Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2015 · 742
Antonio Dec 2015
in love,
in work,
in friendship,
and purpose.

That is the illusion.

Our calling
is one of
endless reinvention,
course corrections
and start-overs.
That is our reality.
That is our Art.

Accept it.
Nov 2015 · 481
of Love and Music
Antonio Nov 2015
When the desire to 'play' exceeds talent,
melodies fall out of tune,
plucked strings snap.
Noise and scratching is all that is left.

So, practice my Love.
Practice, is what you need.
And when our harmonies blend
you may practice with me.
Nov 2015 · 1.4k
of You
Antonio Nov 2015
Loving yourself, for any reason,
is a good start.
Nov 2015 · 534
on Belief
Antonio Nov 2015
A pampered myth
paves the road
to servitude.
Nov 2015 · 377
of Struggle
Antonio Nov 2015
The path of least resistance
is the quickest route
to the
Nov 2015 · 463
Biding Time
Antonio Nov 2015
Patience is a curse for those who've run out of time.
Nov 2015 · 335
of Wishing
Antonio Nov 2015
Wish with a smile
and rejoice in the possibilities.
Nov 2015 · 302
of Now
Antonio Nov 2015
Being content in the Present
loosens the grip of the Past.
Oct 2015 · 374
Design Flaw
Antonio Oct 2015
I am designed to be loved
thousands of times over...
and scorned only *once.
Hello again.
Sep 2014 · 1.5k
Antonio Sep 2014
The sideline view
Of a poet's life.
Topics free falling
In ranks of predictable verse.
Lacking vitality,
Inspirations disperse.

My thoughts wander.
Vibrating to the hum of
Flourescent lights above,
As the cursor blinks
In hypnotic rhythm.
Drawing me into
The pale blank screen
And beyond.

Falling once again
Into daydreams
Of her golden hair glowing
In Autumns waning light.
Hands merged in a gentle grip
Warming the evening chill
With a soft peck of our lips.

Longing in stillness,
Attending in silence,
The cursor, again, must wait
The many pensive stages
In a poet's futile task of
Placing verses on pages.
Sep 2014 · 901
Empty Space
Antonio Sep 2014
Another Sunday.
Opening the empty space.
What shall it be
On the last day of everything?

Start in the upright,
Twirl to the melody,
Wearing down old soles
To the heels of memory.

Nausea of routine,
Waning appeals unvoiced.
Visions thickening,
Melodies reduced to noise.

   An empty space to fill.
   What shall it be?
   Towards the last day of everything,
   Withering out of mortal shackles
   In emptiness,...freed

Sep 2014 · 946
My Checkout Star
Antonio Sep 2014
You were a 'Star' even back then.
The light from your eyes brightened
my days and all we had was time.

Too young, dumb and blind, I was,
to know for certain.
But deep down, a part of me could
tell that you would one day rise to
decorate the sky.

Now, the World orbits around 'you'.  
As well it should.
I still miss the times when
we were young
and you were mine.
Strumming your tunes
and making 'em rhyme.
No back up,
no stadiums,
just that sweet voice
humming new lines
into the Summer night.

Jealousy's wicked symphony
fills my mind as your blue eyes
gaze at me from the covers at
the checkout line.
Such is the fate of young lovers
who started as friends, until one
rises high and the other descends.

Oh, well.

You've earned the World's love
just as you won mine so long ago.
I hope you miss me too,  even
though I will always miss you
just a little more.

Reminiscing about her.  Still miss you S.T.  Sorry for being such a dope.
Sep 2014 · 922
Sonnet 116 of Poetry
Antonio Sep 2014
Let me not to the intuit of true poetry
Cast aspersions. Art is not art
When it conceit finds,
Or bends with public senses
To be misused:

Oh, no! Tis an unfinished tome,
Of written prose fixed on ink and stone,
A beacon for generations to behold
Spoken for itself
And never owned.

Verse and prose yield not
To times whims,
Though ink stained digits
Decay within
Her sickled blade
Reduceth all to dust.

Our compulsion alters not
With her frigid certainty
But endures it out, even
To the edge of eternity.

   If this timeless effort 'folly,'
   And upon me proved,
   I have never lived
   Nor no one ever
   Truly mused.

