it takes time to sort through
sometimes you may get lost
it might be mind boggling
but keep  trying don't give up

I'm starting over fresh
putting the past behind
and moving forward with
every Tic and every Toc
with every minute passing
upon the great clock
I lose a little Yet
I gain alot...
Tic...Toc...Tic...Toc

with each gust of gloom
transparent emotions flow
a whistling tender breeze
lingering a lonely rhythm

realigning clouds of smog  
hovering tattering trees
leaving behind a silhouette
absorbing shadows of sorrow

all alone a locked heart
searching for unknown hope
humming the bitter dreams
of a darkened and lost soul

sometimes my words can hit so instantly
that just the way that  they flow from me
powered by imagination is the best to be
its at my fingertips and its my magic key
I put my heart and soul in my creativity
making masterpieces throughout my poetry

thoughts are draining
from every inch of my mind
yet I can't find the last line

I'm slaving at my desk
racking my brain for
the perfect words

my soul is ****** dry
not one single drop of
inspiration for me to try

lingering in the dry air
that passes each branch
it stands within loneliness
yet staying strong and bare
it still shows its beauty

echoed steps faster pace
shadows on every corner
running with no destination
tripping over her confusion
she's now on the ground
eyes covered with fright

absorbing comprehension
so sweet like red wine
yet surprised by your wet kiss

sturdy stem of throns
a fragile soul grow
strung like barbwire
withering very slow

soft to the touch
older day by day
no longer admired
perfume fading away

folding over in sorrow
petals they slowly fade
from the dying rose
losing beauty it has made

last petal crumbles
dusting Earth's floor
for the dying rose
happiness is no more

there was no way to escape
the strangling rising waters
now penetrating its hollow core
attacking from the depths of
an endless source of bubbles
sinking its last hungry breath
to the bottom sandy sea floor
this skeleton corpse lost
the little soul it had left

you are my ripe and tender peach
yet I strain for just one touch
you're too far away for my reach
exhausted I sit down and cry
distance proves to be too much
wow, I wish that I could fly

I take a breath and give a sigh
a mind filled with mists so deep
in a branch you are way up high
wet from my tears I drift asleep

so tightly held in your leaves
I wake with eyes opened wide
you sway under dawns soft light
my excitement I just can't hide
tender peach, my wondrous sight

don't get too drunk
that you lose reality
or blinded by the lies
told under your nose

don't get too drunk
breaking your own heart
digging a hole in your soul
for the promised illusion

don't get too drunk
that you change so much
you're unable to find yourself
ready to turn your life in

don't get too drunk
clinging to the addiction
of poisoned temptation
the alcohol of false love

the traquilled waters flowed
awaking her inner child
light engulfs the darkness
enclosing her past behind

enchanting beauty shines
hidden under nature's blanket
something very special
calling her soul of pure bliss

deep and beyond the underworld
she has finally arrived safely
just where she was meant to be
home within the seams of the sea

Can the ocean really get flooded?.
when the ocean in my brain gets flooded ......

my thoughts are tangled up
in the tornado twisting and turning
in my head surrounding my brain that fight
through the tossing thoughts, emotions and
feelings that my lips may have trouble speaking
my pen is the oar I use to pull my drowning soul
out from the troubles waters

The ship wreck of words sail through
the rough thinking waters running fast
causing a whirlpool headache as they
fight pushing and clawing at my brain walls
yet surviving thoughts that were able to brake
free from the storm of depression they smudge
a trail through the dripping wet ink falling from
my oar of a writing pen dragging behind the
clustering drift wood of lost words smearing
through the lines of the solid land of paper

my brain calms down a bit to inspect the
rest stop of provided free range of open
writing space clearing the way for all the
injured broken pieces of memories and
lost thoughts that were still floating behind
the mind is trying to stay focus by thinking,
searching for any surviving notions or ideas
that hangs there on the tip of my tongue

tossing out the remembering lifesavers to
pull in other surfacing thoughts that wants
and need to be revived from the fallen debris
clustered crews of gathered thoughts form as
my pen holds the ink of hope and inspiration
dragging my down confused depressed soul
to safety by writing my trapped untold story

ink its flowing through the valleys of paper
marking detailing the saved unspoken words
freed from the clutches of depressions prison
my brain can now release its story through my
scrawling pen that I hold in my writing hand

