Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Aug 24 · 312
Fasting
I am not liberated; I’ll be drinking till I’m free
Dancing like a puppet; a puppet with no strings
If this is the land of promise; promise that none
Of the promises have skipped me

Do not assume that it’s over, to consume your  
Self-worth to just presume that you’re sober  
To close your eyes, to feel your joy coming closer
I do not amuse the fact of getting older, or overlook
The fact that the world is close to being over

Here is the past, images of your youth running past
Memories of it all, live as long as you last, be careful
Not to be chasing the pleasures of it, as chasing after lust
Take a secret fast; cleanse yourself of the regrets that
Have come past
Aug 24 · 72
Sip
Sip
And as the dreams start to haunt you;
· · · · · ·there’s no yielding result
Turning off the lights to your eye’s house
living in a sensual cold heat; cutting away
the old pieces of yourself— tailor trimmed
New memories **** the old ones supreme,
the sweetest ones sting the cheeks, as with
· · · · · ·chocolate, and sweet vanilla cream

But a joy to us, still as a cup filled to the brim
on a sweet journey to love; enjoying every thrill
Thrusting trust on a slippery road, perfect to slide
into Dm’s— one has their risk of trust

Dust is like a cloud on the road
· · · · · ·too blind to see the form of rust
In your dry bones; a burning desire burst,
on a road to and a must, of you pouring out your
strategy, and letting them tell you if it’s worth a shot
They’ll drink everything about you- all in machine
of your sweetness from within

· · · · · ·Tell me what would they get from the first sip?
Aug 24 · 45
Yourself
Hot breathes; oxygen starts to fire up by two
Everywhere, their mouth’s turn into flames
Palm rubs; tightly gripped affections as you
Hope to find the inner depth of your open heart
Close your eyes, as fine skin pulses towards touch
Something close, to something worth love’s friction

The reason in your eye’s blood glottal quiet stares
Are the shares of two voices, while kissing in a song
Piling up all of your emotions towards a love stack
So in touch with regrets; that’s why you hide your hands
You walk under trees, to shade those who try to follow

In the hopes that in even in the dark, there’s a flower
Tears flow out like blood from a wound- stanched
By how long you have to cry; gushing out scars
Everywhere, is a loud place to truly be yourself
Still, believe in your self-worth, precise to yourself
Aug 22 · 381
Nature is accomplishment
Life before man; the peace and creation of nature
a cloud for every eager striving flower- inhabitants
of a creek; precious stones dressing the stream’s bed
Distant cousins to sea pebbles, bond to a long year
The once great might of ancient forests; swallowing
empty valleys of earth, in their timeless brilliance
of nature

Quiet rains that are like wiping tears from the sky’s
picturesque face; to the joys of grass that hungers
The brightness of today, pours through the walls
of tomorrow’s marrow- an endless returning light
And grand spotlight to the shadows we see, and
the shadows within. Pieces of ourselves revealed
to us

Human life, under the source of day- gives an
endless revealing, of the destiny we must accomplish.
Chapter 1: Evening

Your attire is a thin veil; underneath the silk
is a reach within my arms, to grace a warm touch
passion's burning flame, that can make snowflakes
melt away so fast

Romance, over all parts of your attractiveness
tall, shapely, and sturdy— as my presence is in
the presence of a jungle, for an Amazon queen
Once warmed, from head to toes, fingertips,
to lips galore; quiet conversations that eyes speak
of love so deep and fulfilling

Eager breaths thrown back in my face, also, the love
I keep safe, so carefully, cautiously; secretly locked
away in a heart cuddle you warm, wrap you as a blanket
that provides the body’s heat

Chapter 2: Morning

How would you shepherd a tongue into speaking
the heart’s deepest secrets— at early morn underneath
the rainy skies; I will wake you. As the clouds grow
heavy, and heavier; the slightest sunlight parts them
open, as perfect affections open you wide.

Sprung out perfectly; an inviting posture, there
where you reside— kisses that fall like the rain
Downward falling; your love a juicy fruit, that will
eventually fall- ripen my eyes to feast on your desires
As we’re both lost in the warming memories of this
blanket’s sun

Chapter 3: Afternoon

I think about the rain that fell on your hair,
those tiny bouncing raindrops on your coat-
Coating the memory in such a raging joy;
as the gaze of noon, painted your honest form
A man formulating his words to a first meet;
hoping it may not be short lived

A tongue ensnared by its own words, trying to
savour the novelty of my excitement, all the
pleasures and first feeling— that sensual honey
of our first moment, alone together

The eve is looming over our eyes, for this day
do not chase it, as I’ll catch you by your skin
Gain that glance of a climactic prelude into
another restful resolution of a long night
As the stars are dressed with light; and I sit
with these thoughts on my mind, of how you’ll
choose to dress yourself tonight…
Aug 21 · 53
Mutt
Communication of commotion;
       bumping heads of opinions- so many worlds
in your eyes I see; stuck at a perception like a

Love at first sight; losing time in your hair,
       losing lips that speak love, by the heap of flesh
around your rib; a watchful gaze, as your
       perfect eye stalker:
Ripping pieces of your sky away
                   as a skyscraper
· · · · · ·kissing, as pestering flies
swatting away any ideas of
                              maybe falling in love

Fly across oceans, a domestic star- pet names
  that would offend a dog, we’re more
******* with each other; that the territory marked
               is just a dry bark- as we bite and chew
· · · · · ·each other out. Still, I’ll be as loyal as a dog
to find a means to cheer you up; crossbreeding
love and quiet hate, for the pedigree of us.
            