I thought I would transform my favorite Sonnet of 'Love' into a Sonnet for our shared passion.  I hope William would approve.
Sep 2014 · 766
Day Eight
Antonio Sep 2014


Sep 2014 · 6.6k
Strap me On!
Antonio Sep 2014
"Men are accessories and not necessities,"
she proudly remarked with a
delicious smug.

"Well then,"  I replied.

"You should strap me on
until you've worn me out!"*


A clever retort I used with much success many years ago.
Sep 2014 · 680
the Lonely Path
Antonio Sep 2014
We once walked these streets together
at a time when 'forever' was something real.
Our kisses were gentle pecks, here and there.
Missing our aim, on occassion,
but sweet with a purity I long for still.

We didn't lie about our dreams together.
We just bent our desires to fit our wishes.
Our ignorance caught up to us soon enough.
I took the high road while you descended
down an easier path.

I recall that first morning so long ago.
Awaking to a vacancy of empty fitted sheets
and tears that replaced the echo of our routine.
The sounds of our love absorbed by
the plaster walls, still jingle at times.

The pain is gone,
and tender memories remain.
The high road I treaded upon gives
clear views of our long lost past.
But, only the lonliest of broken hearts
can travel that path.

The streets are quiet now.
And I remain,
still in love
and never the same.

This was inspired by an 80's tune I heard again recently.  'Only the Lonely' by the Motels.
Sep 2014 · 1.1k
I am Defeated
Antonio Sep 2014
The rouge from your supple lips
decorate my face still.

It's warmth radiates from
my cheek as ignited senses
beg for more.

The gentle red contours tingle
through my flesh as it etches
it's imprint onto my very soul.

You've conquered me with one gentle blow.
My only purpose for continued breath,
is to be kissed by you once more.

Sep 2014 · 1.1k
Tender Morsels
Antonio Sep 2014
Speak softly,
so I may savor
every morsel
of your tender

Sep 2014 · 627
Returning from the Depths
Antonio Sep 2014
I descended slowly so long ago.
The memory of how
and why it began floated
away with the flotsom on
the warm surface currents.

On the frigid sea floor of my mind
crushed beneath the pressure
of liquid self loathing.
A kingdom of cold piercing
darkness was my domain
and there I stayed.

"Please, come back."
Her words echoed in the depth.
And it began.

A slow ascension passed the
darkened depth through murky grey.
The grasping demons that preyed
on my spirit lost their hold as I rose
beyond their reach.

Faster I climbed.
My soul expanded with every passing meter.
Pushing away all that held me down
and breached the warm wavy surface
where it all began.

Golden rays and azure blue skies
fill my sight as I float with the current.
Miles from shore with hope as my
only compass.

The journey to my redemption now begins
with you as my guide.


KCsPoetryContest  depression  recovery
#KCsPoetryContest #recovery from depression #recovery #depression

Poetry contest submission on recovery from depression.
Aug 2014 · 8.3k
Heralding Autumn
Antonio Aug 2014
Summer's warm currents retreat
the advancing brisk amber sunsets.

Submerging the world under
the reign of enduring starry nights.

The maples blush as Autumn whispers
the gentle lullaby of Winter's sweet breath.

Erasing Summer's memory with a crimson brush
preparing the golden landscape's long frigid rest.

Aug 2014 · 1.2k
Trusted Whispers
Antonio Aug 2014
Your perfection is an illusion.
My faults are real.

'Trust' is the stitching
that holds my fragile
parts together.

Whispers of what we share,
like confetti in a breeze,
cannot be recovered
once carelessly set free.

Don't release me to the wind,
I beg you.

Aug 2014 · 989
Antonio Aug 2014
haunting grey outside,
forced to reminisce.
some believe we should just be.
no mind,
no chemistry,
friends in need.
I was born complete
but now fractured and
blown with Autumn's leaves.
running in place
no direction,
just haste,
faking my way.
the membrane
between me and the pain
is thinning away.

Aug 2014 · 811
Classics for a Reason
Antonio Aug 2014
Classics in Art, Music, Literature
live beyond temporal limits.
Touching chords when seen and heard,
on canvass, in melodies, with written words.

They can be young and fresh,
or ancient and frayed.
With messages and stories
ringing true through every Age.

