I am a poet
who cannot spell
I prefer to love words
with my lips, my tongue
the inflection in my voice

its not that I don't like
writing
the action of ink on paper
but sometimes I **** up
and I injure a strong
colorful
word with my pen
and the shame of this
is enough to keep me distraught
if only for a few moments

because I love words
all words
especially the vibrant ones

I love the soft curve
of their voluptuous vowels
and their sharp corners
consonant collarbones

I love the words
who's many meanings
swiss-army swap
them into sentences
where you would not
expect to find them

I love soft words
who hiss past teeth
with a susurrus
and I love long
complicated words
with edges that could
cut. you. right. open.
with vitriolic intent

I could have chosen
any one of dozens of
lovely
words to fill that space
but I chose one
that I could not spell

Maybe it wouldn't be so hard
if I didn't always write in pen
but I am a stubborn man
who finds it easier
to forgive a few misspellings
than to live with the knowledge
that all he has written
will someday smear

I believe that,
Human wisdom
Can be summed up in one phrase:
"Full moon"
You can never see the moon "in full,"
Only half of it.
It's like,
When someone says,
"You have my full trust and devotion."
But that's only true,
Until someone better than you
Comes along to,
Give their "full" trust and devotion to.
And anyway,
The moon is never "full"
Very long either.

She looks in the mirror
At the age on her face
"I wonder what he thinks
of me this way?"

She considers her weight
and the pores on her skin
She thinks out loud
"I don't deserve him."

She picks apart
the woman he loves
Separating her worth
from all that she does
              
He looks in her eyes
and caresses her face
He sees it glowing with love
and full of grace

 The lines on her face
  he views with pride
  Recounting the victories
  each time they've been tried

The weight that she carries
 is that of a mom
 Nothing's too heavy
 She just marches on

These bodies will perish
 and mirrors offer no truth
True love abides
 beyond the corridors of youth

  No, she doesn't deserve me
  Perhaps God can see
  Conceivably, one day
  I'll be as worthy as she

...
One day
When all events will be finished,
Then you will see
Over and over again
Is this why the door closed,
By that time the window next to
The road is full of trash

Little by little
I will be almost removed
From your mind
Then Red Sun will be appeared
In a new horizon,
The birds will sing the same as before
You will laugh
For some reason mystery

Flowers will be dancing
Before you
You will be singing with someone
Highborn
Moonlight will brighten
Your night
And your Sky will be filled with
Full of dreams

But then you will not feel the,
Moonlit wet night
As your first feeling flourished
Like a Red Rose,
Either an Evergreen Love Song
Or As a Romantic Poem,
Hold your hands in a way
That will be mystic wandering

Remember My Darling,
And then I will exist
Thousands of Millions of miles
Away from you,
As a Bright Star
Will be burned myself
And be Fallen as dust
On your Eyes-
...
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

Shes a glass of whiskey and coke
Shes a hit with a definite choke
Shes an untamed wildflower in May
Shes a destined part of the day
Weather you see her or not shes most certainly there
From those torn up jeans to that fiery hair
Shes most likely to turn up everywhere
With a face like hers she can blend with the crowd
But when its time for her to stand out
****
She can make a room stare.
Shes a magician with an umexplainable act
Shes the leader of a suicide pact
When she says jump most ask how high
And i guess thats what shes trying to define
With the envy of others on her side
All she tries now is to hide
But she cant quite make it
Can you see why
Shes a poet with sparkles in her eyes
So any man will meet their demise
Just to convince her shes worth their time.

Death walked up to me one night,
Slipped me a cigarette
We sat beneath the stars beneath my dorm room window,
Death said, “I haven’t touched you yet”
The next day I heard the church bells toll,
My colleague from theater, swung free of her bonds
The whole campus chorusing, their Kyrie Eleison
Who could’ve known? Who could’ve known?
I knew, Death walked in her just as it did me,
I watched Death take her aside and haunt her as she desperately tried
To find an anchor, to find solace, well hers and mine became the theater
When I saw Death with her I envied her the company,
Our morbid fixations sought through our scripts, both of us cast
The same character,
Both of us popping pills carefully hidden in little soap boxes,
Boxed up with wine and razors in care packages from the same lover

Death sat with me the other night,
Held a bandage to my wrist and lay me to bed
He lifted his hood, wiped the tears from my eyes,
Begged me to dance again, on ankles slit,
Caressing me as Elisabeth

Now I’ve been kissed,
Kyrie Eleison,
We shared the same stage, once,
Tell me what's waiting there for me
Beyond the mist of Chapel Hill

"Don't speak to her again.."
Echoed through my chest.
  It hurts like hell
It all hurts like hell
Losing her is like losing me
How could this be.
How?..
That question eats away at me.