Celestial angel,
adorned with glory,
come hither to thee,
and tell thee your story.
Tell of thy love,
of which thou art born.
Lest I shalt die,
and be as unborn.
Speak unto me,
dictate thy needs,
and I shall join thou
and join in thy creeds.
Celestial angel,
God’s mighty knight,
guide me by day,
and protect me by night.

Dear -------,
     There have been times when you and I have been entrenched in completely opposite views on how to act in a situation or how to express love to each other. There have been times where we have been on the same side, dominating life and overcoming everything that it threw at us. There have been times where I failed repeatedly to love you in the way you deserved and the way you needed; times when I never considered allowing myself to see the world through your beautiful, oceanic blue eyes. Times when I shut out the world so that I was in control, so that the unbearable truth of my own failings didn’t reach me, times where I built a moat to keep the truth ‒and you‒ out.

     There have been times where I never told you I was sorry, partly because I didn’t believe I was and because I didn’t want to be. My pride and dignity have been my defenses against my own inability to love. The innermost aspects of my being have fostered hell and evil in my past, and the thought that those things are still alive in me are too vicious to believe.

     Everything about you and about us has silenced my darker side, and I’ve been filled with a joy and happiness that I haven’t felt since before I was a teenager. Our memories usher me back to a simpler time, when imagination taught us about reality, and when reality taught us about the benefits of imagination.

     Being with you makes me not have to imagine how perfect and ceaselessly invigorating life can be. My reality is now what my imagination used to be as a child: perfection. And when things go wrong now in my perfect reality, it feels like a too reap reality and no longer like a happy imagination. My reality becomes confused, and to deal with that I shut it out until it feels like a perfect imagination again.

     I don’t want to lose this feeling of an unending imaginative state, where we can and do conquer anything in our path, laughing and holding hands while navigating the mazes and puzzles of the world.
    I will do anything to keep you and this feeling with me for the rest of my days. I don’t and won’t always do everything to make you happy, but I won’t shut you out anymore. I won’t run away whenever I have stumbled and hurt you. I won’t blame you for my inadequacies. I won’t attack you and say that you’re not giving your all to keep our imagination alive.

     I will not lose you to my dark side. But I’m weak. I need your help to keep the dark out. Your presence alone is a greater weapon than all the steel and ammunition in the world against my darkness. Your eyes pierce it with rays of brilliant light, washing away the mud of my soul.

    I love you more than I have ever loved before, even more than I love myself. I would give up everything else I hold dear just to keep you from being apart from me. I sincerely and adamantly wish that you will stay with me forever through the good times, but especially through the bad times. I wish I could hold you in my arms forever, sing you lullabies, and give you tender kisses. I wish I could say sorry, that I could admit my wrongdoings and my stubbornness. I wish we can be together, with love, forever and always, until the end of our days.

                                                      With Deepest Love,
                                                                   ----

Your smile glistens with the morning’s joy,
Your hair shines with children’s laughter,
Your eyes radiate with a deity’s wisdom,
Your voice speaks with the melody of a nightingale.

Forgive me for my apathy.

Forgive me for the way I sit there
quietly shutting down inside my mind.

Forgive me for running away from you
and not running to you.

Forgive me for distancing myself
when I don't know what to do.

Forgive me for not being
the partner I should be.
For not being your best friend
all the time.
For comforting myself before
comforting you.

Forgive me for being scared of
making the wrong move,
and for instead disappearing
into the recesses of myself.

I'll forgive you for caring too much,
for using all your energy to make me happy.

I'll forgive you for putting me first,
and putting yourself second to me.

I'll forgive you for tending to my every need,
for loving me unconditionally, no matter
how much it affect you.

I forgive you for doing all of this,
because I haven't done the same.

To every song there is a start,
a spark of life within the heart
which flickers, and begins to grow,
and smoother it begins to flow,
Weaving words of wholesome hope
that in grave times do help us cope.
Our sweet solemnity does intertwine,
and with our God's great Love divine
parts the sea of our own pain,
and pures our heart in celestial rain,
Soaked into the heavens above;
all our sorrows transformed to Love.
And nearer comes the melodic end,
when to our Maker we must ascend,
For every song must come to cease
in order that we may find our peace.