There are always traps of frustration, confusion and
depression; which is the worse pitfall of them all
the war from the thinking process is never over
preparing for their battle I take the action to grab
the already loaded weapon for writing; the "INK PEN"

there are as many definitions
of poetry as there are poets
as a writer I feel poetry is
a form of art; the antidote for
depression an illness that can
take a away all hope from a
determined soul with a passion
for living life but not enough
strength to climb from the deep
pit of darkness that shadows the heart

I know from experience that
poetry is a powerful antidote
yet it may not cure depression
but will help keep it under control
my mind I know is an ocean flooded
with feelings, emotions and thoughts
when its too hard to say what I feel I
grab my pen and poetry become the paint
of my unspoken thoughts

poetry is my lasso of words that has
pulled barbwire of confused thoughts
from the crevices of my thinking mind
bridging from the rocky cliffs of frustration
to the solid valley covered lands of peace

hidden in the hovering clouds of depression
is a locked door that blocks the exit of
a crisp and clear wonderful world holding
the true beauty of imagination hostage yet
to free the darkened soul use the antidote for
it is the powerful key unlocking creativity
as a writer I call this; the key of "POETRY"

torn by the blade of lies
the core of the hurting soul
hanging from the thread of love
a trapped heart no longer whole

a safety pin held her heart in place
no longer was it picture perfect
it has been split down the middle
in between somewhere somehow torn
the lingering pain and hurt is there
pulling and tugging at the pieces
shattered not stitched nor tailored
yet a safety pin small and worn out
soon to lose the grasp of its strength
with every breath it might come apart
an yet continuing to beat is her heart

she failed to take a breath
as her darkened thoughts
penetrate through the
hollow core of her soul
the feeling of nausea hit and
came with her fear of death

worry lingered her thinking brain
covering the walls with ugliness
her mind is stained black with pain
what was she to do; leave or weep?
there was no comprehension of the
monster which she was about to meet

she's choking on falling tears
that claw down her sadden face
there's no escaping the monster
in the crevices of her mind
hovering her deepest thoughts

with no mask concealing the
shadows of her darkened fears
she had no time at all to inhale
dripping wet eyes filled up with
hesitation crying tears of sadness
that has taken over her warm soul

the monster trapping her soul
strangles her with a tightened
noose coated with hurt and pain
its barbwire teeth of darkness
holds her head down very low
chaining her against the wall
she hangs there deep in sorrow
away from the world all alone
reflecting on yesterday's rain

she could not speak; her silence caused
her tears to tumble the damaged thoughts
down every line of the damp pages smudged
with her words of the hurt and pain that
covered every inch of her inside journal

there is true darkness trapping her soul
leading her through a maze of loneliness
causing her to loose the shape of her whole
the young girl she use to be has vanished
leaving her a confused woman living in her
own garden of hell

like paint through bristles
ink is spilling out
of my overfilled pen
bleeding onto the paper

scribbling notes
in a usual cliche
curling my words
hoping they stay

for a weaver of words
I am without any
I couldn't describe
snatches of my sanity

writing is an extension
of the mind and
I am out of mine

when the words are hard to express out loud
or other people just can't seem to understand
I write to release all my anger or frustration
grabbing a pen or a sharpened pencil in my hand
leaving smudged lead or wet ink on my finger tips
scribbling jotting down all the thoughts that attack
conquering my mind trying hard to escape my lips
releasing emotions that pull me down or hold me back
the knotted tongue of confusion is loosen now untied
I'm able to climb out from the depths of the dark pit
grabbing Life's sturdy rope that depression tried to hide

the flight of nature under its feet
embracing and absorbing the world
floating high above in plain sight
singing its lovely song so sweet
spreading its gentle wings so light
soaring through life's wonderful sky
full of desire sailing so gracefully
through the colors of the rainbow
its destination may be unknown
yet with its determination it will fly