You will stay cherished, as my first love
Aug 21 · 43
Apart
Feelings in charge, emotions made of lead
An attraction for passion; turned over itself
-An action of retraction; to a fearful heart
Of once again fearing the feeling of falling
In love

Time is the glue for a once broken heart
There’s never enough of it- love helps to heal
But where does one’s present day, get it from
Your lover is gone; the L for love is lost, for
It’s over

Memories cross a mind, burning the bridges
Makeshift labyrinth of emotions- lost in them
Years of cold needing; seeking, unfeeling
Socially unappealing; a ligament stripped
A holding hand to that feeling of love, so out

Of touch for that rush; a crush that becomes
A liking, a liking that becomes love, love that
Becomes us; it’s all apart now…
Aug 21 · 39
Her verse pt 3
Carrying a fair number of tears, like carrying
a baby on her back; a nurturing bath of her scars
like a cat that is licking its new-born. She sits on top
of pride, quickly as humbleness calls a benchmark

Finding myself in the uncharted depths of her heart;
I see the cooling effect of one’s tears in mirrored streams
My nocturnal beauty, that must be loved in the shadows;
hiding away the bags of eyes, in the masks of pretty eyeshadow

She's priceless to every penny for a thought, she buries
all of her words, in kisses engraved in a passionate time

Pieces of a heart made out of yarn- narrations of silver tears,
from golden eyes; bronze is her place in seeking blessings
A hard rock, that is made soft by her gaze; water springs
out of it… but she’s only loved by herself after she’s loved
everyone else
Aug 20 · 230
The Untouched
All are born to shine; I tread the earth with grace
Feeling the weight of sorrows, as life does trace  
In her embrace, I find both pieces of pain & care
Her silent whispers, weave a cloak, one so rare

As the walls, like rivers, tell of the shifts inside
An echoing pulse where my true self does bide
An unseen force tugs at my heart's deeper seam
In the soft, dark tear, I find all fears in a dream

A tempest stirs within my soul, a voice confined
Yearning to escape, to maybe soar, to be defined
Through trials faced, I’ve brushed away the grime
Preserving my spirit, as if its untouched by time.
Aug 20 · 127
Clay face Poet
I am the Clay, moulded from the tiny grains
Like a farmer of stars, tending to life's plains
My mission is to nurture, to heal every soul
The embrace of my essence; find your whole
  
I flow through existence, a canvas for flight
I lift you to heights, into the boundless light
With each gentle fall, I’ll breathe a life anew,  
From the depths of my spirit, I offer to you

I’ll give of myself, so your spirit won't wane  
Dwell in my heart, find solace from my pain
Aug 20 · 507
Starvation
Starved breaths for time, and I’m so hungry for air
As the sky offers these familiar breathless chambers
A cool taste of a drink in the ashes of a cigarette kiss,
My throat hungers for rain, and I must swim in this-
Fathomless ocean, drawing from blood mixed as ink

The picture of words stings under my salty wounds
A few inches above the bottom of depression, I hover
Saints gather by a curve of faith, of a bend in history;

Truly it’s a mystery, to acknowledge a scent of victory
To see your purpose fully naked, of revealing a destiny
Even though, tonight I enter these years flowing past,
The land’s path we all follow; I grow hungry more so
To be fed with any more time to fully experience it all
Harsh are these words, but what great Truth doesn’t hurt a little:
the promises of people today, will only be the hurt for you tomorrow,
the debt that people owe you, is often paid by the words of a forgotten
promise; even for all the love you hope to give out- its only by
a wishful wish, that you’ll get your fare share back,

There’s a note to take of the friends that will let down you,
those family members who will discard you, all the people who
will critic you, the love of past lovers that will break you, the words
that make you a victim, said from those who want to play bigger victims;
the good you so desperately try to do, to get so much bad in return,

To those you put all of your trust in, some can be trusted to
hurt and wound you, the sun will be your spotlight on top your fears,
the moon will cry with you in silence, the bath water will account for
all your tears, the snakes will sing you praises with a jagged smile,
life will chastise you; hope will forget you sometimes, time will question
you each day, age will starve you of youth, the living will grow intolerant
during your time of mourning, as death will forever remain patient for you…

                                                          These are but just life’s great Truths.
Aug 19 · 153
Farewell
Farewell, my beloved paradox,
that will forever linger in my thoughts and heart.
The memory of your captivating fragrance,
distinct and unmistakable, will forever stay with me,
patiently anticipating your fateful reunion- that I long
for with every fibre of my being. Come not so hurriedly,
yet in time- so as to have the gentle cadence of your footsteps
linger delicately in the passing hours.

