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I love endlessly,
I am yours as much as you are mine.
Your happiness is my happiness,
Your pain, as well, is mine.
One word with a Million Meanings...
It was ten years ago today
That his wife died. He was going to retire
But the Lighthouse needed his care.

There was a ghost in the basement
Or was it just a trick of the light.
If it was, it  just wasn't fair.

The deepness of the foghorn's call
Kept him from missing one single soul.
When someone stopped to visit he'd just sit and stare.

Many people came to ask him to leave
But he just held tight.
To leave would be more than he could bear.

It was ten years ago today
That his wife died. He was going to retire
But the Lighthouse needed his care.

One thing that he never knew
Was that he was the ghost in the basement.
He was the ghost that was sitting in the chair.
I'll fall in your embrace
With my droplets mizzling upon you,
Dear, would you let me embosom?

I'll wander around your infinite contours,
Gluing to you in your rugged facets,
Dear, would you let me explore?

I'll dance with your essence
And liberate your scents imbibed in me,
Dear, would you let me adrift?

I'll mingle with your hues
Without loosing my limpid self-hood,
Dear, would you let me defy?

Under the glaring sun, under the gleaming moon,
I'll shine back our entwined zeal,
Dear, would you let me scintillate?

I'll quiver and twitch when the breeze hits hard,
I'll cling to you with my sinking heart,
Dear, would you then let me depart?

I was lost to infinity, you'd thought.
But here I am, in pieces, but caught.
Dewy loam lets me in.
To unite us again, for love must win.

Dear, would you let me be you?
Dear, would you let me be us?
Pouring clouds never stimulate the writer in me, but today it did. I gazed at these water drops on the purple heart plant for so long & captured the moment in my camera and in my writing too. This poem talks about two individual beings that unify as one yet are separate identities. Life exists in a constant state of change and I tried to connect their story with the reality of life. Its about their endearment moments, their separation, their reunion, their infinite love, their infinite existence.
i pressed the moon to my breast
and took light to heart

now i see clearly when i fall apart
     and pull myself back together
with nebulous lassos
learning how to love yourself the right way, is starting to seem to be the theme of growing-up. finding people who love and appreciate the mess that you are under the shape you fake? serendipitous splendor.
 Mar 2015 Christopher Lowe
martin
Don't approach a dog unknown to you
Holding out your hand, making eye contact
You may frighten him
Let him come to you

Don't write a poem uninspired
It won't work out
In good time
Let it come to you

Don't go out there seeking love
Like a child with a butterfly net
Live your life
Let it come to you
I'm sampling all sorts of
tears to see which
tragedy suits me best.
Misery is good for art.
My stomach is churning and I keep
asking myself over and over
why why why why why
didn't I take the risk
when I was already on a burning bridge.

I am afraid of
my own voice when
my thoughts are the loudest.
Some people find
release
when they break
things. I'm throwing
my self esteem against
a brick wall
and the only cracks I can
find are in
myself.
I swear I wrote about fifteen poems this weekend and I hated them all. I squeezed my fingers a little harder and this maudlin thing dripped out..

But at least I did something! Tell me anything.
I'm emotionless
Yet full of hate
But I don't really care
I'm heartless
Cause I've never known love
And it's not really fair
I'm expendable
Yet I have some value
Cause I lay my lies bare
I'm worthless, stupid
And I've never found the truth
If only I could remember where
Then my life may have some use

Until then...
I guess I deserve the abuse
I think they laugh at me
Maybe because I'm strange
Could I be a somebody
Or is that a bit deranged

Can't they see I'm the same
I bleed just like they do
They treat me as if I'm lame
Ignoring me is their rule

So are you picking on the disabled
Thinking we're not fit to work
Because you wonder if I'm able
To be like everyone else who work

I never asked to be this way
I try to forget that horrid past
Not thinking of that terrible day
I wish that memory faded fast

I'm human, I am not someone lower
I'm human, stop knocking me down
I'm human, so I might be slower
I'm human, now put away that frown
Copyright © Chris Smith 2012
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