WJ Thompson Jan 12

Break my heart,
please, sweetly like you do,
break me into a flower,
Or a train, or an octopus.
Break me into the Eiffel Tower.
Yeah, that.
Do that.

WJ Thompson Dec 2017

Who inhabits an act
that makes you want to write them
in a poem?

I welcome any and all answers!
WJ Thompson Dec 2017

I'm young and in love
with disjointed sentences
mosaic symbols transforming
deliberations into expository
railroad tracks, crossing paths (with)
black jazz cats in the 20's to write the music a little differently for each note,
to ride a little Titanic eye contact
until Earhart makes it home.

Compress these highs and lows,
into melodic notes, dancing up (and down)
the Christmas tree, ornaments from
the time you were only three.
Days before we met, days beyond our starry-eyed goodbye,
Love is a gentle thing,
and you were such the words I'd pray to whisper in the night, on beaches made of all your favorite colors.
I want to be the way you see me,
I hope you never feel alone.
And what a treasure it was,
to speak with the princess,
instead of staring at the castle.
Soft cheeks instead of hard stone,
(cold glass, icy masks, distant hopes.)
But instead of distant,
You were close.

Here's to our 24 hour anniversary!
WJ Thompson Oct 2017

Oh lies, oh lies,
I know them by their tone,
They have this... nervous tick,
a habit of leaving little vacuums
so they can live in their little
depressions, and anxieties,
which they are quite comfortable in.
They feed on joy
and keep turning the thermostat down to zero!

(Let's hunt them, and skin them,
and throw them out of the yard)

Oh truth, oh truth,
I know her by the manner in which
she speaks: gently.
a voice glistening with hope,
in every form of joy,
permeating every iota,
saying in that polyphonic
timbre, "You were made
for love and nothing else
will satisfy. Open your eyes,
see this love, and come alive."

(Let's marry her and make
our hearts a home for her)

Wisdom, oh Wisdom,
you wonderful woman of the day.
WJ Thompson Oct 2017

I've seen 3,547 ways
of doing love wrong
(my own mother and father)
so, there's that.

So...
How do we do it right?

WJ Thompson Oct 2017

your. fresh. face.
is-an-excitement-to-my-eyes.
if/ our / purpose / for / this / bonding,
-is to hit a new high-
then-the-intention-of-our-souls
is. to. consume. until. we're. full.
(until comparison)
$to the memory$
[of the first time]
{that we rolled},
€makes another€
<seem old.>

How-then!
shall. we. proceed?
;
A\bond\that's\made\for\breaking
is[already]
de-cease­d.
(

WJ Thompson Oct 2017

Young Sorrow,

Cold, isn't it? And bitter.
But, it's a kindness, if properly directed.
The pit is, enticing, in its mystery.
Yet darkness clouds it's scope.
It may be, only, 6 feet at most.

Hope is good. Give your eyes to it.
Give your youth to it, Young Sorrow.

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