Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
My words won't sooth you

I've been guided and misguided ,i am out of depth

But let me introduce you to a perceptive a little more complex

On how you view life,

Whatever you may desire, exclude it from lies
Because the truth brings peace of mind

Invest in fellowship.
Sing, dance , imagine, but don't worship,
Unless in bed.

Communicate to the other what you like in ***.

Words Of Harfouchism.
 Aug 2018 Harley Oliver
trash bag
“hey” is the only thing you say
pressing your hand against the doorframe 
and leaning in
looking past me as if you would see anything different, but it's all the same
nothing has changed except maybe you and me
and whoever decides to fill my body next
the chain on the door covers your eyes
 and i can't help think about how different you look
like a stranger; one i wouldn't expect to meet me 
at my threshold with groceries in a brown paper bag
now, of course, you only bring me a heart 
and say it's nothing

“hey” is the only thing i say, 
unlatching the chain, and letting you inside
 like i'm letting you drip down my throat
i busy my hands with the locks,
 the locks i put there, at first, to keep you in, and then, eventually, to keep you out
but now it seems, to anybody watching this exchange between our worlds,
like i put them there 
to keep my back turned to you, 
to avoid you while you spread out on the couch 
and let all your dead-eyed visions collect on the coffee table

“hey” is the only thing you say
when you notice the missing ash tray,
the one you used to use as a church,
where each burnt shell was an empty prayer,
and each smoke tendril was a hand to send it up to heaven
now it's just a black spot engrained in the wood
now you're just a black spot engrained in the wood
some things did change, i guess, but nothing as much as the two of us.
i remember when our old bodies fit together so well,
and how they rested so easily right where you’re sitting
i remember when i shared that smoke with you and helped you send it up to wherever you wanted it to go
i want to talk to you about that smoke, now, among other stupid, half-symbolic things that i'm not entirely sure you’d understand or even remember,
but i don't. instead i finish with the locks, which are also stupid and symbolic, and spread out next to you on the couch
i wish i had my own dead-eyes visions to unload next to yours, but then i remember that i left all of mine
somewhere inside of you

“hey” is the only thing i say, and sometimes, its the only thing i can say.
 Aug 2018 Harley Oliver
Dawn King
Come walk with me
Let the river wind
The Shamans twine
Interlock & unravel
Infinite travel
These are the
Ancient ways
Step into the haze
Bridge keeper
Go deeper
Do not fear what
The other worlds hold
Need I be so bold
In each life
There is a price to pay
You must give over
To the Shaman way
Entranced, enchanted?
You wish to drink
From this flask?
Drop your ego
Wear the mask?
If this is
Where you belong
You have to want it
&
You must ask
Giving over to Shamanism
Come pick thy left pieces
For my brain still counts memories
Go behind my eyes
For thy shadow shines like flash light
Fetch my hanging appetite
The ulcers are feeding on your aroma
A glassful of your lip twists
For my thirst dines on flu
Take the slopping path
My heart waited longer than patience
Can i envy your smile
Its seen by many not me alone
I wish to color your dreams
With a range of roasted apples
If you tasted like wine
You could be the chained bottle to my wrist
Sometimes I wonder
Why I bunkered down in a den full of wolves
Being the only sheep
And hoping
Their belly’s are to full of raw meat
For them to worry about devouring me
Multiple chances
I’ve had to escape
But I was never the type to flock to my own
Or crowd up like sheep
Being lead in a herd is just not me
And I always felt as if I was never welcomed
I started losing my mind
When everyone that said they loved me started leaving
I started gasping for air
When I realized I stopped breathing
Carpet burns on the forefront of my toes
As a result
Of trying to stop myself from swinging
I couldn’t call for help
Because the rope around my neck stopped me from screaming
Couldnt come up with a title... opened to suggestions
I resonate
Smiling down from my room
Expectations kills reality
Just as reality kills fantasies

Are they my friends ?

I see the enemy in front of me
He is fearful and he is mocking me

Whispers and looks
Dishonest insects trying to be the center of attention in the room

I am aware of them
Their masks and uniforms
Their scent and their many forms

It is easy to be seduced
But not anymore
I will not be used

There are still many shapes for me to become
Wisdom is the opposite of freedom

I see the enemy in front of me
He is laughing and he is looking at me

I want to end this but he is not letting me

I see the enemy in front of me
Suddenly everything is clearer
I am looking at myself in the mirror

I can't feel anything

But i resonate

Words Of Harfouchism
I am my own enemy and my ego is stopping me from being happy
Minutes go by,
Hours go by,
Days go by,
and there is not one moment when I don't miss you.

No,
I miss the old you.

The one that holds my hand,
and not my heart.

The one that laughs with me,
instead of at me.

The one that only had one ******* his mind,
and that one girl was me.

Someday,
if it were ever possible,
I want to meet the old you,
and teach you how to stay...
The old you.

The much simpler times. The kinder times. The loving times.

I want to go there.
I usually think poems need to rhyme, but I decided I should switch it up a bit.
Next page