a kiss with a gaze
life that will catch
the faded stars

normal qulities
active in the mind
highly above dreams

the soul speaks
fighting to find
a pair of fresh eyes

a peaceful voice can
silently be Loud
yet love is blind

all cards are on the table
nice concepts can get in the way
so beware the wild card  
friends with benefits
if only for a second; smile or frown
the muse of whatever wont stop
flipping choices will still sway

cute,funny, smart
makes you wonder
whats behind the smile
charming, sweet, satisfying
may sooth the urge
for a little while
yet not your cup of tea
not a toy on a string
I've made up my mind
I'm not your play thing
I refuse to waste more
of my precious time
if you love me why wont
you just set me free?

a cry for help and solitude
trapped isolated loneliness
tares in the depths of pain

crying for the past and new
deception despair and hatred
echos in the heart with fear

crying for the lies amd truth
spreading and sparkling light
never letting revenge take over

my heart locked in a lonely rhythm
whistling through a thunder storm
realigning all the stars above
oh how I've felt so all alone
his gentle tender breeze now blown
for I humm bitter dreams no more

a stone castle of beauty
standing on the edge of day
where freedom's spirit lies
a lonely wounded beast
with eyes up to the skies

a dream plain and simple
streams of gentle chills
winds creassing the skin
spreading arms like wings
to jump the tallest hills

singing her melodies of torment
hiding in a chamber of lead
awakened and degenerated
yet no one seemed to care
left lies and lost love
pulling the final thread
the heaven's bled a river of red
from the fall of her severed head

I didn't start the food fight
yet I got hit in the head with a can soda
I'm just glad it was a soft drink
it flew at me like an owl hunting its pray
I now realize that toucan play at this game
I also swallowed some food coloring
I'm OK, but I feel like I've dyed a little inside

I'm leaving you behind
this is our last kiss
and for that I am fine
my past is where you'll be
it was all your fault
it will be me you'll miss
I'm done; finally free
to make something new
it's your lost not mine
Goodbye I'm ride of you

eerie music of the night
creeps rustling through
the falling leaves whistling
the rhythm of the wind

each brittle branch is
tat-tat-tat-tattering a
beat flowing against the
tossed confetti of leaves

natures natural music
is sung every night
but once a year in October
Halloween holds its concert

shadows riddled with creepiness
the eerie flapping of bat wings
not one single star that glow above
nights skies of hovering darkness
in whistling wind brittle trees crackle
nothing but puffs of stale air sings
eyes guarded seeing supersizing fright
in every corner are passing silhouettes
across faces painted mask hang to scare
howling, moans and screams running feet
fooling pranks and gags galore of fun
smiles and laughter from trick or treat
children hunting candy in the night

my soul is alone
and wants to be held
my heart's dispirit moan
beats one ray of hope
for true love is unknown

depression is such a pain
throwing curve ***** of
downfalls in the membrane
my written words has pulled me
from the pits  of the brains pollution
and this I know to be a true fact indeed
"Writing" is the best cleaning  solution

like an old used
dish towel tossed aside
like nothing at all
just hanging there
waiting to fall
stripped from love
rinsed with pain
absorbing the hurt
out comes the rain
what happened to just
leave me behind
there is no answer
to comprehend this
residue I find

many days spent waiting
behind my quiet yet
bitten lips are words
hidden deep entwining
in a special language
the dialect of love
so sweet like wine
capturing my soul
with one sip
just one kiss
from your lips
I'm drunk

been there done that
sitting under a desk
closed in with no leg space
rusted chair wheels
that won't even roll
one wrong push I'll flip out
phone ringing call after call
I'm answering question
so simple to answer
almost time to punch out
clock it ticks yet haven't
moved an inch
intense waiting
thinking positive
I know it must be done
the daily results that's
what pays my bills

a golden mare
strength and power
inspiration and imagination
flowing in rhythm or rhyme
thoughts in words I share
passion moving forward in time
roads of emotions; feelings I stride
paths of decisions; thoughts I ride
experiencing; distance and abilities
within my mind galloping the margins
of my quenching desire written
running wild and free
a golden horse
the perfect palomino of poetry