Although the whispers of your presence evade my ears,
your essence reunites with mine once more. Across alternate
lifetimes, where fate doesn't guarantee romantic interlacing,
my affection for you transcends as a steadfast companion,
devoted beyond the confines of romantic love.
Aug 19 · 54
Self joke
The endless nights bring
Fleeting dreams beneath the Moon's soft glow,  
While laughter in the sunlight has
Scorched my skin, in such a late playful woe,  
For joy has danced upon my heart,
Too bright, too bold, and too free,  
And in mirthful moments,
I have found the humour deep in me.
Aug 19 · 214
Falling into place
Falling…
into place, of everything we yearn to do;
-falling in love as the rain falls down
From every crevice of your most secret and private parts
heavy cravings to be touched, yearning for the warmth
and intimacy that only you and I can share.

The weather outside seems cold
as you lay upon a bed soft as a cloud,
inviting us to sink into its comforting embrace
There’s a succulent wetness, a shiver of anticipation
that races down your spine.

You are a mesmerizing portrait of ephemeral beauty
that dazzles my senses and leaves me breathless
Your image lingers in my thoughts
as we exhale the heat from our mouth’s chamber
the pleasure to my yearning lips upon yours;
In such a thought: smiling, knowing all is falling into place.
Aug 18 · 112
Unlocked
Moments together, are whispers of poetry:
the blush of your smile, like blooms raising their
faces under bright the sun. That tender embrace,
lingers briefly on my lips, within the constraints
of it feeling like a haiku.

Their sweetness becomes fleeting memories; a struggle
to capture- not to keep thinking about it long after
I’m on a quest, fervently seeking sustenance in the form
of love and affection. Tears dripping, as a gardener’s rake,
trying to bring in evoking emotions, that resonate deeply
within my soul.

The covering of a tough persona, is now like jackets
that are discarded- through gloved hands, a palm still holds
onto the memory of your love. And no cold seeps out;
a spring in my step, that dance through my thoughts
Morning shivers soon vanish, once of a closed heart, as its
doors were slammed- jammed!

“Do you possibly have that
right key to have it unlocked”
Aug 18 · 272
Crushed
The sun surprisingly reflects against
your yellow dress; barrier languages between us both
Old memories of such a coy smile; your love’s rarity
and royalty are trimmed with so much purple
Tired old bones desperately trying to pop back in place,
under the sunshine popping out to cheer me up
When it chooses to appear from out of the clouds;
it’s flashing that skirt once more.

Embracing your love while plunging deeper into the
silent sea of solitude: it’s a struggle to stay afloat,
The thankless night calls out for weary souls- feeling
abandoned in their search for solace; as the sanctuary of
angels seem to drift further away. Isolation and despair
that fills the night air.

It feels distant and elusive; trying to find those words
to express one’s love for another- even in their comforting
presence; all the words are quietly leaving them
Adding to the overwhelming sense that it only gets harder
knowing what to do, after you confess your love to a crush.
Behind the eyes of tv screens-
they’re busy watching us Netflix & chilling
Let’s binge on kisses until every show finds its end
show of hands if you’ve been searching for that
touch of love, that makes you fall in love again, and again…

Her eyes are like petals, that open up to me
as my words are the splash of love that helps her grow
She holds onto me like a dream you hope never to forget
inside my head, I imagine fulfilling her every wish that
requires a bed…
Aug 17 · 128
Welcome
A thousand acres of land, beautifully crying-
their grasses shimmering in the rains after dampness
Tails of shapely evergreens; plants undressed and robust
seed heads, beguiling death- buried in the means of finding self

Folios upon the wings of fowls;
as towels hang on the rails of the skies, as perfect white clouds
The dust of the sun, covers asbestos rooftops in a light brown;
darkness wears a frown, on the faces of people who patrol around
the nights, of doing their personal business without an innocent sound
Soulmates of stars crash into each other, each time they're falling in love-
in and out, is the hunger for any more time; both for the belly buttons
that go in and out

Kisses of dreams for bare bones: bending over to a bent red sky;
a sheepish lover to the shepherd’s delight- still a bit shy, from a child
My door opens to one’s suggestion; hangs a welcome sign on a string
…welcome to the house of my mind; please don’t stay awhile.
Aug 17 · 978
Life in the day of a bee
Busy as much; busy as a bee
serving sweet remarks to a Queen
The hours are long, and we’re always
swarming with activity

Everyday business is always so sweet, and
even given a pet named— the retirement
package for it though, kind of stings

