Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Her little fingers gripping mine.
Her cry like little whispers to my heart.
Those blue eyes staring up at me.
She is my sunshine, my only sunshine.
My beautiful rose.
If only in a dream, I know that she is mine.
She is my sunshine, my only sunshine.
They show up in the most inconvenient of times.
They bring smiles, but they also bring tears.
So many smiles, so many tears.
I see you now. Jokes are made.
Some playful and innocent.
Most like a knife through my heart.
I do not know when we became this.
I do not know how we went from what we were to what we are.
Poetry and long nights, perfume and smiles.
Now it just hurts. For you, for me.
Wanting to try to keep what little we have left.
Building up those walls that crumbled between us before.
The past is in the past. We cannot rewrite history.
We never had the chance to be just friends.
I suppose that is why we cannot see what that would be.
I miss the way I could let you see the dark side of me.
The dark side that no other human could ever or would ever see.
I do not wish to recreate the mess that we so often fell into.
I do not wish to wreck what little goodness we still have.
I still love you, I always will.
We will always have the memories that ******* us so.
Someday we may heal, someday we may smile.
Smile without the hurt, without the tears.
It was only a year ago.
A beginning and an end in the blink of an eye.
I was a mess, but so were you.
I have been in love before,
but my heart has only ever beat that fast with you.
You make me so frustrated
and I know that I annoy you.
I realize that at the very least the timing was all wrong.
At the very most, we were all wrong together.
Some people dream of a love that drives them crazy,
We had (have) that and it took no time at all.
A tragedy is what this has become.
We both deserve better; we both desire better.
Yet still there are nights when you are on my mind.
Those nights I only want one thing,
I want to go back to the poetry and long nights.
Sometimes, I wonder if you ever want that too.
I wish that I could know what you see when you look at me now.
I love seeing you laugh again.
I want you to be happy and I want that laugh to live on.
That light in your eyes,
I pray it never fades.
The most beautiful man I have ever met.
So perfectly imperfect.
A crazy mess of thoughts, this may be.
How else would I describe us though?
"So why are you painting a woman in a bottle?"
The challenge. Handling all those quirky reflections and layers of transparency.

"She has phantom arms and legs, what about that?"
Yes, pretty cool. A Vitruvian woman in a bottle. *

"I'm looking for Meaning: Don't paintings look under the surface?"
You mean, what does it mean, really mean? It's just a way to test my skill.

"But what are you saying with that?"
It's not feminist nor anti, it's just an exercise. Besides, there's a rope.

"But aren't you, as an artist, exposing reality, presenting emotions and feelings, seeing the soul?"
I'm not on a soapbox-- I'm testing my skill-- I paint and don't think about it too much. After all, 'Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar' or is it 'just a smoke'?

"I don't like your message."
OK, I'll paint you in a bottle...
As a shrunken head.
On the other hand, I once painted an agricultural scene based on a photo from the 1930s that I thought carried a social message. Most people wanted to know what kind of tractor it was.
If we were two books who happened to cross covers
Or over lap tittles,
In a momentary lack of structure
You would find us stacked back to back
As unlikely as a tragedy with star struck lovers..
Happened upon the other
in a library archiving
Written word and lives, and eons worth of soft
Text typed,

I would be a book of Russian poems
Roughly speaking of beautiful things,
With a bare textured cover, a soft sea foam green.
And you would be lost in the meaning,
In the reflections of your wealth
I would give you all the answers you hide inside your self,

You would be of another breed,
Your italic headings speaking of vastly different things,
You would show a thousand places I wish to know,
With a hundred hand drawn maps
Filled to the indentation with
realities greater than my own imagination
with pictures
That capture you, whisper liberation,
You would be the inspiration every trapped
lower class individual looks upon while dreaming up
Vacation homes.
You are the window to the places everyone
Everyone wants to know
Your pages crisp but warm, smelling of vanilla
Not a single scuff, crease, you are not torn.
A soft Carmel brown cover where
A hundred careful fingers hover.

You are probably thinking we don’t belong together.
Not in a library alphabetized and
Split into sections,
Good thing great librarians
Know better, she
Stole us and set us together in her own
Private collection.
There is no where I fit better than
Next to you, pressed cover to cover,
we are becoming  a story of
unlikely lovers,
We are best friends,
Penned from different ink
Speaking different themes
Resting between book ends designed
Out of clever minds set out to
To fuzz the line between actuality
And your aspiration,
We are just the perfect combination of
Drive and a dream,
The fact you are here means something
And the more I read the more it seems
Together we'll achieve great things.
There’s no need to cut me open,
Sit still for just a moment  
and I will show you my scars,
If you want to see them,
You can compare them to yours,
Our stories
Are very different
And I’m not going to pretend like to know me
You have to always be my friend,
Take me for whatever it is you wanted to
Stay as long as you wish
And leave when you don’t.
Show me what you want to let me know
And see what I have to say
Don’t give me empty promise

Do not promise me you’ll stay.
And I will learn something of you and
Find something in myself,
Maybe even something I couldn’t find in anybody else

And I will be grateful
But I will miss you when you’re gone
And soon enough another lonely
Will finally come along
And look at me and see themselves.

