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Sep 2020 · 214
Once In A Lifetime
Mikey Pooler Sep 2020
Once in a lifetime someone will come

You'll realize why past relationships never blossomed

Once in a lifetime you'll find a fresh breathe of air

Someone who will bring life to colors since faded

Bring love to that which once hated

Once in a lifetime someone will make you feel as if the world is a museum

Once in a lifetime you will be staring at its masterpiece.

And you'll stare forever.
Sep 2020 · 196
Jul 2019 · 223
A Dedicated Poem III
Mikey Pooler Jul 2019
This is a dedicated poem to he who,

Lives the life of an outcast.

Though no outcast to overcast.

To he who lived a life under the clouds,

Who reigned within the rain

Irises holding the eye of the storm.

To he who bears the soul of a hurricane.

To he who swore he bore the title of a melancholic,

Who wanted more than drowning in *****-tonic.

To he who believes he discovered answers to lifes biggest conundrums.

This is a poem dedicated to the poet who wrote it.

The one overflowing with emotion who found self love and is happy with what loves done.
Feb 2019 · 328
Three White People
Mikey Pooler Feb 2019
Three White People walk into bar.

The first is a young man in a Wu-Tang shirt who speaks in ebonics,

Except when it comes to black lives he says what happened to equality. All lives matter to say only black lives is nonsense.

The Second is a women in her 40s, she takes two steps and looks around and makes eye contact with the bartender.

The bartender shakes his head and walks away. She says he should know his place, I'm always right. I want to speak with the manager.

The Third is a older Man who has a box in his night stand, with a white hood and pictures he treasures of him with his clan.

Now theres a red hat that has taken its place, just Politics. So this racism is okay, he says to himself. As he's driving thru the projects with his doors locked, waving at all his neighbors he hates. Wearing the same fake smile, he hates their skin. They hate the place.

What has been learned can also be forgotten.

When black men bawl in cries for life with their deaths by a cops hand,

We mind our business until they kneel before the flag....

Then we blackball them.

As if there is another time that we collectively watch them.

White privilege is "that's not my problem."

Three white people walk into a bar,

If this is the set up for a joke then it's one that has gone too far.
A poem for Black History Month.  

@mikeythepoet - twitter
Oct 2017 · 430
Mikey Pooler Oct 2017
Happiness is merely the control of depression. Acknowledge  depression as a necessary existence in your life. Letting it run its course and violently destroy in silent mayhem. Letting its pain, its blank, numbness of all feeling whilst at the same time in unexplainable fashion, the most horrendous type of pain ever felt, happen. Let it feel as if, all that which once burned so beautifully within you crumbles as ash in your blood. Ash being evidence passionate fires once danced there.  

However, don't ******* dare let depression control how you bask in the bliss of its absence. Bask with dance, bask with that one song you always blast in the car with your best friend and as soon as it comes on, you just look at each other and sing loud with your head out of the car window, bask in bliss as if you were the sun that basks in clear blue skies.

Sharing a shine which somehow seems brighter, with the songs of the birds playing tunes of a deeper love, and the warmth of rays you've always liked yet took for granted become ever so lovely following a harsh, seemingly endless winter.

Let depression happen, it's never for forever. You can't control when depression will come, just as we can't control the weather. Like the clouds, depression will leave the sky in time to bask in more sunshine.

Things will get better, it will all happen naturally. Depression will come and go in an endless loop throughout life, though, like a pesky fly trapped in a room it will blindly and anxiously wisp and weave its way deep within our souls, but like flies depression will always look for a way out. Even if we open the door immediately, flies will move with anxiety, they want to leave though don't realize a wall is there until they've already hit it. They'll linger, get lost and give up for awhile. We can open the door and watch with anger until we come to mirrior the fly, become anxious, why won't this fly leave? Maybe this fly is here to stay? You wake up everyday to sunshine beeming in your face, until one day you could no longer ignore it, so you open your door to leave and enjoy it, coming home to notice the fly left with you, and didn't come back. Happiness is merely holding the door open for depression to leave.
Jul 2017 · 376
Another Dedicated Poem
Mikey Pooler Jul 2017
This is a dedicated poem to she who, is beautifully mysterious.

To she who sees how crude the world can be and only wish is to bring change to it.

