Let me set fire to the tip of my pencil
And use it as a candle
To light this dark room.

Let the fuel I pour
Be the very writing
That burns me
So I don’t have to close my eyes.

Let the torch I hold that scares
The monster lurking in my mind
Warm my cold thoughts.

As I hold my breath and sink
In a room filling with water.

The price of warmth ...
                  Is the little air I have left.

Please don’t leave me
In this cold dark room
With hope extinguished.

So I claw at a locked door
With a burning piece of wood
As I slowly drown in a cold dark room.

Trapped in here
With myself.

-M.O.I

I'll throw you a line if
gentle with my heart you shall be
accepting of my spirit wild and free
as understanding pain took my glee

We all need friends so I'll throw a lifeline
forever my heart you shall have the key
I want to know the line's strong so give me a sign
with love make your days mine
and hold tight to the friendship line
forever in eternity intertwined

Is it humanity that breeds life into love?
Or Is it love that breeds humanity unto life?
What is it about love that requires humanity?
Is it not possible to feel love as if a God?

Oh the simple nectar that cultivates life,
While a wooden stake pierces the heart with words.
Dangling forever upon mysteries of the deep blue,
As passion lights the paths torch.

The fear of the first move towards eternity,
As a father's call lingers in the forgotten corners.
Gentle glimpses showered with moon lit dust.
As Angel's wings quench the jitters with lust.

Exquisite walks as the sand tickles the toes.
Hand in hand, hearts saunter toward morn.
An array of words lost in night,
As eyes and heartbeats fill the glass.

A pitiful soliloquy portrayed with lumbering words.
Visions of tomorrow masked by a moments heat.
Sweetest lips embodying the emotions of the heart
As heaven facilitates the sweetest of words

I LOVE YOU!!

Block, Block I knock
on a poets writers block-door of mind.
No one answers so I knock again.

Block, Block
Come out come out
to play, mind pattern
who is in darkness.

Block, Block I knock,
as I breath deep
to expand with trust
and determination.

At last door opens.
At last a crack I see
so my breath of intent may enter.

Finally I can  
shoot with my ray gun aimed
at wall of wandering doubts.

Bang, Bang Block,
I stand with gun of creativity
filled with word-like bullets
to disintegrate you,
and success is mine
Thusly... I can move with flow
so I may write.

We poets,
live in a field
where words are like seeds
ready to be watered by creative minds
to grow prose.

Sometimes our tears help it grow
Other times it's sun from happy hearts.

We poets peddle
our bouquets filled verses
with its fragrances
that drifts in readers mind.