I am angry in the way that
bubbles in champagne
rocket towards air.
I am pretty-
in that beige and golden way.
That heat paints my face,
Scolds my cheeks-
like an iron to the crispest collar
of a well-dressed man.
And I am virile in the hot.
Lovely reds and pinks and
eyes that catch-
LaCross nets that
will not meet your gaze
lest you see the squall
I work so hard to hide.
I am breathless with my rage,
and oh, so beautiful! Finally.
In my pain,
I am dry and fragile
brittle leaves crunching underfoot,
the salt left careless by the sea.
Nothing grows in me-
nothing grows in me.
I am dead sea
and beauty floats boastful where
love cannot swim.
For I carry this grief
in the way a river stone
bears the weight of the rushing water.
The lovely
and the ruthless.
The heinous
and the clean....
the very worst of me
is the prettiest to see...
Naked before the judges table
I have no shame.
"Such a pity", they'll say.
"Such a beautiful girl,
all that anger in such a beautiful girl."

Sahn
3/24/15

there ain't no "Howl" in me.
Just the need of a fix.
       Love of peace and Jazz.
I still roam intrigued
   his passages, and mine here in Daleville,
among the cornstalks, my head can't ever stick out above the yellow
         fringed hayseeds.
I read of angel-headed dark Blake-like tragedy
the again coming wars, and I suspend,
        the beliefs,
that mine could transcend the dark of war,
or make a poem so right.
Or ever make a difference as the head banging
just keeps on.

(You're beautiful.)

You are the rain after a long winter,
The country stars on a midsummer night,
The soft breeze when I stand by the ocean,
And the peace after a long lasting fight.
You are the sweetness of innocent love;
You are as deep as that first broken heart;
You are untouched by time's strong clawing clasp;
You are living, breathing, magical art.

In ten years, I believe my life will be great.

And every day that passes, I add on to it,
Memories swirling through my head.

Dreams of mine are sweet and simple
Elegant, in their own exquisite way
And I treasure them dearly
Dreaming of beautiful times to come.

In ten years from now, I'll be in love;
Not with just anyone, but he will be my
S o u l m a t e
In every shape and form; he'll protect me.
Dreams do come true; I'll prove it.
Everything will be okay, ten years from now.

most people read from left to right, not up and down.
read me from left to right, you'll understand what I really say;
read me up and down, you'll understand what I actually mean.
people are deeper than they are given credit for.
remember that.

I dreamed I dug a bullet
out of my own thigh.
I asked if I might bleed to death
and they said no
as long as I packed it with happy thoughts
and my mind went blank.
There was no pain, no cringing release,
grim rush to blank reality,
these legs are used to feeling.
I pressed a ***** palm to the ragged edges.
I feel better.

Today I am going to counseling.
A boring subject for a poem,
but thank you for allowing me,
to spill my guts here
it's kind of empowering.

At least here, the people who comment
are focused on my writing...
Which is really just a reflection of themselves,
but hey, I'm not fighting
it,
more like
inviting,
because any chance for you to put
yourselves in my shoes is alright, and
I miss the opportunities to connect
because I am doing the same thing.
Like being too busy trying to dial out,
while the phone is trying to ring.
Like living out in the open and always
complaining I'm not free.
That's just me.
But things still remain to be seen.

...I just hope I still write beautiful poetry.
.

Suns beauty ensnares
Raging Inferno breathes life
Giant among stones