Poets DO have issues!
Poets are insane!
We have a different record groove,  
We have a different grain!

We have a different wiring
Don't respond to "normal" tests
We are the fish who climb up trees
Of this I can attest!

(chorus)
Poets hear their colors,
Poets see their songs,
Poets touch the music notes
They taste to sing along!

We wear t-shirts in 10 feet of snow
Coats in sunny climes!
We have no sense of timing
'Cept when we write our rhymes!

We go out in stormy weather
When it's clement we stay in!
We eat pizza in the morning
Write limericks on a whim!

(chorus)

We are calm when life gets frustrating
Mad when things go well!
Write rants when times are blissful
And sonnets when it's hell!

We travel to the Moon and back
Wear Stardust in our hair
We know the very Cosmos
Sitting in our chair!

Our pens they scratch a tympany
Our pages plumb the depths
Of profound Pacific trenches
Or drown in puddles wept...


We have a different wiring
Don't respond to "normal" tests
We are the fish who climb up trees
Of this I can attest!

Poets hear their colors!
Poets see their songs!
Is that so ridiculous?
Folks, is that so wrong?

Poets hear their colors
The colors of the heart!
Come and see this song with us

Let your mind fall apart!


SoulSurvivor
(C) 7/10/2016

We all want to disappear
To tear our insides out of the existence sphere

your kiss was as tasty
as strawberry sauce.
but was it your tongue
or just your lipgloss?

your hair smelled of wild flowers,
sickly sweet and divine.
your perfume was so rustic,
like a soft scented pine.

your eyes sparkled bright
like the overhead stars.
with you softly singing,
and me strumming guitar.

we danced until morning,
skinny dipped in the stream.
it all seemed so perfect,
could it be just a dream?

our nights that summer,
i won't soon forget
the memories we made
or the girl that i met.

Because I’m a fat ***.
Because I was already irritated.
The way you were hanging on me.
The work I need to do.
The food in my stomach metabolizing straight to my
thighs/hips/arms/face/calves/cheeks/***/waist/chest.

Who are you anyway?
My guts were black like charcoal and twice as gritty.

**** Sundays.
**** Valentine’s.
**** fancy dinners
**** new clothes
**** sleeping in
**** food anyway.
**** being nice.
**** being sweet.

Because you called me pretty
And I can’t stand the lies that are so sticky sweet
and make messes and gather all the dirt from the air
and somehow it’s still sticky and now it’s black and you can’t scrub it off.

Because you throw around things like “love” and “forever”
and “beautiful”
but they’re too heavy for me to catch and all they do is leave me with
bruises.

And bruises just remind me of fat.

Because you still don’t know that I’m
Stupid and fat and ugly and crazy.

Because you make it hard for me to feel bad.

Because you throw around things like “forever”
and this is the only way I can catch it.

The chains wrapped around my body seem to get tighter every day.
The thriving sensation in my chest never seems to go away.
The stones attached to my feet, aim to drag me down lower.
I can't even scream for help, cause the waters getting colder.
I try to remember what it was like, to be able to breathe on my own
but the weights that are sewn into me, continuously have  grown.
The shackles on my wrist feel like wet concrete in the sun
My blood flow has stopped, and the feeling is numb.
I don't know how to explain myself, when people ask me what's wrong
I just look and say nothing, with a smile to go along
but really I'm not sure, and I haven't found the right answer
I'm just tired of living and wish death would come faster
I"m slowly going under the harder I'm thinking
Trying to find a way to keep myself from slowly sinking.
My body wants to break free  , but it's my mind that's not allowing
maybe it's best if i just give in, I mean I'm already drowning.