What if I was born out of soft *** cries and blooming flowers?
If I was born from the tears of the people in the falling towers?
If I was made by the gods or nature and trees,
If I was made out of spite to bring my father to his knees.

If I was made out of fluorescent lights and ambient sounds,
If I fell from the sky onto unholy grounds,
What if I ****** it up real bad and they sent me from hell,
And I was born with no memory of it and no secrets to tell.

Or I was just born from my mothers womb,
Boring but probably true,
She took all her love and gave me my youth.
But I don't quite remember so I'll have to make things up,
Of how I was made and born here,
How I became bad luck.

Come with me woman.
I can sense your fear,
But no need to be afraid,
I will transform your monochrome world,
Into colours of every shade.

You can trust me woman,
Yes, I know, tis hard,
Trust, a special gift to give,
I will wrap your trust in a loving embrace,
Show you how to live.

Please, care for me woman,
Hold me in your arms,
I will hold you so tight,
You won’t want the cuddling to ever stop,
Loving deep into the night.

Just love me woman,
Deep in your heart,
You can feel, I love you,
I will fly so high with your precious soul,
In summer skies of blue.

Please be my woman,
I truly am all yours,
I will share all I know,
Our days filled with laughter and smiles,
Tis seeds of love we sow.

Have faith in me woman,
Taste me in dreams,
You are my cherished lover,
And if you accept me, and all that I am,
I’ll never want another.

©Paul M Chafer 2015

theres a spot on the sun
i refer to it as a birthmark
its been there as long as i remember
no one else can see it
and when they say they do
they cant describe it how it is
they must think im crazy
and sympathize enough to lie

how can you see darkness
in something so bright?
is that a question
or are you telling me that im seeing darkness?
i never said it was dark

you get caught crying once
and gain a reputation of depression
thats none of your business anyway
your hug is so weak
you dont understand
stop saying you know how i feel

im not a charity case, you dont empathize
you dont "know how I feel"
i never said i was depressed
theres just a spot on the sun
you dont always
have to see to believe

What tempest rules the earth
around her girth clasps her axe
Thunderous lightening in twisted gales
forlorns amazon anger with her gods
Her voice screams for victory sought
in rumblings of the earth below
Touch not her heart of many stones
unless you dare to feel her wrath
upon your bones and wrench you
and ****** into the further pit of hell,
where dismal screams are heard
from bitter depths below
And snake like chains grind the cold
stonehenge ground pulled by bleeding ankles to the bone
Seek not merciful guidence from her wrath
or shelter from her axe or kindness from cold
black eyes but quiver from her icy demon touch
Succubus her nature be, she draws the air from you and me and yet a tempest all in one
Be hastened away by her tempest shrill
and collar you for good
Be alert not to roam too far
from your neighborhood

We are young men buried in books
Shoveling words every day
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Ours minds drained deep in the pools
Of knowledge. So they say
We are young men buried in books.

We find ourselves caught in hooks
Of wisdom seekers shall we pray?
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Exhausted, some will turn into crooks
While we proudly remain grey
We are young men buried in books.

We bear fruit of hope from the roots
Of pain so follow the rules we lay
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Are we zombies in schools?
In our paths we never stray.
We are young men buried in books
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

The spark of passion ignites the heart, until it is engulfed in a conflagration of notions, as curiosity triumphs over caution.

The seed of wisdom, planted in fields of knowledge, is cultivated and refined in kingdoms of intellect to innovate speeches of freedom.

Blisters in sweaty palms, rubbing against the pen, as it drifts between the paths of future and past, where hope is met and joy is felt.

Consumed by epiphanies, the heart-beat is felt by trembling hands, squeezing the pen for inspiration, to bewilder imaginations, giving birth to new perceptions.

the tree rises in the dark
fine needles, like fingers
forming in the love of the womb
like hay hooved back into the stable in the spring
spring. summer. No one can imagine the warmth;
a different warmth. sun warmth. animal warmth.

Curled up in winter, we nestle into a different warmth.
we huddle together like a litter of mammals for heat
in the nights of the storm
we feel Gods watching us
with fiery anger
and flowing loves
we see the streetlights like pathetic fires
sprawled out across the valleys
where the mist sets in the day and the sky consumes at dusk

the house is haunted
but we shake the old bones' hands,
we sing and dance and shout,
red in the face,
red in the blood, the heart,
we give the ghosts flesh so they may sit with us,
so we may love and cherish and laugh

so we may sleep safely wrapped around one anothers limbs
the great sprawl of humanity
awake again for the touch
of winter warmth.

There once was a little girl who dreamed big dreams.
Dreams that rose up like flowers that blossomed in the spring.
Dreams that shine brighter than the sun on a hot summer day.
Dreams that fell down in snowflakes on a sparkling Christmas winter.
But, one night, everything changed.

The storms of reality poured down like rain drops.
Tornadoes shook all her hopes down.
Pain pierced her as she drowned in her pool of tears.
This sudden sadness she endured was at an age where she was sixteen.

She thought growing up would be a pretty thing.
Looking all glamorous as she started dressing up in leather jackets.
Boys made her feel like she was a baby doll.
Her friends started being her family.
Soon enough she had all these realisations about life.
Now all she ever wanted was to turn back the clock, and turn six again.

Amidst all that she knew the past was long gone.
Therefore she had no choice but to move on.
And dream those big dreams she wanted ever since she was that little girl.

And
And
And
Please don't look at me that way,
Like I'm someone here to save you,
I'm just in an odd position,
Catch me in the brief moments when I'm around.
Is it the inconsistency that draws you?

Wish I was something else,
Or we were on different  planes
Where we weren't just floating parallels,
Maybe we'd collide?


Sorry.