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 Oct 2012 C Phillips
DM
Tattered and torn,
Beaten and worn,
Death is the only healing place.
Special thanks to Shaqila. Your words are bandages to my wounds.
My bestest friend
Is alive and active,
Painting
My joys
And bleeding my sorrows
Across
Snowy sheets.

I lay
My
Burden
On my closest
Friend,
And it doesn't
Sigh.
It just
Listens
Without
Interrupting,
Without
Thinking,
"Here we go again."

It drips
Oil
Each time
I speak
Of love
And
Bleeds
When life
Cuts
My spine
And
Breaks
My
Fragile
Dreams.

This is my personal friend,
My pen,
The
One
I use to
Heal
Myself.

This is my friend,
The one who
Keeps
My
Secrets,
Never
Thinking,
"Get over it already!"

My friend,
The pen,
The
One
With
Eternal
Ink,
The
One
Who
Loves
Me
Unconditionally.

It lets me speak
Endlessly.
When people
Are nowhere
To be found,
And I am afraid,
And I am lonely,
I run to my friend.

And I pour
Myself into
This tiny
Vessel
And I travel
Into another
World,
A world
That cares solely
About me.

© 2011
What is beauty?
Is it you?
Or is it the lanky girl with a giraffe attitude?
What is it? Please tell me.
Is it you?
Or is it the strong man with muscles bulging through?
I say, what is beauty?
Is it you?
Is beauty the lady with face white as snow?
Or is it the boy with radiant teeth all in a row?

What is beauty?
It is the woman with a midnight frame?
Or perhaps it’s the gentleman with the famous name.
What is beauty?
Does it have a certain look?
Can we all read about it in an exclusive book?

Is beauty long curly hair?
Is it **** and fair?
Is it dark and proud?
Does it whisper or speaks aloud?
Is it the angry chick that’s been abused?
Is it the dude that’s been refused?
Is it the rich house?
Is it the old shack with a mouse?
Is it the evil ones that cheat?
Is it the ones who eat not meat?
Is it the ones who lick tears?
Is it the ones who hide all their fears?

What is beauty?
Is it you?
Is it you?
Is it me?
I wrote an article today about women who are trying to date after breast cancer. I think this poem goes with the theme in that article. This poem is also a continuation of the last poem I wrote about not judging a book by its cover.
http://www.examiner.com/article/dating-after-breast-cancer-1?cid=db_articles
 Oct 2012 C Phillips
Tallulah
You shuttered
when you caught me.
& My heart fluttered
when you stared back,
& not a word was uttered.
But we simply couldn’t stop


.
 Oct 2012 C Phillips
Tallulah
Steam
 Oct 2012 C Phillips
Tallulah
My summer lover
The shapes we uncovered
After glasses of wine
Clutching my spine
With sweaty palms
A voice that calms
You laid me down
And let me drown
In a pool of lust
Quaking with each ******

The bites
From steamy nights
The pink hickies
From afternoon quickies
Oh, but the early morning kissing
Is what I’m still missing
for RG
 Oct 2012 C Phillips
Jack Piatt
Work with me
turn the key
that opens
the personality
hiding inside
so cleverly
Combine
with me
Dine
with me
Visit
another time
with me
The world
won’t wait
for us
to figure
this out
It’s moving on
spiraling off
to new space
matter dripping
from its face
atoms bursting
without a trace
And grace
was something
said at meals
back before
the blinders
were left behind
Unhinging the soul
releasing the mind
Now it’s time
to sing the song
of the ancients
Wake the dead
with life
Feed the hungry
with floral wisdom
It’s alive and well
inside us all
Embrace the walk
Abandon the crawl
There’s no points
for hiding under covers
Face the day
there is no other
way
No out
No magic pill
The thrill
is in the knowing
the awareness
**** fairness
Pay attention
you’re on a mission
and you’re failing
Failing to connect
to respect
your self
the hidden secret
behind this mystery
You are the answer
can’t you see
Destiny
is a button up shirt
and you missed a button
You always
feel you’re missing
something
because you are
needlessly
Now turn off your mind
and find
*Everything
(c) June 2012
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