Skin soaks in sting until the burning subsides
into numbness.
You are king;
                               I’m a furnace.


Fallen thing, how you broke just a small
little piece of your wing
in the jump
from the bird’s nest.

A bird sits alone,
In the forest of Vive
Its delicate whisper,
Another does heed
They flutter through trees,
In a tango of attraction
Intricate flight heats;
And ignites their passion
But one does leave;
And one gives heartfelt chase
A true hopeless romantic,
Lost in the forest's wake.

Master at his guitar
Rocking rod
A band of stars
David Bowie
Taking mars
Planet red
The dead and the doors
Fixated on the Chevy
The year was sixty eight
Lolo and I
Just kids on their way.
I always played for her
Jammed downtown and fifty first, and 26th
Fifth avenue
We kissed blank stare decency
Though not decent for our moms and dads.
We did the best with what we got
We had the best of sixty eight.

emptiness lurks in the shadows,
it hides on the faces of strangers,
it finds you at night and it strangles your soul,
til nothing is left but a bed.

Alone and bewildered of others,
forgotten and oh so afraid,
anxiety creeps through your window,
and leaves you relieved and betrayed.

What is the meaning of nothing?
monotonous floating through life?
When everything's gone and the people are too,
where do you go in the night?

19 | 31 Poems for August

The light in her hazel-brown eyes is the kind that gets people mesmerized.
I’ve fallen deeply for the words from a lady who creates love with a simple touch of a pen.
She made me realise that true beauty starts from within.
She is my muse, my friend, my lover.
She is my inspiration and for that I love her.
Life tastes better on the curves and edges of her lips.
Her love is the scripture that my heart believes in.
Her love is never enough; I’m always left yearning for more.
In a world ravaged by cold wars, we both know what we’re fighting for.
Nobody should ever come between us because there will be war.
I want to be the unforgettable poem written on the pages of her soul.
I want to be the poem that will always make her heart warm and whole.
No one’s perfect but she’s perfect for me.
Her love is the scripture that my heart believes in.
I want to escape from the cold, I want to nestle myself deep inside her soul.
The light in her hazel-brown eyes breaks through the darkest of clouds that always seem to surround me.
The light in her hazel-brown eyes has me mesmerized.
I could write poetry forever with the inspiration our love provides.