It's all so bitter and dull but it's an obsession that i've come to love

It fuels my fire and I can't stand not having it

I think I might need an intervention cause this is getting out of control

What am I gonna do? Can I cope with this for much longer?



I am addicted to this sweet little thing called poetry.

The sweet slew of words all mashed up in one big stew that we all can then enjoy.

From the bittersweet love poems to the hysterical funny ones.

They all inspire us to explore our own creativity and pour our hearts out.

Whether it's on stage, or in a collection. It is truely my favorite art form.

It doesn't take much effort but it does consume quite a lot of your precious time.

But it's worth every second wasted putting pencil to paper.

Your poems are your gospel. So preach them like they've never been preached before.

Even if it's impressing a crowd, or impressing a random stranger who reads them.

It still is inspiring and I love everything about it.

Some people thing of it as a hobby, but I think of it as a lifestyle.

A lifestyle that I want to embrace and soak up until i'm blue in the face.

Because poetry changed my life for the better.

And that's all that matters.

I fall asleep in my bed
With your sweet scent on my pillow and kiss imprinted on me like a tattoo
I think no, I know it's true
I love you, always had always will
I know those words frighten you, they do that to me too
With every kiss, with every embrace you've drawn me closer and closer
I don't want this to be another shot in the dark
I don't want to forget how happy you are making me

Love bites

So pure and innocent

But yet so tempting

Although they leave temporary marks on your body

The memories of how you got them will still be there

Like your favorite after dinner snack they mere thought of them entices you

It's just one of those bittersweet things that seem to be gone too quickly.

And doesn't return.

They are just innocent ways of affection that have made me love you even more.

Laying here alone thinking.

Thinking of the choices i’ve made.

Wondering if i’ll be able to speak again.

It’s 2 AM, and i’m all alone.

Like the period at the end of a sentence, this story has ended.

Like many before it.

But when the next one comes along, and you wanna make a memory out of it.

Just look up. There’s a semi-colon there, wating to write your story.

Embrace it, feel it, let it consume your very existance.

And after all, let it be your guide.

For once, 1 simple character be so little but seem so important.

Wayne Gretzky once said, “you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take”.

So take the shot. Take the risk. Maybe you’ll learn from it.

We all make mistakes in this world. And ways to fix them.

But unlike pencils, we don’t immediately have erasers to fix our mistakes.

Because we choose to embrace things differently.

If only we looked up at the stars to explain why these things happen to us.

Because to us, those stars are magnificent.

Here I am, laying here in the dark. With the night stars shining bright.

Ready to write my story.

My baby boy..

You were so sweet and innocent.. what happened to you?..

You changed so much since that day you left home..

Longer replies, no ‘I love you’ texts or frequent emails..

Nothing. You literally alienated yourself as soon as you left the nest..

Did I raise you wrong? Was I too harsh to you? Maybe so..

I never gave you the freedom that you so long craved when you went on the open road..

And now you have a girlfriend who you see everyday, and 1 tiny miracle to cherish and love.. from which you unexpectedly created one afternoon cause you were bored and wanted to have some fun..

And yet, despite the uncertainty and trust issues.. you’re still my son and I love you..

Go make a big splash in this world, however you can.

I’ll be here, waiting to see you again.

An echo of the past i’d like to return to

I still love the smell of your perfume despite not being in love with you

I wanted us to be still friends, and that seemed to be all that was

Until a subtle ***** affection pushed you away

Away from the broken shell of a man that is me

You left me for dead and locked the key in a safe

Although my choice was clear, things always turned out different

We stopped hanging out, taking weeks to gather the pieces and talk to each other again

At first you were my soft melody

but then you became a gentle whisper in my once sane head

I feel like I have been mauled by a bear

These thoughts on paper might not be wise, but it fuels me to write what I feel

I’m not going to ruin what we had, maybe it’s time we turned the page

Forget and forgive what happened in the past

And move on like the echo of so many memories

That I can’t seem to forget

We depend on the internet like we depend on water
We consume it like it’s our life force, as we may die without it
Like a fish out of water, we seem hopeless without it
needing to be online every second of every day
on and on and on, until we get bored and I dunno.. maybe pick up a book
or sing out loud until our voices become dried out and dull
The internet has become quite the necessity that we never expected to have  

It’s like society is trying to get you to praise Bill Gates or the late Steve Jobs as you do the son of Christ or God
The internet is it’s own religion gathering followers and preachers left and right
Our personal computers are our personal churches and our psalms are what’s trending like the Harlem Shake.
We have done in 10+ years in what took the catholic faith thousands to.
We don’t read any holy books like the bible. We follow a different set of rules.
Like this: rule 63 states that for every male character there is a female counterpart.