To she who is a cancer trying to rid the world of that which is cancerous,

To she whose energy echoes through your skin and rumbles in your veins so thunderous.

To she whose eyes draw you in like galaxies that make you feel as if no other sight can compare to this,

To she who gives light to the darkness of the night.

To the goddess, the moon,

To she who waters life,

with such a love that even a seed neglected of light,

Buried in mud,

Shall one day bloom.

This is a dedicated poem to you,

To she Who, made me feel less blue yet feel more blue.

To she was is exactly like me, while being the most independent soul I ever knew.
Dedicated to she who hails from the same star as I, Carley.
Apr 2017 · 467
Angel Of The Night
Mikey Pooler Apr 2017
Darling you've become my angel of the night with the heavenly aurora of your soul,

Our nightly talks have quickly become the brightest part of my day.

You're a sun that's enveloped the moon in its entirety, enough light to illuminate the deepest depths of the ocean entirely.

You're the angel of the night,

It feels like all will be alright.
Mikey the Poet
Apr 2017 · 352
Advice to Someone Special
Mikey Pooler Apr 2017
Everyone needs a rabbit hole to jump down, our holes may be in different environments but they all lead to the same place, an escape.
Mikey the Poet
Apr 2017 · 309
Satanists Don't Go To Hell
Mikey Pooler Apr 2017
I’m constantly being ****** by the ******. Trapped in a pitiful existence believing things blindly since birth. Normalized and Christian born ****** people, exclaiming, proclaiming, spiteful ****** people damming heathens to hell. Hell is for the living, the dead don’t go there.
Apr 2017 · 322
You're Possible To Love
Mikey Pooler Apr 2017
I know at times it must seem like you're impossible to love.

Impossible to love even your self so it's improbable you're loved by someone else.

In these moments, in these dark times when love appears impossible remember this,

It is impossible to not find,  a love of life.

Frolic into the dead of the night, leave an imprint within the grass where you laid until you saw the reflection of your eyes in the stars.-

If you can't love yourself surely one could love that.

When the rain pours as if a flood were coming, Sprint into the ocean, splash, laugh, scream, cry, leave nothing inside.

When it's pitch dark and you've wondered a bit too far from home, allow the shine of the moon to guide you.

If you thought no one loves you, remember the moon shines just for you.
Mikey the Poet
Apr 2017 · 281
You're Possible To Love
Mikey Pooler Apr 2017
I know at times it must seem like you're impossible to love.

Impossible to love even your self so it's improbable you're loved by someone else.

In these moments, in these dark times when love appears impossible remember this,

It is impossible to not find,  a love of life.

Frolic into the dead of the night, leave an imprint within the grass where you laid until you saw the reflection of your eyes in the stars.-

If you can't love yourself surely one could love that.

When the rain pours as if a flood were coming, Sprint into the ocean, splash, laugh, scream, cry, leave nothing inside.

When it's pitch dark and you've wondered a bit too far from home, allow the shine of the moon to guide you.

If you thought no one loves you, remember the moon shines just for you.
Mikey the Poet
Mikey Pooler Mar 2017
It always ends the same another pile of ashes,

That once started as a flame.

Another tragic ending to one of my many bad romances but this is nothing new.

She says I don't see a happy ending even if you grew to a better you,

I still think I could do better boo.

So if you ever see her I advise you to go speak to her,

But call her by her real name it's Peter,

Because the day I said I think I can do better too is the day I seen her petty grew.
Mikey the Poet
Feb 2017 · 345
Right Left, Left Right
Mikey Pooler Feb 2017
That shortcut, she's a beauty
but not one worth the commitment.

What's the point of a beauty if it leads to a life you cannot live with?

But that beauty, I mean she had me all confused.

The type of beauty that just has to be too good to be true,

But what the hell was I to do?

I've grown sick and tired of the endless days of blue,

I thought perhaps the universe decided it was time for the sun to shine through.

This beauty is the kind to both paralyze and blind you.

The sayings go:

"Put your best foot forward."

Trying I am to

"Start off on the                           right foot."

I've always believed my       right to be best,

but perhaps that is why I am

always left,

walking through oceans of blue.

There's another saying a genius once wrote:

"Insanity is simply doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results."

I mean I was literally moved by that beauty,

but that wasn't the                           right foot.

