26 | 31 Poems for August 2016

Wondering how life will pan out from this moment on as ****** by Usher keeps echoing in the background.
Maybe it was wrong of me to have you stay by my side while your mind was already drifting a million miles away from me.
My love and faith will be dissected; you’ll even go as far as quoting me out of context based on the messages that I’ve sent.
But that’s something that I should expect because I’m also at fault like tectonic plates.
Charles once told me that things would change but not always for the better.
He said as long as I prove myself to be King then I’ll eventually find someone as phenomenal as Coretta.
But Charles I’m slowly losing hope, that Skype call we had on August 14th gave me some perspective and maybe I’m doing something wrong.
Because all day I’ve been sitting here all alone while contemplating if I am going nowhere fast.
Wondering how life will pan out from this moment on as Let It Go by James Bay keeps playing on the radio.
Maybe it was wrong of me to have you stay by my side while your mind was already drifting a million miles away from me.

25 | 31 Poems for August 2016

A few months ago you didn't know that I could write or recite like that.
My notebook is full of broken masterpieces that fail to come together like contour lines.
If my art goes unappreciated, unnoticed, unloved and unpublished then just know that I wrote from the heart.
I know that love is a beautiful thing but sometimes I feel like its main intention is to tear me apart.
So don’t be too surprised when I tell you that I’m slowly falling to pieces.
The ocean in my muse’s eyes reminds me of the colour of the sky and how I want to dive into the depths of who she is.
The world has made her feel like an abandoned church but in my eyes she’ll always be a cathedral.
She will always be a cathedral and you can say hallelujah or amen to that.
We are from the city where jacaranda trees light up the streets with their purple blooms.
Went from breaking up, breaking down, breaking through to finally breaking new ground.
So even though I’m hurting now I know I’ll eventually be safe and sound when a new season comes around.
I’m still fascinated by spring, jacaranda petals and the countless anthologies that Mother Nature continues to write.
Reading the lines on a woman’s skins is poetry and too many men are illiterate.
So they will never truly understand the fact that liberty begins with literacy.
My notebook is full of broken masterpieces that fail to come together like contour lines.
Even if my art goes unappreciated, unnoticed, unloved and unpublished I will always write from the heart.

24 | 31 Poems for August 2016

This is not my life, it’s just a temporary façade, if you listen to my voice you’ll discover that it’s my disguise.
I fully acknowledge the fact that I am not perfect but I’d love to believe that I’m worth it.
The hardest part of saying goodbye is seeing me cry and knowing that I’ll no longer get the chance to see you smile.
I wrote this on a Tuesday morning while listening to Siegfried by Frank Ocean while reading the pages of a Dan Brown novel.
I’d build Rome for you in a day and make you forget about all the negative things that critics always say.
Heartbreak comes in the morning when the sun is shining and the wind is blowing.
My heart breaks as I try to piece this piece together and hopefully find peace by the end of this masterpiece.
I’m tired like the Michelin Man but I still have great drive like a brand new Bentley or Benz.
Some days I’m more Bukowski than Dickens, flipping through the pages of my life as the plot thickens.
They say perception is flawed and distorted, perception is key and I need to find a locksmith.
Contemplating about unexpected goodbyes while living off a temporary high.
A part of me had already anticipated the heartbreak so this time around the effects were less detrimental.
My eyes and mind are blinded by the love that my heart obstinately believes in.
I’m thankful for your love, you gave me something to believe in but the time has come for me to be leaving.
This is not my life, it’s just a temporary façade, if you analyse my poetry you’ll discover that it’s my disguise.

23 | 31 Poems for August 2016

Say something, and no, I am not giving up on you.
I just want you to listen to Diddy Bop or maybe that Freedom Interlude.
I just want to know if you’re listening to the words that I’m saying.
All that I’m trying to do is live right and give you all the best parts of me.
No matter how hard I try, I can never write a poem as beautiful as you.
I do not know if that says much about me or the words that I constantly use.
Wrote these poems from the heart so every single word you read or hear is guaranteed to be a pulse.
I’ve been digging the soles of my shoes into the ground just to keep myself steady and balanced.
I hope that our love has a happy ending or keeps overflowing until infinity finds a need to end.
Being loved by you and loving you is the only thing that makes sense right now.
I’m banking on you to not withdraw from the love we have both invested in.
I still smell the sweet scent of your presence on the white cotton sheets of my memory.
You are the first love poem that I ever wanted to write back when I didn’t have the courage to.
Say something and I promise that I will follow you anywhere God leads me to.
I’m Lonnie Lynn with the poetry and maybe that explains why we have a lot in common.

