Destroy me.
Take what you can from the middle.
Take that golden yellow moon-
that sherbert sunset in the center of how I exist,
**** it, take it!
And Stubbornly I'll be.
When all that is left is bones for the jackal to
satiate on
when all that is heard is bubbles popping
and the jaw creaking
from
the overuse of what was inside me-
When that dark and silken predator
lies lazy on it's back
with my contents fuming in its distention...
destroy me, do.
***** my remains
with huge heaving gusts of your gluttony.
Because you will.
Because I am too heavy to carry, I am too light to settle.
Oh, yes I'll be your posion,
and into every cell I will invade
marching with my army, marching with my anger
I will wiggle in your ear and chew through the pictures in your mind,
eating at the corners of everyone you covet most.
I'll call you in a singsong voice that does not end.
In every room you'll look to hear-
in every corner your try to hide from it.
I will flood your soul with my wrongdoings so you
carry mine as well as yours.
Yes, destroy me-
dust.
And you will perish from my digestion
and you will carry my heavy sins.
Oh, what is left? What is left?
Just the eternal weight of light
and you cannot eat that,
On light you can feast
but not thrive.
It will not still the noise
of the rotting wood
that sits solid and solitary
in the place
where someone stole
your exclusive rights
to feel
joy.


Sahn 3/26/2015

It is raining outside,
Everything wet,
Soil, tree, terrace, flower ***, gate, wall,,,,
But aridity stifles inside,
Head, heart, hand.....
Like the fruits of silk cotton tree,
Cutlery ruptures thought
Humanist is slaughters on the street.....
But slayer forget that
In extreme dryness
When fruits of dry Cotton silk tree explode
It’s diffuse
Germinate in wet soil
and grow everywhere,
Humanist will emit all over again!

Hundreds of words ago,
I made art.

Hundreds of art ago,
I made you up.

In colours, I hung you with a nail.
In words, I sprang you to life.

But now you look better in my erased sentences
And my now looks even better than ago.

When you're happy,its hard to write Poetry
Other then, Hallmark Greeting Card Sappy
Thoughts drift Slowly through your mind
But after it all, There is nothing to Find
Coffee! that's what's missing, what you need
But you only get nothing done, at a faster Speed
Nothing to write comes to mind, nothing to say
Oh well, so much for that, maybe again another Day*


All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack

There’s little joy in life for me,
And little terror in the grave;
I’ve lived the parting hour to see
Of one I would have died to save.

Calmly to watch the failing breath,
Wishing each sigh might be the last;
Longing to see the shade of death
O’er those belovèd features cast.

The cloud, the stillness that must part
The darling of my life from me;
And then to thank God from my heart,
To thank Him well and fervently;

Although I knew that we had lost
The hope and glory of our life;
And now, benighted, tempest-tossed,
Must bear alone the weary strife.

she wanted to enjoy her year,
but her constant state of mind
is a long glass wall.
looking through the
other side,
her lover lives.
on her current side,
she is no longer safe
around the people she trusts most.
the other side has her
words plastered on every
surface visual to the world.
positivity.
the grass is not necessarily
greener, but the mountains,
my god,
are taller and fresher
with the lakes sparkling
beauty.
solitude.
her current side contains
her words sprayed on to
every surface
invisible to the world.
negativity.
she hides away.
her lover speaks
with swords.
her best friend takes
the heartbeat away
in her sleep.
her mountains are muddy.
isolation; danger.

been waiting for you a really long time
hoping you'd just walk into my life
or into my room while I'm sitting there
smoking cigarettes  sipping tea writing poetry
like a surprise from Heaven
like a divine gift
like food in the desert from God
like a candy store Paradise for ant
like a video game arcade that's free of charge
like a buffet from all over the world
like a womanizer who never realized he was a Muslim martyr
like a man god who's got a million brides
like a boy whose worshiped on earth
like a toy whose job is to provide pleasure
like a clown whose a court jester
like a poet who never knew it
like a god who was sleeping all his life
like an angel who loved the devil
like a man who sold himself for love
like a fool in tarot who owns the world
like the wind that never stays in one place
like the fire of love that burns the sea
like the eyes that are the gateway to the soul
like the soul that is lost and unlike any other
like the love that is the Only one love story
that God wrote with her own hands.

One more time
I'd like
to see you.
But
it really wouldn't matter.
You buried
your heart
when
he seared your soul
so many years ago.

And now,
you float
in darkness,
devouring others
with your rejection.

Hold me...

tightly

...once again
darling.

I love
the pain
of my broken heart.