Every colleague of mine seems to know
what’s the buzz; and our clientele do carry a
good scent- something like flowers

…just another day for the life of a bee
Aug 17 · 273
Devil’s assistant…
As much, in every man’s eye- eroticism brings excitement,
the lines of wrinkled sheets are a retreat without restraint
Every one of our kisses tastes like they matter; we flatter
each other on playing it casual— until anticipated and complete
She is no less than a queen; she sits on my thrown, ruled by these
words- all the shells of the shots I’ve shot; whenever we're around
we stain the ground; inhaling a bit of hell, with every bad habit

Moisture: more so to the reply of, “yes sir”
her tears echo soothing rain, but these tired red eyes don't see
much love- but still when it comes to touch; I'm filled with ideas
by her flood. Words keeping on flowing; but my regards to any
authority, I've been living lawlessly - against her authority

Old habits can’t really die when they pass,
even as an *** shakes backwards, with all the regrets to take
me back to my past. You can still taste a lot of things much harder
to swallow than your pride— that burning heat of passion, from
your mouth’s chamber: an abode of sweet remembrance
Now, as we must, not discuss about the label of us- in a nutshell
the conversation changes tone after someone’s nut is bust
****, how rough is that- we played a role to work ourselves
out of lust. We call each other, our Devil’s assistant…
Aug 16 · 314
Care package
Everything will become nothing; snuggling closely
To all those days much brighter than yesterday
Running out of places to hide my shadow- a rush hour
Of emotions, hoping not to get stuck in more traffic
Laying on the sofa, putting a lot of thoughts in place
While she does so too, re-arranging her wig; sipping on cola
Weaving, adoring words to say at little speaking volumes;
Channelling together those gentle souls; generally speaking
Of how her tears sink away into the grass, like thirsty water
Thursday nights, where I’m planning to disappear into the earth
Folding into old habits with origami precision; time’s prison
Is feasting on me for dinner, and I’m drinking myself thinking
I don’t appreciate the time you and I spend together
But I argue with myself about it, when you’re only away

And it’s funny, how I’d pretend not to care;
Now here is the man who cares enough when you’re not there
Aug 14 · 93
Ode to a tree
Oh, is the sweet and delicate embrace; such a tight
and warm hug, but it had smashed my bouquet of flowers.
I picked you out of the bunch; I wandered down a forest trail
brushing with death- a kiss by her lips. And around me, was the
sight of your experienced skins; carpeted with yellow leaves, blessed
by the caressing sun. The cool of your eyes- is a walk by the lagoon,
your warm bud of tears falls into my eyes, and swell it up, to bloom.
The Sun rules over our lives, that Moon quietly covers our pain with
those nights of laughter; the canopy of our dreams, quietly fall away
as like the leaves. My tongue bares roots, and my words do try to promise
flowers- with every saturated thought, shaped out as petals opened wide.
The first time I saw it, I was entirely unaware of what waited below my lows.

To— step out of myself, was the place our story had begun. And to this,
each tree I see around me, reminds me of you- the first tree I as a child,
were brave enough to climb.
Aug 14 · 73
The Covering
My thought’s nature is so chain-free; though when
it comes to missing links of love [I’m so incomplete]
A love for you, locked by the links we’ve made; we are
slaves to each other, and I know it sounds shameless in its
message relayed; still from the sound of your voice, there’s
something in the air- with the pauses in between conversations;
All the invitation of the opportunity to kiss each other, to clear
out that awkward air

Before birth and afterwards, I seem passionate over your touch
as like a youth- waiting to take your hand and speak for us
whenever the ask if we’re in love. And in the soil, I’ve buried my heart,
still feelings of it are so light, that they all grow out with delight
Our laughter spreads across the land of a bedspread, and their little
giggles in between, are like daisies sticking out on the lawn
So, if we bury all our memories in the wrinkled sheets-
our beds are our graves; that could remember far better, with their
memory foam mattress [Darling, I will cover you]
Destined; your eyes are painted out as the map of life; as no night
convinces my tomorrow to look away from the destination you
inspire me to take- your love is a buried treasure, and my words
mark it with an X;- not as the many exes I once treasured in the
promise of a forever after [it was more of a pipe dream]

As it goes on, this art of falling in love; I’m only now getting
a grip of the bigger picture;- it’s larger and larger, swelling up
my eyes, to as always be blinded by love- the lovebug’s bite,
so smitten, but squished by childish designs; us as children
imagining our perfect kind of lives, when we used to play house
Packed away hopes in an imaginary bag; let a night open that
suitcase- to imagine ourselves living together until our ages
are much visible in our own hands

