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 May 2018 fagaveli
my muse is my sorrow,
if it did not exist i would not find beauty in the rain nor solace in my pain.
it'll always find different ways to manifest,
but at least it is safe to say
it is no longer my unwelcome guest.
Cigarettes and friends have so much in common
Friends are cigarettes to skin
The longer you hold them temptation grows within
To smoke or watch others choke
Cancer sticks, worse when ignited
So many people smoke and are delighted
To inhale the words of warning
Strangers are sticks and stones their words never hurt
With friends, this expression disappears
As if the pain doesn't accumulate every fiscal year
Running deep into your lungs, skin, and even the heart
Friends can do as much as a cigarette
We smoke our friends as if nothing is wrong and forget
Until our lungs and heart collapse and fill up with regret  
Quit cold turkey, suffer relapses try again later
Anything to soak up this toxic flavor
Friends or cigarettes?
Your choice of flavor to savor
 Apr 2018 fagaveli
reaching the back of you

not sure I could.      not sure i would.
       scent of the crime uncommitted uncovered

the meandering is the man demigod demagogue taking
         pleasured mercy
                                         the remaindered searchingly
                                                                ­                                 suffices

you don’t speak plain english the only tongue i got
insert the coin in your slot commencing researching the
way in and
don’t think i want to find the way out to the
back of you hiding in the inside learning the way you visualize

playing amy winehouse as an overlaying graph to the autoroute
to the south of france, sur-la-mer, why ever leave and you come
in my mouth poems new each time

no exit. no back of you.  stuck in a longingly heaven

this house is my home and I know the sun brightest
when i put my coin in the slot of play and press the
new tune button at 4:10AM
thanks for the quirky comments for this quirky poem.  Not my normal style. Inspired by a poet here who writes quirky poems, many of which, I fail too, to fully comprehend. The only way I could hope to understand them was to  "insert the coin in your slot commencing researching the way in and  don’t think i want to find the way out to the back of you, hiding in the inside learning the way you exit. no back of you.  stuck in a longingly heaven" and getting stuck, unsure if I want to reach...
 Apr 2018 fagaveli
 Apr 2018 fagaveli
I fear the unreasonable indeterminate,
Anxiety that gushes over like a fountain.
My body is trapped in lethargy,
Naught an ounce of motivation to move.

I begin to step and prove,
That my anxiety has turned me petty.
My thoughts trap me in my pain,
I begin to question my fate:

Why do I fear the unknown?
Why can't I escape?
Why haven't I grown?
Why is there a hole; a gape?

I enter into another phase called apathy.
It turns into blatant antipathy.
It exhausts my soul until I become empty.
I get filled again due to hypocrisy and piety.

I wake up; wanting to go to bed.
I can't sleep; my anxieties cover my head.
I get frustrated and I ache.
I give into despair and break.
I get fixed; inescapable, I said.


...I can't escape
 Apr 2018 fagaveli
Addison René
when i first started driving
my mom told me i was
too inexperienced
to enjoy the scenery

now i'm in my 20s
and all i think about
is the scenery


how easy it could be
to crash into any tree
 Apr 2018 fagaveli
Their hands
 Apr 2018 fagaveli
She was the poet, her hands stained with ink
He was the soldier, his hands stained with blood

The gentle hands of a dreamer intertwined with the rough hands of a fighter.
 Apr 2018 fagaveli
You are the only one who my madness doesn't touch,
and the only entity whom can touch my heart, simultaneously.

Tell me, "I love you."
Say it with conviction.

Wait for the time.
Where the nine realms collide.

A touch of insanity with a wicked kiss.
Silver-laced tongue, sharp and keen.

Did pleasure ever feel this exquisite?
from a morals hands, calloused from tiresome battles.

Verily; with hands carved from flesh and blood.
life and death.

A hundred times over;
have I fled from a lovers touch?

A thousandth time;
did I plea for mercy.

I spit the cry out
with fire and brimstone burning my throat.

For all this chaos and despair surrounding me,
A god on his knee's begging for repentance.

What a sight to behold;
malevolent creature with a benevolent cause.

I worship you,
a man made of Iron

You are the only one who my madness doesn't touch,
and the only entity whom can touch my heart.

Frostiron anyone?
 Apr 2018 fagaveli
a maki
 Apr 2018 fagaveli
a maki
talk to me, willow tree
tell me of the life you lead.
does the wind cool you down
when your leaves fall to the ground,
or do you like the sense of relief?
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