So before you dare follow with your

left, just remember this.

A shortcut no matter how appealing is better off


Just remember this, sometimes you leave your best foot back,

So when you stray off your path,

You'll be one step closer back.







I've always put what I believed as my best foot forward but,

I've never

left                                                               right.

So now I will again attempt to start again, on the    

                                                             right foot.
Mikey the Poet
Feb 2017 · 400
The Unknown Placebo
Mikey Pooler Feb 2017
Every broken heart has heard the spiel,

"It'll be okay, hearts do break and there is no telling how long they will ache that varys case-to-case but have faith, time will heal and the pain will ease."

Loss of love will destroy even the most courageous of us, loss of love is like an arrow to the heel of Achilles.

Time is being passed off as medicine, believed to be the only method to amend,

hearts broken.

Time is nothing more than a unit of measurment and is far from a medicine,

with time we can account for the last time we felt the pain and when we first became numb to it.

A broken heart is the suffering from the loss of love so oblivious we must be.

With time surely one can forget about heart break, though without love to replace, there will still be a hole that will ache.
Mikey the Poet
Dec 2016 · 299
Let It Kill You
Mikey Pooler Dec 2016
Charles Bukowski once said,

"Find what you love and let it **** you"

Have you ever submitted to something and let it willfully abuse you?

Get lost in the mirror, stare deeply into the depths of those irises, are you the same you?

Do you notice a difference?

If you can't see as clear as day that you grew two,

Hundred feet spiritually and mentally

Then it's time to think critically or rather better yet think simply.

That wasn't the type of love that is true.
Mikey the Poet
Oct 2016 · 605
Don't You Fucking Dare
Mikey Pooler Oct 2016
Don’t you ******* dare.

Don't you dare believe that an ocean of magic doesn’t course the veins within your skin.

Don’t you ******* dare confuse every flaw of your soul as a ******* sin.

Just don’t you dare.

Don’t you ******* dare get so lost in the warm glowing rays of light that another souls attention brings.

Don’t you dare forget that some souls come in the shape of rain clouds, that rain medicine over your wounds that never cease to bleed.

Don’t you ******* dare for one second, believe that you are not magic.

Don’t you ******* dare, or I swear,

You’ll lead a life,

One so awfully tragic.
Mikey the Poet
Oct 2016 · 894
Faceless Beauty
Mikey Pooler Oct 2016
I often dream of a faceless queen. We own a small apartment, we laugh, we drink, and spend our time creating art within the four walls of a small room on a large bed. We’d go out with the sole destination of adventure. Make memories together and build a bond never to be severed. I often dream of a faceless queen. One day I hope to wake up from this dream to a Queen, with a smile that’s not so faceless to me.
-Mikey the Poet
Oct 2016 · 260
Calling all poets:
Mikey Pooler Oct 2016
I’m reaching out to all with a love of writing poetry to collaborate on a project I’m working on. The more the merrier! All poets will be tasked of telling “A Poetic Tale.” Poets will be given complete creative control on the style of their work so long as it fits in the broad structure of the project. If interested or know of someone who is, contact me and more details will be given! SERIOUSLY THE MORE ARTISTS WE GET THE COOLER THIS WILL BE! YOU DON’T NEED TO FOLLOW ME TO BE INVOLVED JUST MESSAGE ME AND I’LL GIVE YOU THE DETAILS.
Mikey Pooler Aug 2016
This is the story of A boy whose name is unimportant, and to tell this story we'll have to go back in time.

To Samantha, A name which left foot prints  in his mind so enormous that he oftentimes could only remember his own in portions.

See? Such a name is why this boys name is so unimportant, and as for his story? Well we'll have to go back to a time where in his mind, a sense of time is precious and rare to find. Even his sense of mind is torn to portions.

Yet another of the boys increasing misfortunes from Samantha, and her foot prints ever so enormous.

So when the boy decides to try to go back in time to recall the crime which left him oh so distorted, when a robber bearing Samantha for a name rushed into his endorphins. To a time when his cerebral cortex was a door, and a name was its door henge.

