By my nostalgia.
After the plunging neckline And the next red lipped smile And then after that, The Halloween costume cat woman spandex Highlighting her curves (Like the shadows whispering to the body of a Porsche) He was a plain and ordinary blue collar man But with each swipe of his hand He transformed into- Steve McQueen Riding the turns of the Hollywood Hills At his disposal The drowsy dreams of yesteryear The illusions of marriage to his **** star, movie star, super model wife All thanks to this hazy laptop screen light He can conquer his nothingness He can conquer her
Have you ever tasted The bitter wine From the night before? When the senior twilight washed the Grapes from wrath And the moonlight clipped our heels On that midnight path Lips were gleaming with yesterday Sounds of laughter Escaping the memory And the glass that held the remnants Fell over and shattered We never walked across it Because the damage never mattered Just that moment Together Until we tossed It away, as well- Lost it... The same way We lost the wine But not the after taste