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Dec 2011 · 767
April in Diamond eyes
Constantine Dec 2011
slamming onto white keys on a piano,
enough rude chords to think the strings would snap;
From such harsh playing passionate sweat falling from eyelashes
from closed eyes. Age could be shown by hands rough corners and the
story behind every wrinkle. you could't see years past his beard, just a stern man
hunched over with fastidious fingers. Whom was not even playing music anymore but
just sound, brutal and beautiful sound.
Nov 2011 · 769
Scorched Storm
Constantine Nov 2011
Rocks as rough as tough love, resemble your
once smooth shelled hard stubborn heart. In spite
of any fight, your words lash like vicious lightening
in the night. Your eyes the worst part of a storm, clouds creep
under your eye lids; drowning feels like the norm. Only in a brief
pause of distress can I get close enough to wrap and sooth you like
blankets of beautiful melodies holding and warming your snow pail arms.
Your head would just stay down, never looking towards or even just alittle over
the horizon. So as the searing smile of Sun moves down, I whisper in her velvet ear
"Look past the clouds Darling, and see the stars. They look beautiful when they shine
off your eyes. Small bright points that keep my heart warm, in the eye of your storm.
Nov 2011 · 715
Unspoken Silence
Constantine Nov 2011
Another quiet morning, heavy clouds are pouring
And I could have been sound asleep snoring
Instead I miss the sound of your voice
Warming, soothing, my ears euphony of choice
Separated by distance in the rain, watch my heart flood
And slowly take the pain
Lips as bitter as black coffee, because nothing felt more
Sweeter than a “good morning Darling”
Always had to be a struggle, for us, to be two people to
Get along and cuddle. But words never got to close
Always end up in a quite rebuttal.
How every breath of silence only sets down a fence
Hurtful, daunting, dense silence makes pain seem immense
Coming to remember now, pass times that were bliss
Back in the summers when it would only take a kiss
And It make makes me happy the ways our love grew
So I’ll never stop writing love poems to remind you
“Roses are red, and Violets are violet. There’s no need
for words Darling, our smiles are silent."
Oct 2011 · 622
Midnight Muzzle
Constantine Oct 2011
please Dear god help me tame this beast
every night is a fleshful feast
alawys staring in the heart of temtaions eyes
under the blanket of the midnight moonlight sky
disire's voice biting my ear
and pleasing thoughts far from a sear
oh how the waves of lust crash
calm then violent tides pass
and the wall of passion stops me
wide eyed in the cold
in the rain
Oct 2011 · 992
Poor Lemonade
Constantine Oct 2011
I could hear each splash of sweat dripping on the table...
my hand felt so dry; the young girl took the lifeless solf vascular dollar
from my sun harden hand, and handed me a transparent glass with
four frozen cubse of ice, and warm lemonade...
Oct 2011 · 819
Hazel Gutter Candy
Constantine Oct 2011
cling to the daliy
figmental clock that wakes you
in the morning. sleep wth your bed
as if the sun was always stuck at rising.
plunging into a think fluffy cloud
the sky feels like a dream.
Oct 2011 · 605
Downtown Dreamer
Constantine Oct 2011
church girls, the ones whom
lie, cheat, steal, and pray.
Oct 2011 · 612
Dog Dirt
Constantine Oct 2011
Life can just taste like mud
like your licking it off the steal toe boot
that kicked you to the floor in the first place,
yet we all stand up or die, and it is a sad choise
but it can turn few into sunset admiring warriors
and others in to those whom can survive an oil infested
jungle. ether way falling into a personal void like getting
lost on the moon is how it can all start...getting lost in the jungle
drowning in the oil, it keeps going life, even when we stop
and sometimes we just look up in the sky and eat it.
Oct 2011 · 1.4k
Garbage Crown
Constantine Oct 2011
your the king
your the king
of everything, and
anything. but only
if you work for it then,
but then it becomes
nothing. and you only
get it, when it becomes
trash. and you walk away
as if it were now garbage.
and maybe then you can look
back and if you have'nt walked to far,
make a dission to throw it away or walk
away.
Oct 2011 · 604
Ink in between her Legs.
Constantine Oct 2011
i look down on these people as if they were me
never looking for a helping hand, because everyone's
out stretch long, i'll stand in the middle trying not to be
scene. my hand on my chin pondering in though with my eyes
heavy in silence, and still I don't stop to stick my pierced tough out
to all the drunken owls. because i'm a fish looking for open minds, and
not afraid to run into any cool cats that are able to boil the warm water i swim
in. because at any time I can take flight, and be a frozen angle in time; who can
rom around and fix broken ships, that keep crashing. so smiles can lead to kisses
were one enemy can poke another, and friend ships  become seed. that can open hearts
like locks, you just need the key, and if you can paint her an ocean as deep as her soul she
just might give you that key. and thats when you tell her the truth, hold her hands and stand
tall with conviction. but you can't...your heart aches, and you grasp it tight like a butterfly was
caged inside. and, and you stared at me, crossed your legs, and i dropped the anchor. I didn't know
what to say, i mean after all it wasn't me...
Oct 2011 · 647
playing in the Dark
Constantine Oct 2011
my mind is like a clock, that will only work backwards
ticking time bombs who's only mission is to destroy
working with weapons of mass innovation
causing and increase in creation  
almost always working in pen,
because I'll never make a mistake
won't draw to close to my face
and never breath in the think ink,
breath air, life, and art
I always start last
and most of the time never finnish
but I was taught
to hold everything close
because the only predictable thing
about life is it's unpredictability
so i would spray paint
"Fu.uK pigs" on police walls
because people are to over rated,
and why is it that my paint brushes
are the only ones to understand the messages
that want to leap off the canvas.
and sit impatiently on my stool
trying to find a meaning.
Oct 2011 · 428
Didn't see it coming
Constantine Oct 2011
He was so unexpected
He took random by surprise.
Oct 2011 · 475
One of those days...
Constantine Oct 2011
Eyes hanging
to the ground
her lips, kissing
the cigarette
she stared empty
into the rain
each drop
feeling like a
paused thought
the cigarette still
turned to ash
you pulled it from your mouth
and tossed it to the sea.

— The End —