He says;

"To tell this story of mine we must go back to a time when- well... when the colors first ceased to shine"
Mikey the Poet

A Poetic Story: PART I
(A Boy Whose Name Is Unimportant)

I'll be releasing this story in parts.
Aug 2016 · 4.2k
My Only Talent
Mikey Pooler Aug 2016
My only talent is breathing

Your only talent is leaving

Talent as leaving me

You stole my only talent
now I'm talentless

Yet a talent kept
a talent with pride you possess

You got quite a talent for leaving

I lost balance when you left

I lost talent when you left

I just wish you were leaving my breathe

But I'm a talentless mess
you're leaving with my talent

I just want one last breathe.
Mikey the Poet
Jun 2016 · 373
Mikey Pooler Jun 2016
Life at times will be the time of your life and

Life at times will seem a bit grimmie

Some nights I sing to "just hold on were going home"

to the stars

With no hope
just a knife I have a hold on
"just hold on"

This could be the last breathe
from my chest
and its scars

"were going home"

I watched the voice
I heard her voice

The voice
that became
the voice

Grimmie made me want to
play with magic

I know life can get
grimmie and tragic

Some souls get took too soon

Some bones see dirt at 22

I know life can get
grimmie and tragic

When it does
you come find me

With love
I'll be on side A

So when life gets
a bit grimmie,
please just remind me

Before you exit sing for old times sake.

RIP Christina Grimmie
Jun 2016 · 675
Mikey Pooler Jun 2016
There can be a bad hour
in a good morning

There can be a bad morning
in a good day

There can be a bad day
in a good week

There can be a bad week
in a good month

There can be a bad month
in a good year

I know sometimes we all go through
bad times

In those bad times we think we live
a bad life

But as our clocks tick and they wind
you'll look back on your life

Realizing that in life there are
bad times

But count up all of the
bad times

In your lifetime you'll realize that life is
full of bad times

But all those bad times don't add up to a
bad lifetime
Jun 2016 · 573
Mikey Pooler Jun 2016
I cleansed myself of my bad habits.

I cleansed my lies with the truth.

Day by day our love fought, until year number two.

My fear of losing you was the roof,

Our lips met I wish they'd have stuck together like glue.

I was ready to take the leap to the deep oceans blue,

You opened the door just for me to walk through.

Saying the type of love I wish for isn't with you.

Desperate for company on my lonely walk home,

I lit a cigarette if only I'd known...

I thought cleansed my bad habits if only I knew,

To cleanse my bad habits I had to cleanse myself from

Mikey the Poet
May 2016 · 599
True Loves First Kiss
Mikey Pooler May 2016
King and Queen          of what do you think?

Power, riches           and bottomless chalices

of wine                                                 to drink?

Perhaps                                         all the above

but see                                                              ­      
   I think of love

I think of                                            a princess

cursed by                                                a witch

I think of                            the poisoned apple

snow white                                             had bit

I think of                                             the witch

with a hole                                        for a chest

*her hearts gone amiss

See for her this curse is a test,

True love just doesn't exist

So all it takes is a kiss

If it to be true love then the curse shall remiss.

True love shall heal all no matter how sick

most see the hand of a princess

but to reach for is taking quite a big risk

True love sees those lips and dives head first so hers can meet his

You see with true love there's no possible way to resist

No matter how deep the pit, or dark the abyss

All is worth it, he found Bliss in her lips

A king and a Queen,

Their story of true loves first kiss
May 2016 · 411
You & I
Mikey Pooler May 2016
We were going to change the world

You & I

I felt it from your soul
you began to doubt
some things

Doubt nothing
you have the gift to change
you see

Ever since
I met you I saw
change in me

Ever since
I met you I began
to sprout my wings

Ever since
I met you I felt
the world could change

You & I

She left without a trace and
24 hours later I died
like a human fly

We were going to change the world

You & I

"But don't you see
you're my world and that
I wish not to change."

*You & I
May 2016 · 407
Mothers Day
Mikey Pooler May 2016
She birthed him

She raised him

She, losing not a breathe in hesitation

She praised him

She awakes him

When he's not him

When he's in auto pilot

Flying deeper in the abyss

of his nightmares he got lost in

She's not scared of much but worries a bunch for if she lost him

So She guides him

She longs to see the smile beneath the mask her sons face hides in

She's his mother

he puts none above her

He loves her

He feels safest when he hugs her

He's  her legacy

She's his loving queen whom he loves with no end to see

Mom, I love you.
Dedicated to my loving mother Danielle. I love you mom.
May 2016 · 980
Mikey Pooler May 2016
I don't write down every poem that resides in my head.

