What if
          I
                                                  ­Fall
In
              Love
With
      A
       Poet?
What if he mesmerises me
       With his lines?
What if
        His words touch me
        And kiss
           Through my skin?
     What if i search for
Him
Everyday
And
      Travel through
              His words
    And meet him
                  Somewhere
       And
We
       Become bare
          And he caresses
Me
          With every
      Stanza
And
       Here
           I am
                Again
Searching
           For him,
    Wanting
Him
        With
                 All
                      Desire
Waiting
             For
                 His
                   Next
                      Poem
                         To
                            Take
                             ­ Me
                          To
                       His
                   World
                Where
             We
          Will
        Lay
      Bare
   What if
               I
                  Fall in love
                      With
                  A
             ­         Poet?

© Evna-Luna

I sold my intimacy
for sake of publicity,
*** sells in democracy,
Lord Dollar, please set me free!

I see now - hipocrisy
takes over things I believed.

I'm naked, they look at me,
they buy me, they make me free,
but Freedom is what I seek.

Oh, Freedom is all I need
in times of Great Slavery,
when each day's a robbery.
I'm poorer than younger me,
I'm richer than older me.

I sold my intimacy
for sake of modernity
and shameless society
without any dignity.

My body's all they can see,
my body is all they need
to make them happy and free,

but, they, in reality
unhappy are, slaved for keeps,
so am I, and I can see
mistakes I've done, idiot me,
for sake of publicity,
I worship idiocracy,
****-riding pussocracy,
like war with Intimacy.

Half-naked girls in the street
and women ****** on the screen
by dumb masculinity.
Life-saving *******,
no, *******, you can't save me.

Where is my intimacy?
I've sold it, oh stupid me,
for sake of publicity,
*** sells in democracy.

i was broken
once.

i don't even know what
i was before
maybe a vase or a
common water glass
a ceramic mug or a glowing
stained glass window.

i don't know how
it happened maybe i
got dropped or cracked through
contact or the temperature
changed too quickly for
my fragile self to handle.

and i don't know who or
what cracked me like my
twelve year old cd cases
or if it was a slow stress
fracture brought on
by myself.

but the signs are
there
that i was broken
once.

yes, i was
broken
once
and i am still
shattered
in my darkest places.

but i make a
**** good mosaic.

One day the winds shall blow my way,
To the light, the light they always tried to explain,
to the feeling, the feeling we always resembled to that nothing we never touched.
To be possessed by the ways of nature, oh so beautifully uncontrolled, or what the Tao call "self so".

Our hearts beat "self so"
The winds blow "self so"
The female cats walk ever so coquettishly as they squint there eyes towards the sun light, "self so".

You seem to be the only one I can't stand
The only one I can't forget
I bang my head against the wall
Hoping the memory of you will fall out of it

You seem the be the only one
That I just can't shake
I drown myself in tears and liquor
Until I finally numb this heartbreak

But in my dreams you remain
These feelings never die
Every day I fight to neglect
This void you left behind

It is time for poetry to be recognized as a divine gift and the poet as the messenger of Divinity.

Among all of the art in this universe, I could never fathom a masterpiece more phenomenal than you.

I've been looking for you all around

I can't find you in old photographs
And sometimes I can't reach you by phone
    But when I look in the mirror and see my smile

*I know I've found you