Those firm and beautiful kisses, get ruined over many soft decades;
as the trace of my fingertips, feels like cheap clay on your skin-
My warm regarded touch, fills your cheeks in chill of morning breeze
When you fail to see your reflection, once from the shyness of
your lashes eyes opening;- where you can only hear someone else’s
voice reading through the Song of Songs. Our time together, is all
destined to be gone- so let’s enjoy what we have now, for how
long it comes
Aug 9 · 193
Friends
Imposed by a scent of the back chatter,
behind the air of the hair tucked by your ear
once a soul that was merely an imposter
The intense pleasure continues on- waking up
to the sound of dawn; under the thinnest of clouds
thin as butter- as the sunlight spreads across
The edge of their world; as like two legs spread apart
with a promise of a night filled with wet love
Two lips are meeting in the yellow shivers, beneath
the huge gems of eyes, that hold out a jewelled pleasure

The two resting upon a bed made out of barley;
filled in intoxicating lines of brand-new sheets-
The smell of regret only shows as the rise of after cigarettes
The towers of greying tired eyes; numb under the tomb’s
excrete- the cold breathes of kissing with a cold heart,
lifts the fur of a lion’s haunches

***** buckled by the belt wrapped around one’s desire
at another attempt- it’s no stranger, then the grave on
the tongue of a perfectly dead conversation
And about then, he wonders how could he go back to
the past, once where they were just casual friends…
Aug 8 · 132
Love till death
Let our memories be as gravestones;
we’d have traded in marriage certificates
for graduation certificates- place on top love and roses
Roses and tears, have gained the sweetest refrain
oh darling, forever entwined shall we always remain

Pleasingly chiselled marble slabs
every piece of our love story lettered in gold
Death makes us shrouded sleepers; beings barely
warmer than the essence of life and truest love
Love is to sacrifice self, with no intention of gain
the love ballet it is; dancing as heads of concrete bodies
I’ll lead ahead, the way into Heaven if I must go first,
as you always mattered more in the first place
Dead beneath all of our loved ones, still in an afterlife
we will live to fall in love again…
Aug 8 · 76
Sundays pt 2
Authoritarian control; manipulated religion
masked in a subtle political ideology
Commonly those who don’t exalt or lift high
thy name- but are so good at tell an enchanting story
To store up their pockets with the
materials of your lonely pocket
10% of a dollar, is more 100% of what you owe
to receive a prophet word

Welcome to the modern world, with all these
mega corporations; oops,
I mistook them for megachurches

“Do not commit ****** sin,” still there’s the
modern churches more interested on body counts
I have horrific flashbacks of feeling claustrophobia
in the arousing curiosity of people being drawn
by an attractive conference poster
Places well establishment, to establish the
dangers of following the words of false prophets
Aug 4 · 70
Coffe head
a sky made of perfect diamonds
i cut my eyes trying to dream of being high
-so above in momentary bliss, that i forgot i
was actually afraid of heights
perhaps hovering over the bottom lost in my past;
knowing not all things have a time to last
lost in the past, yet, not stranded
i landed on the runaway of the lovers above me
chasing after that familiar phantom of love, to keep
me company

a lot of the times it’s an unattained aspiration
a cup of tea to spill the drink, that leaves a sweet
taste of one last kiss- listening, with the deaf ear
sacrificing everything, but in the end the tea party
of love, would never really invite this coffee head
Aug 4 · 50
The chasm
There’s a hole in a heart; like a chasm yawning
its someone so tired of filling themselves up
on pleasures- a walking cane of illusions- guided
by life’s many misapprehensions

Delusions of a mind’s coy mistress, engulfing me
with distress; you refuse to die, even in my heart’s
relapsed silence
a fathomless ocean of solitude

The magnitude of which is me, being tired of
loving with no results- living in the livelihood
that certain people you care for will leave stains
in your recently organized house
Still let me move onto another place, like the old
blossom in the breeze
Even as that yawning chasm starts to squeeze;
I won’t feel it up with things not received from the prayers
on my tired knees
Aug 4 · 47
Cup of tears
Cheers to the mute tear on a cheek;
pass around that bitter sweet drink
That hits you hard right after the first sip
-the best flavour of it, is the odour of your past,
Fill up a heavy glass; get lost in the vestige of its spell
you’re high on most of your regrets, can’t you tell?

With a smile and delight, I swallow the poison
with such quick and heightened joy for the night
A bottle full of clear white, to erase all fears on the dot,
like a brand new pen, my first tip does leave a spot
I tipped the top, to embrace me as someone successful
just for those fleeting years- and now after in fame’s fall
I have all but a glass full of my tears.
The memory of so many pretty faces;
The forgetfulness of most of their names is my
Responsibility to claim. And the world is truly small
Whenever those stranger’s faces, once again come my way

The older woman is, “aunty,” the wiser man has to be everyone’s
“Good uncle.” “Sir or Madam,” to politely and professionally say,
I wasn’t paying much attention the first time you gave your name

Peers are referred to as, “bra.” “My brother,” to fellow church goers,
To faithfully say we’re all children of the Lord- why do we need to use
These earthly names at all. “My beautiful sister,” just to avoid any
Confrontation- then leave me to go online to do my research, when
I finally get home
Jul 31 · 434
Love's Finances
These feelings are like a credit card---
sliding in and out the machine of a man’s heart

