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I know poetry
Made me age quicker as each
Line wrote are wrinkles.
Just a perspective. Haha.
Beauty has always
Shined from your heart, mind and soul,
Since the beginning.
I haven't had much time and won't have much time to write. So I thought I'd put a few Haiku's on that I wrote on my lunch break today, just for you guys! Just quick thoughts, that's all :) I'll be back soon!
There was a time words were seen in colors
I saw many hues and saturation
tones and shades were not hidden
until you decapitated my heart

I gave you everything I had, not just a little
My heart, my soul, my words, my actions
I trusted you and you took it for granted
cast me aside when I needed you most

You were the one that I pursued relentlessly
I made sure I loved you 'til I bled
& at first sight of blood you fled
because you're at war with love

and after the scars you've given me
I wish I had never met you
never been in your life
because you broke me
discarded me
left me

i cant even hate you...
I did everything I could to save our friendship, but you're always at war with love. So I hope you're okay and I never want you in my life again. You're not the person that I knew. Always remember you're the one that left, called it quits. Don't ever forget that.
rock smashes scissors
break our swords
Scissors cut paper
tear up our poetry
paper covers rock.
shielded by policy

we have our voices.
all rock, all scissor, all paper.
all spock, all lizard
we do not play games, we Speak.
We throw spock hands like Gang signs
spit parsel tongue at pride haters
we write love letters to revolution
We cut red tape with our long fuzes
Hit rock bottom, more bass in our
Voices than god knows what to do with
So we tell him exactlly where it should go.

Rock Paper Scissors Lizard Spock

They hold their pens like scissors
carving history books into erasure poems

We would swing our pens like swords.
But no leader we trust has been elected yet.

We would have a leader to guide us
But snakeoil salesmen plague our trenches.

There would be no snakeoil salesmen if
we had a stable government

We would have a stable government
but the stability was sharpied out of our history books.

And To history, loud voices sound
like the fires of god.
And are we not the voices with more bass then God knows what to do with.
without words on the wind,
There is no flame
so aren't we fire.

We all have tealights waiting in cold oven hearts.
stone hearths begging for Ignition
eager for bootleg promises of warmth
The orange rhetoric of our future
no warmer than tinders logo.
or a video recording of a fireplace
flickering on a flatscreen at best buy.
We are distracted constantly.
misdirected by Houses of paper cards
origami swans we don't dare unfold
Staying ignorant of the tire track liner inside.
origami swans are so much more beautiful
when they have secrets, right?

I have a matchstick
watch me strike it lit
flare this paper swan into a pheonix.
And hold it in my fist.
there will be fire.
and it will not be a metaphor
But It will be a revolution
And it will be a pheonix
and the pheonix WILL be a metaphor

The Rabbi at Temple Beth El
said when a mans consumed by gods fire
it is a severance from faith, a spiritual death.
what have we done
if not lost faith in our government?
Been consumed by the fires of god.
and why not tattoo pheonix feathers
on our backs?
at least this death gave us warmth.
a home in the world's ashes.

I stared at the dragons fire that stormed towards me
thanked it for the oppurtunity
to walk out of this world
holding dragons eggs
Like Daneris Tygareon
and they will be real dragons.
incubated by REAL fire
despite this crumbling cataclysm
you call a great america.
Spock handed Lizards larger and louder
with all the rocks
paper and scissors they need
to set the world on fire.
To Finally see something beautiful be born.
A Home that keeps them warm.
He squeezes her shape into a suit that fits
But happily disregards the ones that don't,
As every material or materialistic item
Is merely just temporary clothing he wears for his comfort.

Her silky waist down and up to her cotton flammable heart,
Both burn and tear just as easy as the next,
Despite his sweet persona,
He's as bitter and acidic as chemistry gone wrong.

But he washes and rinses her into a wave of hope,
And she drowns,
Because she has been habituated to drowning.

Cold bones is her love,
But he always glides away like a ghost in the night,
Questioning whether he bleeds the same blood,
Because is it humanly possible to do the things he could.

She has dreamt of his silhouette all night
But is unable to see the whole faded image,
The silence has become part of her,
You clipped the angel wings she would bare just for you
And is no longer able to fly.

Instead she drowns in an ocean that you quaked,
Suffocated on an island of crashed cold bones,
Cold, cold bones.

Even when she was the soldier
That never fled from battle,
You made her the brute
With a machine heart and machine mind,
Steered from her innocence
And tenderness to be kind.
As promised! Just a quick writen whilst on my lunch break at work! Haha.
You've moved on
You're living life
I'm still counting days
Since my heart died

the pain
the numbness
the subtle suffering


I've lost track
How many days?
I know you're gone
Never coming back

the lonesome tears
the fragrance you left on my heart
the empty beds


Just know I miss you
My wish upon stars
Sparkle of gold
Killer of my heart

*the shock of loss
the bitterness of loss
why did I lose you?
I watch them
walk in: slow, not quite *****

white beard on one,
double chin on another

I estimate their seasons--an
appraiser assessing damages

of gravity and grief, cells
dividing, multiplying without relief

I was a lanky, lurching teen
when they were yet in diapers

soon, they'll be clad
in such humble attire again

I'll be there waiting, already
accustomed to such leaking humility
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