For somethings are better left unsaid.

Some combinations of words are far too special

Some combinations I share to cure the world

Some combinations I wouldn't dare let go.
Apr 2016 · 317
The Dreamless Few
Mikey Pooler Apr 2016
Every so often as the thought of death begins to loom

I feel my being, being swiftly and utterly consumed

By the state of endless sleep that occurs within my tomb

Do dreams occur?

Or will it be that dreamless sleep that so many others often times endure?

Such a gift it is, eyes closed your mind is dancing in the dark

So many other souls seem to be at a stand still -

Frightened to fall apart

You see everyone sleeps but few of us dream

and even fewer have the heart to chase them after our eyes

open to the morning suns first gleam

So few have the heart to do these things

So for us to dream after our hearts last beat seems,

Rather obscene
Apr 2016 · 441
Mikey Pooler Apr 2016
Somewhere in between
what I want - what I need

Somewhere in between
should I stay -should I leave

Somewhere in between
to pray - dust off my knees

Some who care are in between
committing crimes - pursuing  dreams

Somewhere out there I'd like to believe
that life's somewhat fair but-

Some reach out for love and-
catch nothing but air

I guess my kindness is a kind of genius
that's -

Somewhat rare.

I lust to meet other like minded souls -
They must be out there

-Mikey Pooler the Poet
Mar 2016 · 616
December 13th
Mikey Pooler Mar 2016
Every so often I fade
deep in my thoughts and
get lost in the days

A land before
clocks would invade

The beauty of time
was then slayed

For a minute it seems
as if mankind got
lost in our ways

But I'm not afraid.

To be a leader

To be remembered
by the readers

So dearest cosmos,

"I must know when my time is."

As my generations finest

who with
a thousand words

paints an image
vivid enough
to cure blindness

brushed with
these thoughts
I let linger

To all these strangers
but see

That's the danger.

For I feel as if
they know me better
than I know myself

These voices surely can't be
right for my health

For my ears they bleed
as they scream

"Don't give them too much you."

"But what else am I to do?
To get my message through?"

"Don't let them take control."

"What if they have?
How am I to know?"

"Please if there's one thing you do.."

"Honestly what do I have to lose?"

"Don't you dare lose your soul."

Its all physics
so please put your ego

For if it were to collide

With your soul
there'd be no
standing point

for your demons to hide.

Its been one hell of a ride,

As the cosmos I must
let it be known
I've heard your

Deepest of cries.

So when you ask me
when will it
be your time?

I say to you my child
*December 13th
the day the genius did rise.
Inspired by January 28th by j. Cole

4th piece off of "The R.A.P project"
Mar 2016 · 884
Fuck, Kill, then Marry
Mikey Pooler Mar 2016
Life is but a game of

I chose to **** the world
for how
the worlds
made me feel

All that proceeds to hold me back
from being one who
what I'll ****

A smile cracks
as it trots
by in
a hearse

As I stand at the alter
to marry the stars
which helped me
through my worst

Each galaxy I've seen
in loves eyes
throughout the universe
Mar 2016 · 701
Doubt you
Mikey Pooler Mar 2016
Scared is my lone feeling,
scared of my own

Scared of my own ceiling,
scared I'll die of

Stared at my own image,
scared of my grown

Glared at my told limits,
dared to be stopped by

It's clear
who bestowed this
hex on me.

I bleed
clear, that's

I fear
for what's
inside of me.

I can
no longer hide it

So just
don't forget
about me.

even when I
doubt you.

Know I do now,
I'm no good
without you.



The temperature's

The predator's

He doesn't think that I can,
see but
I feel him watching.

As I'm shaking hands with
the dark parts of my thoughts,

They sense body heat yet
with that shake I might as well be,

Now see sometimes
to stay alive you have to
**** the warmth up in your,

They're gnawing on
the mystic,
clawing up
the magician.

Repeating simple phrases,

"One day at a time."

As someone holy insisted.

I want the markings left on my skin,

to mean something again.

Please don't leave without me.

I know how fast doubt be.

Don't forget about me,

For even if I doubt you.