Please enter your code:
to withdraw the worth of love, but I’m really not someone
To bank on all of your love- it’s a result of nothing;
sometimes feeling so fake, with this plastic debit card

INSUFFICIENT FUNDS not all of us can afford
the worth to love; so insecure much, not one to close
the deal; don’t come too close, don’t give me a long hug
Just like my card, I might loudly decline your very love…

Hiding the pin to my very heart- four digit requirements;
four reasons you need to give me, to be revealing ****
Or did I mean to say sheet; either way, its all a cover to
cover around the fact I have a ****** mindset about love

A love I never bought, but I did buy a bunch of its dreams
-it must explain why I’m feeling so broke nowadays
Jul 31 · 182
Funeral Songs
Songs to a funeral;- a love they’ll caper to those
Who will use you, leave you when a conclusion is reached-
Bury you a hero without a cape; that seems to be a reach;
Sending you off with a eulogy and a good enough preach
Praises with sweet remarks; devour your memory like a peach

To those who only lived to tear your heart, who will shed tears,
But don’t expect it to be something so dear from their heart
You’ll lose your dignity, in their gossip during the after lunch
While you’re stuffed in a box, they’ll stuff leftovers in a lunchbox
Those you had owed, will be quick to call you a sly dead fox

They’ll wage wars, over all of your once questioned clothing
Claim it’s a war of their love, in a false sense they’ll hide
They’ll pose as friends, in pictures snipped for their timeline
Speak of all the good times they never shared, with a big smile
Say all of the goods things that you’d never hear as a reward
Cry for you not to go- during a service where they are so bored

And you too, will be so bored of such a song for your send off
-So funny that death can bring to life, the worst side of us all
Lost in a waiting room of inspiration to come; addicted to every
piece of word- a narcotic artist. He feels worthless each time his
pen is pointless; point less into the time it takes to come up with
an attractive opening line- does she even spread happily for him
anymore- does he still have the charms to call up a pretty poem?
Brushing her face against his canvas, his hand strokes are slow,
word by word- craving her attention to fall flat on a sheet of lines;
pausing to see that always pleasing shape of letters, curve by curve

“Please don’t curve me my love” he goes- he implores her again,
and again- soothing her with the confidence of it being a two-sided
experience; desperately trying to stimulate that passion between them
back to life, again. Searching for her sweet nectar of words; but like a
beehive, she’s sometimes defensive. So he decorates the scene with
violets, to distract themselves away from the picture of violence

An attempt to spout free the nectar of literary passions, as writing
the perfect poem is gently picking up a flower- attempting to have
its petals open wide. “So spread open my jubilant flower— we’ll
have any astounding story to tell the whole world tomorrow…
Jul 29 · 203
Debt 2
I’ve got:
Horns for thoughts; and feelings that are for the vague
Glass for eyes, their tears are just old memories of dreams
A nose exhaust, blowing hot smoke to cool off the engine
A beard of grass; hoping the waters of time helps it grow

I’ve got:
A void for a smile; a darkness that quietly hides away in the pit
Quiet lips made out of violin strings; a humble refrain to play
A mighty sword for words, with a bold voice so cutthroat
And each breath is ******; being an inch of one’s lost vanity

I’ve got:
Wrists like a heavy grey cloud; a sleeve that can easily bleed
Fingers made of needles; an unfortunate hold pinned to the present
Denim for skin; the dyed hues of generations stuck in my genes
Moss for a heart; a love only by the surface- no seeds to grow

I’ve got:
Bones made out of dust; can’t clean the stain of sin by myself
Ginger in my soul; aromatic- filled with a vigour of liveliness
But this body is so meagre; so eager to find new means to grow
But I don’t own a piece of it, at all- I’ve borrowed it for a time,
An agreement with life; as sleep is the middleman and death
Is the Great debt collector…
I heard that your summer was coming
So late; so you kept all of your covers
Hidden eyes; you never really cry in public
You fed yourself lies, so much so- so hard to stomach

Your fingers are tired, you fought your battles
As a keyboard warrior; he gave you no reply
And you wondered why; seeing how love is so blind
You’re the only one hurting- it doesn’t see both sides

Still hoping your love was a Gemini-
Both equal pairs, to love each other better
If you were both like each other; but his response is
So cold, so it will be a while for your love to find its summer
.
.
.
.
.
.
Tell me what season is your love?
Jul 28 · 330
Debt
Bound by time, blinded by love

Decorated in flesh; for this present moment-
And by the end of a lifetime, we’ll be unwrapped
Out of that box, as the souls to rise up to Heaven above

Still, I cannot sit and watch over days
That would never show interest to watch over me
Days have taught me that a broken heart puts itself
On great guard, and that which remains patiently quiet
During hate, is a brave heart always choosing love