And I will say quickly before they cut me with there tongue…
There’s no need to cut me open,
Sit still for just a moment
and I will show you my scars,
If you want to see them,
You can compare them to yours,
Our stories
Are very different
And still very much the same,
If you question if you’re crazy
That’s a sign that your still sane.

Are you looking for validation?
Are you looking for the truth?
Are you looking for a person
To guide you on the way,
Are you looking for a promise
that someone here will stay?
Are you even asking questions or
are you just floating along
Blaming your surroundings
For the things that go all wrong?
I would like to know the answers
To all the questions I can ask
And of the ones you’ll answer
Ill paint the pictures of my future,
And Ill illuminate my past.
And in this grand adventure
I’ll make your answers last.

So just know
There’s no need to cut me open,
Sit still for just a moment  
and I will show you my scars,
If you want to see them,
You can compare them to yours,
Our stories
Are very different
But we are all the same
We just call our daemons
Very different things
And know in our disclosure
Ill never say a name.
Falling in love is easy
Apparently I am inherently designed
To fall with my head over my heels.
It has been said I fall

I fell in love with deep confessions
And soft whispered conversations
That painted the inside of my mind and
Interior of your truck
And filled our favorite parking spaces
beyond capacity

Then things got interesting
Because when
We explored each other
we did it  safely
Comparing every metaphorical scar
And the depths of our tenacity.
Exploring the carnage that existence in this world
inevitably leaves behind
We changed each other’s minds
We sought each other’s faces in the same urgency
We fled from our fears.
For years
You showed me it is possible to lend the ones you love a little space
While denying them distance.
You are a persistence I aspire to.

While you listened I found a lot of things
In those beautiful brown eyes.
Some things I can’t explain
Some designed
to change the way I conceive my name ,
Made in innocence and in complete sincerity
To make me find a bit of clarity
on what I’m worth
And what I deserve
I was falling
And you called with arms open
Speaking patience through your somber eyes
Suddenly soft spoken,
In all these years you refused to let circumstance
change what we had always been,
It was in the claim of best friend
And the way you never flinched
At my weakness never scoffed at my fears even when we both know
They were always so different from yours.  

It emerged slowly,
As I fit under your arm,
Under your palm when you wiped my tears
In quivering voices in urgent phone calls,
In the constant rebuilding
When I was lost you refused to lose me
Surly this should cost me something,
But it continued to cost me nothing,

You confessed I pay you in my smiles
You made me think I was beautiful
Because you complete me..
And I have never seen something
as astounding and breathtaking as your face
I could trace it all day
My handsome man
My very best friend
You so often lend me your sanity
Even when your disappointed
Even when you are mad at me.
I promise I will always try with all I have to offer
To give you what you have given me.
Even when you falter
even when your whispering
"Tearani I've lost me."
just know your home
and I'll never leave you falling.
This is me, I am who I am..
Every day I give all I can..
I'm not a gangster, but I'm a fighter
both with my fists and as a writer
I am the dark poet.. quietly killing on the lyrical scale,  
Edgar Allan Poe-etic is my poison, injected and inhaled
willingly taken, slowly destroying me from the inside out
making my veins blaze within me so that my blood cells shout
my heart beat slows as the affliction eats away almost as if to say
to drop rhymes upon the beat, slowly symphonic, deathly harmonic
Or rather perhaps, along the lines of pure demonic.
Lyrically woven into my blood, I cannot help but bleed.
Music has shaped me into the man I am, seeing in depth what you could not believe
I've seen wondrous nightmares and beautiful wastelands, you couldn't possibly conceive
The wilderness heart beating in my chest has made me a beast of a writer
For even in the darkest of my days my writings are always lighter.
Doomsdays upon apocalypses, Dragons among faeries, each of these I've dreamed
I cannot begin to explain the sheer epicness of these things I have seen.
Lyrically woven into my blood, I cannot help but bleed.
sleep away the sickness
sleep away the pain
sleep away your problems
and never be the same
sleep away the worry
sleep away the fear
sleep away the darkness
and always keep me near
This post is concerning Tallenge recruiters/spotters/whatever. The whole thing is a scam unfortunately. Read this DA post if you are still uncertain
Next page