I can't leave without you.

another piece off my upcoming book The R.A.P Project
Mar 2016 · 624
A Dedicated Poem
Mikey Pooler Mar 2016
This is a dedicated poem to she who, speaks words like lightning,

to sunder the fear of a mind where it crashes as if thunder.

To she who, believes a revolution is near and sees love as but rising.

To she who, bearing an open mind lets passion burn,

writing from the ashes of wonder.

"Never put yourself in a box.

For our veins are like the veins of a leaf,

the rings in our necks are that of the rings of a tree."

"Sometimes we need to separate ourselves from the world to create the art that sustains it."

You separated me from doubts when the pain hit,

I seperated myself from the world now I wish to change it.

So no matter how big both of our names get, hopeful I am we both make it.

This is a dedicated poem to she who, speaks words like lightning.

Written by, one who sees his dreams a little less frightening.
Dedicated to Ava
Feb 2016 · 726
Mikey Pooler Feb 2016
"that was one hell of a"-

"I mean you do got yourself one hell of a vibe"

When I'm with you
Under the moon
I can see so true.

And "Truthfully that's one hell of a mind."

You say I'm *"one hell of a anti"
                                        "social at times?"

"Truthfully I'm social just a little too"-
                                           "Soulful at times."

But "You like to show your soul too! And to me that's so cool!"

"How we can feed off each others energy."

"I guess that's what they're calling soul food."

"There's demons all in my head,
eating my feelings for food,
crawling in my soul for a bed,"

She goes "But all those demons aren't you! They're in for quite a surprise.
There's no space for my love.
Allow me to make room."

For sheltered demons whom we despise
"That was one hell of a hiest."

Stole these demons with the bright words she spewed.

Gave them no where to hide.

Brought them to light,

we watched them burn
as we watched the sunrise.

"That was one hell of a night."

Now my hearts **"one hell of a paradise."
Bolded is me speaking and itallic is the women.
Feb 2016 · 3.4k
A Poem for When I'm Gone
Mikey Pooler Feb 2016
Have you ever loved someone so much
                                you feel your heart more?

Not an expression, no literally they make
                                                  your heart sore.

When you know they're your heart

and you are their armor.

But what happens when karma
                  turns right around and bites you.

So the one you most adore then turns on
                                                you to spite you.

"Spoke as if my armor now it seems as if
                    you forgot what it is inside you."

Your smile was the thought, the only one
                                               I'd sleep tight too.

Many moons have since passed yet I still
      struggle to sleep a whole night through.

I keep on having this dream.

Why do I keep dreaming this dream?

Where there's a sun gleamin', birds singin'

It's spring and, to my side lays a queen and,

I smile as I go to kiss her, tell her I miss her

She goes "baby I'm so warm your eyes
                might be stars is what I'm thinkin'.

Next thing I know it's just me standing in
                                                           the mirror.

These ******* walls must be talking cause
                                         **** I can hear em.

They're saying don't you dare take for
               granted what you've lived through.

You got one more chance so **** it you
                                                                ­      fight.

For all that pain endured better not be
                                                         for nothing!

Now go out there before it's too late and
show even pain can be good for something!

I walk out to 20,000 people cheering out
                                                           their seats.

Throwing roses at my feet, it's oh so loud!

When I open my mouth a hush falls over
                                                            ­the crowd.

Like wow, this is what being an artist is all
                                                             ­       about.

"Remember when you spoke as if you were
                                                           my armor?

What beauty, for what has become of you
                                           the perfect martyr."

"Here comes a poem of my heart, before
       I depart. Let my words be your armor."

Just know that,

When I'm gone just carry on, don't mourn,
rejoice every time you read my words feel
                                                            ­  my voice.

And just know that,

I'm not underground, you'll see when the
     suns around, me looking down... Smilin'.

So just feel my voice whenever you're
feeling pain, and know that I feel the same.

                                               *And smile back
Mikey the Poet. Second entry in my R.A.P Project where I take my favorite hip hop songs and interpret them in orignal poetry.

