your eyes were green.
i started to notice
around the time i realized
i would be sitting next to you
for a long time.
when i shared this information,
you disregarded me,
with a glance in another direction
and told me they weren't.
but how would you know?
when i was the one
who saw them on a daily basis--
searching between them.
you told me they weren't green.
that they were brown.
after brief arguing
i met with you in the middle
made a compromise
and smiled.
they were a brown green then.
yet you still gave me one of your looks,
and the frown.

i noticed you didn't like talking about yourself.
well neither do i.
but they definitely weren't brown.
because i have brown eyes
and they're not like yours.

whenever i am around you
i am mostly happy.
green is a colour that is said to alleviate depression.
that offers harmony.
and i didn't see brown.
i saw green.

and your eyes were green.
and i started to notice
around the time i realized
i was falling in love with you.
but i saw much more
than just a colour.
they were much more
than just brown.

|m.s.

Often times I feel disconnected to reality,
Like I am there physically
But mentally I am not.
I am fully aware of my surrounding,
I am fully aware of people passing by,
It just feels like a complete blur.
Sometimes, people talk to me,
I listen,
But my mind wanders somewhere else.

Nobody was born here
    But we'll die here
                   Sink into this rough soil
  And fertilize a tree.
                       And that tree will grow leaves,
           And come fall baby,
     People will come from all over just to see them drift away from the thing that gave them life.

Nobody was born here
     But then again,
   No one knows what "here" even means
         The meaning was lost in years and years of general nonchalance
               It sounds beautiful,
   But ****** if we know how to explain it.

Nobody was born here,
            But we can choose to call it home.
   We can choose to grow old here,
And we can choose to die here.
               And if we don't know how to define it, then that leaves a blank we can fill in with anything we want
        No matter what
        Anything at all.
  And if that means you sink into this rough soil,
      Just to fertilize one tree,
          Then come fall, baby
    People will come from all over just to see your leaves change and drift,
        And baby,
           That means you're beautiful.

A poem walks with me
he knows me

when feeling alone
he gives me company

Like the dog at his walk
precedes his master
pulls the leash
faster…faster

keep pace with me
find peace in poetry

the two
side by side
break in sweats
the dog and his master
the two poets
forget

who runs who

merge into one

making a poem
fully done.

I want to be a thieving rogue who hunts behind curtains for treasured "gold".
I want to take
and grab
and ******;
a hooded figure no lawman can catch.
They'll search for me beyond the seas while I am just grinning in a tree ,
waiting for the alarm to give up the fight so I can vanish into the night.
But please, dear friend,  don't make the mistake and assume you know the treasure I crave,
for no diamonds are twinkling behind the eyes of the mischievous hunter,
this garish knave.
This thieving soul wants only to steal the hearts of those, chained to their woes, and all other torturous lingering foes.

So quickly I'll sneak and risk you away;
then show you, perhaps, a different view.
So tell me.
Will you
let me steal you?

How cruel this world can be
as to when someone starts
to mean so much to you
you begin to mean
so little to them

I love you
not because
you're good looking

I love you
not because
you're caring

I love you
not because
you dote on me

I love you
not because
your smiles are sweet

I love you
not in lust
of your crevice
or orifice
or skin

I love you
because
without you
I feel

incomplete within.