satisfying, slightly sweet
an orange spindle shape
something enjoyable to eat  
very good for your health
crunchy in every bite
yet full of robust wealth
to improve your eyesight
with a hard and rough texture
it's green bloomed leafy top
helps balance out its flavor
such a great nutrient to savor
diced, grated, wild or raw
shredded even sliced when fresh
in any cookbook there are so may
ways to prepare this delicious and
enjoyable golden orange vegetable

friends are still friends
through words or not
sometimes their words
are all they've got...
letter to letter
they can communicate
a letter of words
can inform a friend
"No I didn't forget
your birth date"
the message just
got to them late
but all in all the
message got through
they might even send
one back to Thank You.

friends are still friends
it doesn't really matter
from distances close or afar
words can be spoken
from wherever you are
typed or even by hand
words can also be written
to or from a friend

letters or poems
of rhythm or rhyme
a friend? to that I say
"sure" a friend I'll be
if you'll be one of mine
a friend.... YIP-EEE !!!
a friend of POETRY

I am afraid to imagine  
I don't know what
could make me happier
to shake the hand of
a new found friendship
to really get to know someone
talk for a while
never judge by looks
or just a pretty smile
what really matters is
whom we find inside  
we have to see whats there
we might be surprised of the
friendships we could share
we have to analyze, ask questions
and take the time to get to know them
yet it's not always easy to open up
never judge their book by its cover
don't over look the qualities
that looks can sometimes hide

his figure standing in the bed room doorway
in such excitement clutching the covers
passing the moonlit window of silver light
that picked up every detail of his bare skin
putting his finger to your lips
whispering "Shhh don't say a word"
climbing in bed pressing his body against yours
sending shivers down your spine
then you woke with a huge smile
his  text then came through....
""I'm always thinking about you""
K--I--S--S--E--S

my thoughts aren't always sublime
my grammar could be right or wrong
trapping my mind; forming a block
where the words might be hard to find
a notebook in my pocket; a pen in my hand
always seeing everything so inspiring
sometimes others can't seem to comprehend
leaving wet ink to dry on my finger tips
dreaming, thinking, jotting down the thoughts
that's conquering my mind trying to escape my lips
being who I am I make writing an everyday task
for there seems to always be something on my mind
to write or not to write is the question to ask

she's not mad at him
she place all blame on herself
they both agreed; only friends with benefits
she can't change the way he feels about her
so why does she put herself directly
in the line of fire

even if it may sooth the urge
for just a little while
maybe she'll add an extra
splash of red or pink
to her lips enticing him
to pucker up

she doesn't want to be alone yet she knows
he is just her imaginary substitute
a fake smile, holding back her tears,
and walking away into her cave of loneliness
will the lights of love ever come on for her
or will she be sitting in the dark forever?

her heart it already knew
she cant hide her tears
once again she's on her own
alone there she swings
all alone there she cries

her heart it already knew
she's hurting from her core
alone carrying this burden
with stress in her heart
again there she swing alone

her heart it already knew
no one's there to comfort her
the only thing for her to do
is swing; swing away the pain
swing just to keep herself sane

her heart it already knew
the swing was not the true
reasons why she sits to cry
this is a special place to think
a place to swing away her worries

here heart it already knew
this was a world of her own
to swing; swing away the pain
here her swinging helps to erase
the stress causing her heart strain

broke her heart did he
there was no time to think
was it her fault thought she
a glass of ***** was her drink
was it the glass that he forebid
or the slip of her tongue and sadden face
for told a huge lie is what she did
her heart in her ears poundin at a fast pace
tears ran down her cheeks from her eyes
she dare not look at him any more
for it was him that she despize
that's what she was drinking for

a false clay mask
covers clenched faces
hoping the edges wont break
held together by the cracks
of the bitten lips
a single drop of pain
reignite the agony
for silent it wont remain
behind the quiet yet heavy
mind full of deep confusion
black clouds of frustration
overlaps the screams of the
crying heart