If i was her lover
I would have poetic *** in the ocean
reciting poetry to her
while I **** her
mindlessly

If i was her lover
She would be the mermaid of the ocean
Whom I am jealous to touch
and while I am here wading
wanting to make sweet love with its bride

If only I was her lover
I would whisper passions in her ear
like waves whispering on the shores
of her children

The water of the sea, he chokes me
surrounds me
but i am having poetic *** in the sea
with she

and i say to her, my lover
"i met a mermaid out in the sea
she came to me and poetic *** she needs
i grabbed her heart
and laid inside her
see i'm still a man who wants pleasure
and poetry together
i'm jealous of her lover
yet i'm having poetic *** with her
in the ocean"

My love moans
groans
let's me own
her majestic bones
and her ravaged soul
is radiating
with every ******
beckoning passion
in this historic sensation
so intense
so loud
so real and unreal

and in her throes i hear
water logging in my ear
this moment here
of me ******* my lover
in the sea
i guess that's why they call it
******* poetry.

A dogs vision
two partial colors
both their names
black and white
are its sight

behold the dog
mans trusting and loyal friend
always seeing you
in
black and white
humans have the spectrum
in their eyes
witnessing the blood
in a ******
but closing their mouth
admiring the greens
in a field
but is too daft to see
the blues and the yellows

here everything is
black and white
nothing tainted with hue
or marked by tone
shade
color

my poems are red
see guidelines are red
but the rest is
*black and white

above this skull of cracks and calcium
is the transcending spiral to climb
to climb

this psychedelic reunion
with the blurring of sides
leaving a tunnel vision
of blinding light

black behind closed eyelids
colors within a soul
keys to the afterlife
or after shock
or after wave
after
i have left this physical plane

transcending into a vortex
of pure light and floating ceilings
a distorted reality unfolds

nevertheless a reality much real
and so full of life
this becomes my home
i am *transcending

I am no *** minded
hormone raged
scarred
scathed
bruised
burned
oily greasy mess
of a boy

I'm both a lover and a ******
A sinner and a sack of redundant words

My harm is to myself
so why take the cross?

This is not the tired sleep can fix

This is not the demotivation inspiration can cure

Not my purpose, not my please
just a sore and timeless tease
that wakes me up in the deepest of hours
and shakes my bones
when i most desperately need peace

following set paths
walking through the motions
a detour branched ahead
the turn i had not taken

this tragic conclusion
puts my mind in circles
such weight laid on me
of the path i can not see

will it bring me closer
to my desired destination
what terrors await me there
beyond the bending road

still this brick line
i so carefully chose
has led me here
where the terrain rose

now i make my choice
yet again
once more
for how many turns i make
it is a change
i will take
it is a turn
i will take
change is imminent
*change is imminent

the throne
has been placed;
my mind
now surfaced
the thoughts once concealed
within invisible barriers
now burst through

what is a composition in verse,
especially one
that is characterized
by a highly developed artistic form
and by the use of heightened language
and rhythm
to express an intensely
imaginative
interpretation
of the subject.

for here are the beginnings of
this 'what'
it is not a 'where'
a 'when'
or a 'how'
it simply is what it is

a poem
these are the *beginnings