And we could all live together, but often die alone
Mourning our memory together, but neither of the
***** secrets you’ve kept, shall be a burden for
Any of the living, forced in somebody's debt, to own
Jul 27 · 152
Stones
And all of a sudden, as I held the first sin in my hand,
I’d be cast out of Heaven for my sins. These stones pile up;
each one bearing a secret; I throw them out as pennies for
a thought- and quietly watch them all fall; falling in what
looks much slower than slow motion

I stand around so many perfect sinners; it crowds me in;
as we all go round, and round hiding our hands that
dares to throw a stone. I drew a circle, patiently in the dark
-as a droplet in a river of thought, that flows into a sea that
whispers so loudly every one of my faults

The memories of one’s familiar dark past, grows larger
once recognized; as like a shadow that is stretched
Etched? I bet; as the deal of all those dealing in their secret
***** deeds- so indeed, that a greater sinner does call another
sinner greater.
Jul 26 · 247
Wasted Thoughts
Everything is momentary to a monumental failure;
Monetizing the currency to a means of life
All in the means of life being momentaneous of one’s strife
And it honestly takes a lot of strife, to inspire my own self
To continue on to write — some days, it feels like it’s all coming
To be my very last moment, of forcing myself to inspire
Someone; anyone willing to connect through the wire
Building fences around the ideas we all seem to like:

We all like to be heard; as countless failures to listen
We all like to be anchors of advice; less the ones to gain wisdom
We all like the appeal of more life; dead cold to life’s experiences
We all like the good cards we’re dealt; but would prefer the odds
Of ourselves being the one’s quietly dealing it
We all like the idea of a superhero; something that supersedes faith
We all like the hope of us being connected by love; but what’s
A wicked heart, if it doesn’t sometimes love to hate

Everything we try to do, everything forced into my eyes
Shows me everything we want to do, is often just a waste.
Jul 26 · 633
Belonging Tears
These are not my tears; but just the remnants of all
the forgotten kinds of many lost dreams
These are not my reasons to cry; why should I-
cry any more, as there is always less of the time
For every joyous hello has promised me a sorrowful goodbye,
every down season, is the cause of a once crashing high

These are not any of my tears to cry; over things I can
no longer control, things wished to have been owned, longed to
have been called mine; as like these supposed tears of mine

Of course, I’m fine when I choose not to cry; tears are only
a promise for a moment and only in a moment shall any life
be gone- and maybe by then, as you cry over me, will there be
a place for all my tears to belong.
Jul 25 · 381
The Woods
In their woods; there is a love that is hunted with all
of its goodies in a basket- basking on all that we could
hold onto; as your cheeks blush became the main
protagonist, like a Little Red Riding Hood

Beware the bite of love; beware of the wolf- for the
goosebumps you feel, is a breath howling at your skin
And doesn’t that make you want to scream; in those cries
surely caused by the eyes ******* you in the world
we live in; making you out as its meal

You are so pretty and so wild; to the tragedy of a love being
so blind- as your true blessing is softly masked in a disguise,
For even as there are people who care for you, there are so
many to despise, so many that are truly, and completely vile
Those that treat you like a chicken lost in the woods- people
only interested in the breast and thighs

Love is no fairy-tale- neither anything close to a movie;
though heartbreak is nothing of fiction. Love is sometimes a
crippling addiction; the oxymoron of us always chasing after love
My dearest daughter, don’t get lost in its woods.
Jul 25 · 60
No Title
Maybe I’ll love you better this time,
With a blank page towards this life- a canvas in solid white;
And not falling into feelings pretty much blind
As all this running is being done outside; desperately trying
To keep every shadow in line, through the rain-washed days,
I’ll catch them running inside. And as the wind so too blows inside;
Tearing down all of the displays in my mind…
.
.
.
.
.
.
You get to finish the rest
Jul 25 · 1.4k
Guns for life
I feel so alone in a world that loves to **** itself,
As I need a gun, to truly feel like I belong;- filling
Up its cold chamber holes, in this revolving world
Six monumental shots, ready to **** myself…

Bullet 1: the war on drugs, is just a war with ourselves

Bullet 2: the war for land, is just a war with the world

Bullet 3: the war for peace, is a war in which death
   will only be the truest peace we’ll know

Bullet 4: the war for survival, is a war of stealing
   and killing, for that desperate dollar

Bullet 5: the war of the flesh, is a war between sanctifying
   the temple, or satisfying myself in lust’s power

