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Get out live the life

Don’t mind the strife

Down the valleys

Do not leave your allies

Go up the mountains

It’s part of the trains

Give it your best

Yell out from the west

Man, you gotta try

If you don’t, on your deathbed you’ll cry

Knowing you had a chance

To win in the dance!
You have to make a decision one time or another. It's inevitable.
“Life can have its share of tears and heartaches,
Malady and demise dolefully follows us in our lives,
Our souls exist with love laughter family and faith,  
Life’s secret of caverns like the songs in your mind,

The enclave of sand rock and lichen reflects well,
Of that was formed ever so enchanting the abyss,
Of the stone with its furtive outlets afore the deep brine,
As it passed by your name a fiery flower than created,

The arduous waves rose like a barrier in the Universe,
A canticle now well beloved all things ode to love,
Earth time sea island life and tide are subsequent,
The sea is the mouth to the universe and tells all,    

Flowers on the now spring unfold afore our eyes,
Observing us as if our passions are now in the begin,  
Arduous waves of the brine are now burgeoning flowers,
A courtyard now surrounded with passionate flowers,

We were alive together on a macrocosm heretofore,
Yet not alone when the hour of our demise befalls us,  
Our love was harvested as that of the fields of grain,
I the knowledge of the sea and you with gold lividity,  

Mine exists in the caverns of the soil and sand
Fear not my blossom of life the fire of our love,
Soon loving kisses will join as our mouths,
Cleave perpetually”
By Andrew Guzaldo ©  11/15/2018
By Andrew Guzaldo ©  11/15/2018      #Poem #131
  Jan 2019 Desmond the poet
most people see me as
a happy person because
i laugh easily,
i smile a lot,
i joke a lot.

but deep down
in my heart,
i am fragile,
i can get hurt easily,
but i choose to not
show it to the world.

instead of being sad,
i choose to laugh to cover it.
maybe you can call me
"the queen of the mask"

by this,
you can tell
that most of the time
when I'm laughing,
I'm not really laughing,
i was trying so hard to hide
my sadness.
  Jan 2019 Desmond the poet
by the window,
gazing on the crescent moon,
cold breezes tear through the room,
the night sky,
glistening monochrome picture,
the beauty reminds me of you,
goose bumps graze the skin,
reality fades away,
involuntarily end up on your world,
The first letter i wrote you,
lays on my hand,
i spilt my heart out for you,
asked to take you out too,
wind blows pieces of paper,
and there lies the fourth letter,
i wrote, it's a poem
scripted script less,
written from the edges of my thought's,
as words coined at will,
i think you would've liked it,
the ending, a cretan,
sends me to the second letter,
a rhyme, declaring
my love for you,
a lovely one,
but the brightest thought's,
bloom the darkest,
and then reality keeps up,
it haunt's you know,
knowing my heart harbors affection,
for you,but silence rule's my mouth,
knowing my brittle heart,
would easily fall for her charm's,
letters didn't see the mail man,
i once dropped it at your doorstep,
wore a cape to get the courage,
to knock,and i did,
but instead i woke up.
Scripted lamentations
my love
thy hair is one kingdom
  the king whereof is darkness
thy forehead is a flight of flowers

thy head is a quick forest
  filled with sleeping birds
thy ******* are swarms of white bees
  upon the bough of thy body
thy body to me is April
in whose armpits is the approach of spring

thy thighs are white horses yoked to a chariot
  of kings
they are the striking of a good minstrel
between them is always a pleasant song

my love
thy head is a casket
  of the cool jewel of thy mind
the hair of thy head is one warrior
  innocent of defeat
thy hair upon thy shoulders is an army
  with victory and with trumpets

thy legs are the trees of dreaming
whose fruit is the very eatage of forgetfulness

thy lips are satraps in scarlet
  in whose kiss is the combinings of kings
thy wrists
are holy
  which are the keepers of the keys of thy blood
thy feet upon thy ankles are flowers in vases
  of silver

in thy beauty is the dilemma of flutes

  thy eyes are the betrayal
of bells comprehended through incense
  Jan 2019 Desmond the poet
who are you?
you look so familiar.
mirrors are tools,
you are a tool,
reflect my light.
i see so clearly,
i see my light
ever so faint.

reflect myself towards the moon,
i speak to the sun --
i speak to myself.
i speak to the moon --
i speak to a mirror.
you're a real illusion.
only reflecting
  Jan 2019 Desmond the poet
I am the deep, the sky in reverse
I have what you seek, for better or worse

I am the blue of infinite depth
I've swallowed the crews and cleared the decks

You are afraid or maybe intrigued
Of the place where you played and also was freed

Kiss me now like you did before
Give me your vow and the ocean is yours.
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