22 | 31 Poems for August 2016

I’ve been looking all over for you, so tell me where have you been?
You can’t seem to remember how you got to loving me the way you do.
I wrote this at around 2 a.m. on a Sunday morning while thinking about you.
You will always be my favourite love poem, written on the sands of time.
Now that I’ve finally found you, I never want to write our breakup poem.
I didn’t know how good love felt until the day you began to love me the way you have.
Sometimes my communication skills are as bad as my handwriting is.
But my kisses are as good as my intentions, so you can go ahead and rub your smile onto my lips.
You have become the poems and stories woven in the veins of my loving heart.
You are the reason why I remained whole while my world was falling apart.
I’ve been looking all over for you and I’m glad that I’ve finally found you.
My hands were writing about love long before I knew what poetry was.
But I didn’t know what love was until the day you began to love me.
I’m banking on you to not withdraw from the love we have both invested in.
Even though the world may read the pages of my heart, my poetry will always belong to you.
Now that I’ve finally found you, promise me that you’ll never let me go.

21 | 31 Poems for August 2016

The cuts on her wrists help to express the feelings she cannot put into words.
Despite the pain she feels,  she feels the urge to constantly hurt herself again.
I want to be her sunshine through the rain and be her love through the pain.
She once said "Self-hurt became the only way to cope, I'm hanging by a thread and I hope no one cuts the rope."
Maybe no one will ever truly understand the type of love and happiness that she has begun to humbly demand.
The teenage girl who cuts herself knows that morphine cannot ease her pain.
She bleeds every night and believes that her scars will make her feel all right.
She has been tirelessly walking around with the burden of a broken heart.
She uses countless razor blades just to refrain herself from falling apart.
Mom doesn't know because during the day her scars don't clearly show.
Carefully concealed to avoid the eyes of prying friends, she'd rather converse with a stranger.
Inflicting pain on herself became the only way to cope, she's hanging by a thread and hopes that no one cuts the rope.
The teenage girl who cuts herself is trying to exorcise the demons she has regrettably danced with.
She has wounds a Band-Aid cannot cover and experiences pain that morphine cannot dissipate.
The teenage girl who cuts herself is patiently waiting for love to dominate.
The cuts on her wrists help to express the feelings she cannot put into words.
She believes that her marks and scars will eventually make everything all right.
The day she embraced God's love, her demons questioned the value of their existence.

in a tea house
a jasmine girl
plays a piano
shimmering a
song of soft keys
to a lotus blush
of fine infusing leaves.

morning, the jewels
of dawn’s filigree nets
a summer storm
in a wintry sky
coaxed out of
a melody of
incense, trembling
to the infinite
blossom of
tranquil, arching
skies.

your poetry, the
cadences of the sun
unwrapped,
the light of the
ocean
breathed
in,
beautiful moons
that weep for
life’s joys,
wild summer
in our hearts.

What is it she whispers?
Outside..
The brittle bleach decor rustles shy applause
Inside….
half encumbered slumber wins
The aching World to part made play
Arcadian chapels hover in folds
That form in the fields of gathering grey

and still she whispers.

Damp calico dales murmur and shift
in the twist of a tremor.
A cold palm press upon temples that pulse
for the touch of another that passes
high over the way…

What is it, she whispers?

Witch-fingers lift at the filigree latches,
saltwater patches salivate free…..
..lasciviously.
beneath the list of chalking blinds
rim- shot eyes scour windswept causeways

Always searching,

Always waiting,
For some unknown.

And still she whispers...

19 | 31 Poems for August 2016

These ideas of nightmares I usually have when the night stares.
I know that I unintentionally pushed you away several times that day.
But listen to me, regardless of what happened I still need you to stay.
I’m trying to make more memories but my Kodak has run out of film.
Maybe I should buy a Canon and digitally capture these moments for forever.
“You’ve got hyperhidrosis but don’t sweat the small stuff” is something I imagine you to say.
The future is uncertain and things inevitably change but I’d love for you to stay.
I could try to act all tough and conceal my fears but I’m as scared as you are.
Back when this connection was ignited, we never thought that we would end up this far.