They transcend places
and march boldly through time.
Still relevant,
Still beautiful,
Eternally sublime.

Aug 2014 · 824
So, You're a Poet?
Antonio Aug 2014
I'm sometimes asked with feigned surprise,
"You write poetry?"
"How Divine!
Give us a sample of your
favorite rhyme!"

But I know what they're thinking.
I see it in their eyes,
"What a waste of time."
"What a joke."
"Better hide the silver,
cuz these types are all broke."

Poetry doesn't pay the bills.
That part is so true.
But, don't deride my compulsion,
or my next hundred verses
will be about "you!"

Aug 2014 · 879
Made Better, Forever
Antonio Aug 2014
something was missing.
a vacancy of purpose
lay within my soul.
until I caught your glance
and for a brief moment,
I suddenly felt whole.

I didn't believe it, at first.
my jaded mind fought the idea.
but the emptiness began to fill.
this wasn't a lustful impulse
something had begun,
and it was real.

the proof was in
your words,
your smile,
your loving touch.
your humor,
your laugh,
I could not get enough.

our lives began that august night
under a star filled sky and pale moon.
I am a 'man' today made better, forever
and it's all my darling,
my Love,
because of you.

Aug 2014 · 819
Truth in 12 words
Antonio Aug 2014
You 'are' beautiful!

Let no one convince you

Not even you.

Jun 2014 · 930
a Perfect Picture
Antonio Jun 2014
You paint a perfect picture.

Full of firey reds
and deepest blue.
A sprinkle of gold
adds the final touch
to this masterpiece of 'you.'

But I've learned my lessons well.
Between the brush strokes,
the color choices,
the vibrant subject,
and opinionated voices.

A deeper inspection finds
a glaring exception.
The missing shadows
and darkened hues.
A blackened soul conveniently
hidden from view.

Most likely.

Deceit is your brush,
vivid lies fill your pallete.
A habit common among
those whos veneer
is as thin as your canvas.

May 2014 · 1.1k
the Brightening Path
Antonio May 2014
the late afternoon of life.
the Sun hurtling toward the horizon
shedding its yellow brilliance
for a deep orange shawl that
turns my ageing landscape
into a warm diffuse gold.

The path to my distant demise
is shorter and brighter now
as the long winding road
behind me fills the breeze
with a brisk evening chill.

as I pause to look back
at the shadow of my past,
its long dark cast stretches
over the valleys and peaks
that once blocked my path

greying shadows behind me.
golden red brilliance ahead.
the journey near completion.
soon, no more path to tread.*

May 2014 · 1.0k
the Wall
Antonio May 2014
This wall that you built
between us,

laid down in solid indifference
and mortared with silence,

was it built to protect you
or me?
May 2014 · 2.6k
Antonio May 2014
(inspired by cute crazy's "unfair")*


  ­        for
                  *I­  wasn't
May 2014 · 1.2k
Ashes in the Breeze
Antonio May 2014
You lit me up
and took the first long drag
of my innocence.

I felt so alive!

I burned with orange
and red intensity
as you inhaled me
into the warm and
darkest depth of your chest.

As I swirled around
your beating heart,
I was one with you
in a vaporous peace.

Then the moment came
to evict me from your being.
The walls around your
pulsing heart suddenly
collapsed and expelled me
passed the puckered
wet lips that once
inspired my lust,
and I vanished
in the breeze.

All that remained of me
was a spent remnant of ashes
that you flicked into the wind
and extinguished me
May 2014 · 2.0k
Let Her Thrive
Antonio May 2014
A Rose raised
in the protective shade
of a mighty Oak,
no matter how well
nourished and loved,
will never bloom.

Her delicate petals
must defy the beating drops
of an angry Sky
in order to bathe
in the golden rays
of her birthright.

Step aside
and let her thrive!
My thoughts about how over-protective Fathers treat their Daughters for no good reason.
Apr 2014 · 1.1k
Numb and Void
Antonio Apr 2014
In the silence,
your absence echoes
off of every surface.

The water
from the faucet
mimics the open
veins in my chest.

Filling the empty gap
where my heart
once was.

It's sickly splatter
pools in the basin
and pours into
the darkness.

into the void.

*How did it come to this?

— The End —