This is when im gone by eminem
Feb 2016 · 832
A Sacrilegious Promise
Mikey Pooler Feb 2016
Gloomy on sunny days
Shadows not a house or tree
Looming through every phrase
These shadows stick very close to me

Hell as far as the eye can see
Hell as dark as an ocean's deep
Hell as my new reality
Hell as a sacrilegious promise I
Couldn't keep

"Promises man I promised"
                                      I offer my soul for you
                                                         to harvest

"Promises man I promised"
                              Allow my words to become
                                                   your harness

"Promises man I promised"
                                 Crossed my heart but lets
                                                          b­e honest

"Promises man I promised"
                               Then let you plunge to the
                                         depths of darkness

"Promises man I promised"
                    Then these shadows crept inside
                                                   my conscious

"Promises man I promised"
                  It's hard to feel love when feeling
                                                oh so heartless

"Promises man I promised"
                Your love sang I wouldn't dare ****
                                                       the harpist

"Promises man I PROMISE"
         My words will sing love back this time
                                                       *as an artist
First piece of my new project "The R.A.P Project" rhythm and poetry. Where I dig deep into my favorite hip-hop songs and write a poem. This ones inspired by Sacrilegious - Schoolboy Q

Mikey the Poet
Feb 2016 · 403
The Equation
Mikey Pooler Feb 2016
What is Talent? What is ambition? What is love?

What is a gift bestowed from the depths of the universe,

an unteachable knack naturally nurtured since birth

without ambition?

What is the point of draining all your soul
your shortage of time
all of your might
to a gift if it

doesn't make your mind a better place to live in?

What is talent in the absence of ambition but the worst.

But talent and ambition in the absence of love is but a curse.

For what is anything without happiness?

Talent + ambition + love = success
Mikey the Poet
Feb 2016 · 668
I'm Not Suppose To Be Here
Mikey Pooler Feb 2016
I'm not suppose to be here, yet I breathe on.

I cheated death many times, coincidence it must be beyond.

If I detailed my life, how would I be described?

A house isn't a home with a broken family inside.

his smile subsides his favorite mask to hide behind.

A mask isn't a face just a cover with a broken genius inside.

I go for my morning walk                              

                                        hail's pelting my skin

It's time for my morning talk                            

                                     hell's melting within

I can't                                                                      

                       I can't keep acting like I'm fine

I can't                                                                        

                    I can't save my mind this time
I'm not suppose to be here but I am. So there must be a reason, I learned that. Then ran.

Mikey Pooler the Poet
Mikey Pooler Feb 2016
"The only true wealth lies within love..."

  They say

Love is as it leaves me,


Some days I'm rich                                              

                                         sometimes I'm broke

Somedays I spend too much                              

                                          on the wrong people        

Sometimes I even spend all my                        

Mikey Pooler the Poet
Feb 2016 · 910
Acid Diaries
Mikey Pooler Feb 2016
We're gathered round under the soft glow of christmas lights.

The energy gets heavy you can feel it, for once it seems im in a place, for the first time;

I can't explain everything just feels right.
December 12th acid trip
Jan 2016 · 1.0k
Spiritual refreshment
Mikey Pooler Jan 2016
When I think of you
                                        I just smile I guess?

It happens all the time
Like when I was walking through
                                             the forest brush.

To put it best
If I fell for you
when I was all alone
                                             would you hear?

I fell for you
not by
looking in your eyes
because they
                                            always catch me.

I fell for you
when I needed to be caught
but could not
                                               find your stare.

If I fell for you all alone
in the dark
would you find
                                               your way here?

With a glass of your soul
oh that soul
that opened my mind's gate
                                     this must be heaven .

A glass of your soul
when I'm lost all alone
That's my
                                   *spiritual refreshment.
Our spirits are thirsty for love. They're dying of thirst. Baby your my glass of water for my ice cold heart.
Jan 2016 · 516
I Remember you
Mikey Pooler Jan 2016
I Remember the first time
I got butterflies merely
by a response

Your interest in me that second
that second
was the second
I was no longer lost

I felt on top of the world
in an instant
two years later
I was melting
away in it's core

But then I met her
and I was sure
by god
she's a
breathe of
fresh air

Your vibe is so bright
I'll go blind
but I don't mind
the glare
I still stare

My last love left my blood boiling
soul melting at it's core

but you brought
my drowning ego

for you I'm willing to
risk that feeling
Jan 2016 · 411
Mikey Pooler Jan 2016
You were wrong about me.
A 5 word poem I'll read to you in 5 years
Jan 2016 · 525
Mikey Pooler Jan 2016
Often I've been told I know my way around words

