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 Feb 2016 David Swinden
Rapunzoll
i swirl in van gogh.
i am charcoal stains
on blue,
a smile of barbed wire
for the painter,
i am mona lisa, true.

monet, he paints me
calm waters,
water lilies floating
in solitude,
he doesn't see
the fire sprouting
in my veins.

picasso cannot stain
my heart with colour,
magritte cannot
create a masterpiece
out of my eyes.

to be immortalized
i beg in pink
lick the brush
and paint myself
alive.

end my days
in escher,
sketch myself
out of the stairway,
into the globe.

throw myself
at deaths eye,
kiss the canvas
rotten, ******,
*pretty.
© copyright
 Feb 2016 David Swinden
Rapunzoll
tonight, something a little
stronger than poison
runs through my veins

it festers, intangible,
pretty like belladonna,
sweet like nightshade

it sways in the wind
of my lungs, it has it's
own tune you see.

i know it's a plague,
like him, we've all
been infected once.

tonight, it's angry,
venomous,
gardens of deep rose

and happiness returns
to being but a distant,
wavering sun.
© copyright
Brown yellow rusted pages
None read
None would for ages
Lying on the pave

Blurred is the title and name
Lost dream and never born fame
Wisdom of long bearded sages
Dumped in the grave

Dusty old forgotten write
Feasted upon by termite
What to author full of sense
Fetch not any pence

Should I buy take home to read
Not treat it like just **** ****
Spend some time in smelling old
See if bring some gains?
To love and be loved

We all crave the same fiery temptation

To feel and to be numb

We contrast the beauty of love

To be broken and to be rebuilt

We have all seen an illusion of love

To smile and to cry

We fear love because sometimes love hurts

To drown and to float

We sink in despair, waiting to be rescued

To be confident and to be insecure

We weren’t born the same

Most of us hate ourselves

Wishing to be remade

Or maybe wishing to never exist at all

To be heard and to be ignored

We hold everything inside because everyone on the outside is too busy to listen

To be untruthful or to be truthful?

Truthfully. .

We are blinded by our fears

So far deep in our tears

We run from love because we never been chased by love

We accept less because we think that’s all we deserve

We reject love because we are tired of getting hurt

We feel like we are ugly because he or she is more appealing

We camouflage ourselves because we feel like society will judge us

We die inside because we never felt alive

We limit love because we never experienced it’s measures

To love and be loved ?

We will never understand it’s depth

Why?

Because first we have to **love ourselves
 Jan 2016 David Swinden
Graff1980
She is my second favorite poet on this list
But she doesn't need to be reminded of this
She doesn't give a ****
Cause she is here for her
Not for my approval
As she hits the high note
Of the last bars that she wrote
With a little sneer she disappears
Holding that disdain in her veins
From years of abuse

I compliment her but
My blandishments fall on angry ears
She fakes gratitude
Not understanding the sincerity
Of my compliments
Assuming I am sexualizing her
That I am just another perv

I understand
I thank her and walk away
Never letting even an inkling show
Through my face
But I am disappointed

She could have been my ally
Not my lover or fling but friend
Dismisses me so offhandedly and angrily
But I let it slide
There is always other nights
There are always other venues
Under softer lights
Where writers delight
In what others write
And they are not so angry
But she is still my second favorite
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