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A piece of you
Reflecting back
The bitter words in your mouth
Too raw to speak
A poet is
Someone in pain
And someone in love
Someone who looks at the world
Through a kaleidoscope
Who takes a magnifying glass to each
And every
Word you say
And lets them imprint on their heart
A poet is
A star gazer
A dreamer
A chaser of
The improbable
But hopes anyway
A poet is
Tissue paper skin
A heart of glass
And a soul of titanium

A poet is
A sharp tongue
And a gentle kiss
She is a sob
He is a sigh
A poet is
The sun at midnight
Bright and
Burning
Hot
Alive
But cloaked in a darkness
They cannot shake
The brightest day
And the darkest night
A poet is
The human experience
A paradox
An oxymoron
So complicatedly
Simple

A poet is
A lover
Who refuses
To stop wearing their heart on their sleeve
No matter how much it bleeds
But rolls them up
So you can’t see
The blood stains


A poet
Is Poetry
 Oct 2014 Maddie Renee
bones
She's an alphabet artist
she paints in words,

from a palette of adjectives,
nouns and verbs,

the landscape she finds
in the folds of her mind

she exhibits in volumes of verse.
Cast [kast, kahst]
1. v. To throw or hurl something; fling: We cast our desires or ambitions into a river called life. 2. v. To shed or discard: We cast away our struggles and fears which eventually subside into the shallows of our shores. 3. n. A slight trace of color; a tinge: Although the cast of the sunrise upon the river’s edge leads us to a new-fangled dawn, it takes us away from our fate set by the current. 4. n. The form in which something is made or constructed; the arrangement: The cast of the river’s scenery is stowed up as memories so we can reminisce on the features later in our lives. 5. v. To twist or turn; warp: The river casts into various routes that carry us to our travel’s end.
I like my women like I like my flowers,
down to Earth, and she’s rooted to the concept.
From her orchard, orchids cry out that she’s
a beauty. A beauty as bold as baby’s breath
but she’s not soft-spoken. It’s written in her
blue-eyed, irises that she’s a stargazer
with a heart made of marigolds, laced together
by Queen Anne. She sprouted out of that cracked
cement with tulips curled to the cosmos, greeting
morning glories with a stellar smile, that I fell for
like a shooting star. She’s a bloomed-beauty that’s
bound to this Earth, and well, I’d pick her up any day.

© Matthew Harlovic
Everything in bold is a type of flower.
Good Morning, Good Morning, Good Day Sunshine. The Night Before was A Hard Day’s Night. I, Me, Mine, I mean, I Feel Fine, Better, than I ever felt In My Life. I spent midnight in the Strawberry Fields down by Moonlight Bay. I was Searchin’ for Maggie Mae but met up with Penny Lane so we ran around in Circles till it started to Rain. Yesterday was Something , but I can change I promise you that I Will. From Me To You , I can be more than The Fool On The Hill. Yes It Is, a little silly, but I Just Don't Understand. Why you constantly lose faith in this Nowhere Man. But We Can Work It Out, Because, well I Need You, but all you got to do is believe Like Dreamers Do.

© Matthew Harlovic
I tried doing a different style of poetry. This is where I'd take a band or singer and use their song titles to create a story. Therefore everything in bold is a song title by The Beatles. Enjoy folks.
For every door that closes another window opens
But my momma warned me of strangers
so I latched the window shut, hoping
that opportunities wouldn’t put me in danger.

© Matthew Harlovic
Forgive me Lord for I have sinned,
I have taken your name in vain
and then abused that vanity to
raise my own name.
In spite of the green-thumbed
that wander your garden,
I tried to gather as much fruit
as my arms could carry before
Jacob’s ladder gave out to my weight.
But knowledge is a burden that even
Atlas can’t get a grasp of.
Forgive me Lord for I have sinned,
For I’ve fallen to the seven wonders of
this world that you didn’t warn this sheep of.

© Matthew Harlovic
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