Bullet 6: the war of identity, is a war of fighting against
   all the alleged titles- in order to find my true self
Jul 24 · 116
My faith
my faith is but a humble paper holder
-folding his promises, kept in my heart
as a place to keep safe. and in the stillness of prayer;
he finds me empty, an unguided river, drawing into
the void- so close to near death, listening to the life he speaks

he sees me as a pearlescent sunflower seed,
hiding in the darkness of earth, parched from living water,
his word overflowing; only to those willing to partake, to
receive a promise unseen- as like the physical appearance of faith

still, it roams in the air; shapeless, always
staying the same- always there, until forever
as the weather is a teacher to seasonally help me
master weathering through one’s many, many
situations; I know my faith will be with me come time or tides
Jul 23 · 293
Poem 1.7k b
Maybe if we kiss with every touch, breathe,
and sense — we could fall in love
Maybe if we hold hands with those tips
of fingers aglow — we could fall in love
Maybe if we made eye contact, feeling safe
by every saved memoir in an eye’s glance of
view — we could… finish each other’s sentences

Maybe if we bought a dog, to give an excuse
for all our questionable pet names — we could
say it’s a way to disrupt people’s curiosities
Maybe if we bought a house, to imagine the
very future we’d move into — we could rent
out our hopes to afford it all

Maybe if we slipped a coy glance in each’s
direction — we wouldn’t have to be quietly
imagining it all
Jul 23 · 257
Poem 1.7k
Washed in the image of noon; hoping to meet by five-
waiting patiently in a bus; so empty that different spaces
exist, not to be used. Can’t be late; seated in a dead silent
bus ride, as all manners of conversation are late

My own scent betrays me; foretelling the amount
of a day’s work; as the weekend is a fondest dream,
There’s still yesterday’s coffee stuck on my shirt,
stained in the privacy of four walls; where I get to see
touch, and embrace you once again

…the only true reason I look forward to
the end of the day- my woman, my lady.
Jul 21 · 386
Hermit
[Hermit]
/ˈhɝmɪt /
A recluse; someone who lives alone and shuns human companionship.

One last promise of a kiss; but who hears the words of
someone’s misplaced lips— Memories are all archived, those
experiences, a treasure to bury deep in the chambers of a heart
And any extra time: an excuse for me to procrastinate…how I
choose to express my reasoning, is an explanation for another day

for the all the memories we had, will all remain locked away
our experiences a treasure I’ll never get the pleasure to
saviour in their worth. and any reason to chase after them
all in a day, becomes the procrastination of tomorrow…
our story ends here


In a thin book of divination; the conclusion of a love
that had the fill of a loaf of bread- here we are- with the
crumbs, holding onto what’s left. There is no grasping it.
All climaxes eventually fall into the obscurity of being
an old familiar harmony; the laughs of many, soon becomes
the quit chuckles of one who sits later alone. And all joyous
songs must play their very last chord

anticlimactic will be the story of us, painfully laughing ourselves
to sleep— those fortunate enough to sing our once beautiful song-
the words, chords, keys, and harmonies are all gone…
our story ends here


I am something inadequate; a follower to the gun,
the bullet that led me astray in its cold lead. Still don’t
lend me your sorrow; shunning the idea of love
For the gun that killed a benevolent concern, was
a gun I had pointed at myself.

                                          …Bang!
Jul 20 · 244
Sociopath
[Sociopath] a Skit
/ˈsoʊ.si.əˌpæθ /
A person with an antisocial personality disorder.

In his mind there’s a doctor operating- and I hope it doesn’t
prove a sum of complicating; to be someone overly too patient
He prefers to write with the lights off; coming up with some
dark thoughts, he couldn’t really afford to keep up
with his bright ideas- missed a couple payments

His words are made of heavy breath, so hard to speak
with his hard smoke- smoking on ******
He feels like a loner and a private freak,
his personality quite unique, for a meek
with so many words, to plant sparks of arousal
The one to spit in a *** of dirt, and grow out
a beautiful flower

But he wears a mask of many faces, out masquerading for real
talking to himself; listening to the sound of his bones
a bone to pick, to see how fragile they feel
His heart ready to snap; with a bite of eroding teeth
fake confidence, a beautiful derelict,
with the taste of immortality;
the immorality to converse his words-
but he lacks the necessary speech…
Jul 19 · 375
Kiss of death
[Kiss of death]
/ /
A kiss on the cheek that signifies the death of the receiver.
.

Thoughts that partially come; I’m feasting on someone’s time,
second by second- killing their time; as one not wanting
to be dead late on finding out the ecstasy/lust of new experiences
These are my many bad dreams: overseeing life, aboard the
devil’s huge cranes- crossing the edge of a horizon, all
driven by a decision, without a moral choice

I chose to betray your trust…

I am so hollow; yet to be comprehensive, in a spiralling ballet
of our dreams – all the better versions of our love
As I gaze at sunsets over the ocean; a perfect place for us to
make love, I’m sure. But as the shore births another call to
winter- our summer love quickly flies south. You are the
summertime to fill my heart, but my wings have slowly
fallen apart

My love mate, I’m trailing behind, lost in the clouds
I can’t see you anymore; we should have sealed our love
with a kiss right from the start. But how could you kiss someone
with a cheeky smile. Now the black clouds of death are rising,
and with that, the promising kiss of death
Next page