Good sir, one thing I owe to you: to tell you that I hate thee true.
Your sly advances show for real that I am but your body's meal,
to be deliciously consumed, and have my sanctity be doomed.
Repent, oh Devil, back to Hell! Sink back into your slimy well
where from its spout burst tongues of fire to feed your wretched, black desire.
And if you do not go today then under Earth and dirt you'll lay.
I'll see that you ne'er have a breath until you've met your certain death.
You call yourself a pious soul, yet crying's God's name you take me whole.
You choke me up in your embrace, and tell me I'll be filled with "grace."
Thy love is but a dark snake's skin, which when once shed shows what's within.
Thy hands like teeth about to clench. The stink from out your mouth doth stench
-just like the rotting fumes of graves and poisoning the prey it craves.
Ah, sir, if you are even that. You pull your tricks out of a hat.
But I can see the trickery and magic so it's plain to see:
you do not love me for myself, you'd use me; put me on a shelf
- another token that you've won.
But put quite simply, sir, I'm done.

I have a will, for life and death.
It’s mine to give, every single breath.
I made a hundred copies, for all to see.
But the main copy is for you from me.
In it you’ll be shocked to find,
That in my life I’ve lost my mind.
But it hasn’t wandered too far away,
And I search for it each and every day.
My will for you is a spark,
To light your days when they get dark.
To cherish the abundance of life,
And learn to deal with toil and strife.
My will for you, is that you be,
A child forever, wild and free.

Should we hold poetry to high standards,
or should we let people express themselves
in ways some might find sub-par?

Poems are meant to be a reflection of the soul,
but when they are written with no care for language,
do they really have a soul?

Take comfort knowing someone's there.
Many people who desperately care
About you.
Take comfort knowing you're not alone.
There are people on the phone
For you.
Remember why you're here on Earth.
Remember all the things you're worth
And all you do.
Don't let the darkness trap you in.
We will fight them off and win
For you.
And when your time comes to go,
Remember that we love you so
And so should you.

A college degree.

A loving wife with two, maybe three kids.
A suburban house with a white picket fence, with a dog that
tried to dig underneath that fence, maybe because it’s more
aware of the systematic monotony that’s going on.

A minivan to take the two flawless children,
first to soccer, then to dance.
A meaningless job
in a meaningless room
wearing meaningless clothes
making meaningless money
paying for our children to live a meaningless life.

And we wonder why we have a youth suicide problem.

ACROSS THE UNIVERSE
I SAW [them] STANDING THERE.
BOYS in STRAWBERRY FIELDS.
in their YELLOW SUBMARINE.
IN MY LIFE when I need HELP
to CARRY THAT WEIGHT,
they DON'T LET ME DOWN.
I’d listen to them
EIGHT DAYS A WEEK if I could.
They are HERE, THERE, AND EVERYWHERE,
DOWN THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD
when I have LONESOME TEARS IN MY EYES.
The band that caused a REVOLUTION
and made people TWIST AND SHOUT
and COME TOGETHER.
BECAUSE,
ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE.

They can't hear you, mute one.
Their ears are clogged with the commotion of their worlds,
The sound of machines whirring out their life.

They can't see you, invisible one.
They see themselves bathed in power, fame, money.
You are blinded out by the stage floodlights as imaginary crowds of lifeless onlookers chant their names.

They can't feel you, numb one.
They only feel the rush of blood as they trample their way to the finish line.
Their feet rolling over every limb and bone of the unfit.

They can't love you, lonely one.
It's not their fault. They've been ****** into a vacuum that emits a stench of greed and rotten flesh. Even their tombstones had to outdo the rest.

I wish I could express and show you
that you don’t have to change.
I wish you could look in the mirror
and see what I see.
The picture doesn’t change,
so why do we see so differently?
I wish you could see
from the view of me.
See your beauty, totally,
and unequivocally.

Can I use the can?
May we end school in May?
Let's book it to find the right book.
Then let's play and go see a play.
I found a pen inside the pig's pen.
I hope the stable door is stable.
I have to watch the time with my watch.
Can I buy a fish net on the Net?
Who coined the term for a silver coin?
I keep my drawers inside a drawer.
I'm quite a fan of your ceiling fan.
The girl with the bow gave a courteous bow.
I put the model plane on a level plane.
It is plain to see the barn across the plain.
He hurt his back from bending back.
A horse will rear if you slap its rear.