Funny I find that, they just seem to fly off my tongue

Escape my fingertips like, from a nest a flock of birds

I missed you like a call that never rung

In these moments of solitude far after loves gone, I find it easy to explain

Always do I find the words of feelings as they say

Yet in that moment as you turn to glace at me a final time

I can never find the words
*"Wait, but please stay"
Never have I the courage to stop you from leaving the door

Just the words you'll never read pleading to come back
Jan 2016 · 602
Untitled War
Mikey Pooler Jan 2016
The mind’s a garden
my goal with art
to water the seeds
of understanding
and watch them grow

because to
someone is
to be their hero

You’re saving them
crippled nights

You’re saving yourself
from judgment
for judgment’s evil
but it’s no
Art is the most powerful entity on earth.

Vastly greater than media. For art only creates understanding and strays away from the evil of judgment enduced by the media.

Judgment is evil that much is true. But for an artistic hero, kryptonite doesn't exist.
Jan 2016 · 681
Dear Life,
Mikey Pooler Jan 2016
Earth's approaching              population's

                                    ­                        8 billion

An era united by                                 artists

8 billion

Thoughts one has when                   broken

Becoming wise once seeing     soul's fixed

new color's shown       when we're in love

when we're inspired               it's beautiful

feelings of                                       being lost

burning those walls down

using it's fire to navigate the mind

to share art with them

they'll follow with        walls down as well

                                 that's how I define love

not just burning those walls

burying their very exsitance

building a city over the grave

to create a change for         the mind state

the greater good                 of individuality

of society                                     and culture

courageously                       *Mikey The Poet
A poem to be read three different ways can you see them all? -M.P.P
Jan 2016 · 1.3k
Mikey Pooler Jan 2016
Inhale                                       close your eyes

Open your mind                                     exhale

Now it's time                                      to Set sail

To where wild things are

Just imagine ahh!                     Real monsters

Now do you see a beautifully unique creature?

Or did you cringe with grimance by sheer glimpse of each and every feature?

Actions speak louder than words that’s true,

but that hideous monster was you.

Your actions                                      seem nice

that monster reflected in your eyes, so i thought twice.

A raw soul                                             exposed

Pain flourishes because failure to even recognize


Pure and true                             divine and all

a mortal god

Not how you fantasized       un-glamourized


Flaws and scars from wall to ******* wall

Words are full of lies

Actions                                     a mere disquise

Don’t buy their decietful bribes

If you’re going to believe in anything

Believe in the vibes seeping from deep inside

Believe in their monsters cries

I Believe In what I see

I see monster’s hiding in every skin I meet

I Believe in the monster in


Just imagine real monsters

roaming free
Jan 2016 · 1.2k
Mikey Pooler Jan 2016
It’s a shame to me,

to witness what’s become of the culture that raised me.

We’re sold on what was preached as good advice.

“Shoot for the moon because even If you miss, you’ll be amongst the stars.”

But see I feel that statement could use some clarification.

Our eyes glisten from the brightness of the so ever infinite beauty,

but what if I told you that beauty was the cause of my pain?

What if I told you that the real moon's right here on planet earth?

There’s 7 billion galaxies right in front of us, going unseen.

What If I told you the term “Shoot for the moon”,

really meant shoot for someone’s heart,

not the one that reigns above us from afar?

There’s the most beautiful galaxy,

nestled beneath the skin of someone

who’s so lost they don’t sleep.

The stars within are cloaked

by the clouds of their depression, Also insecurities.

Waiting to be the butterflies that dance to the rhythm of your heartbeat,

waiting to be your favorite twinkle in her eyes.

Waiting to show you a new color you notice when she smiles and,

that will be your new favorite color.

So If we’ve lost sight of the galaxies within our life,

all because they weren’t visable as hope in the dark night sky.

How long until we lose sight to those too?
Mikey Pooler Jan 2016
It's dark out, A cold winter night.

Awfully lonely even for me.

A howl echoes throughout the silence, my heart drops.

A howl that entered through one ear and echoed loud for my soul to hear.

Would it be sinister to say I smiled knowing I wasn't the only one here?

A smile becomes a sarcastic laugh of desperation, being ironic I joined with crying howls to the moon.

Before I could finish the wolf howls again.

I learned something that night, I solved the answer to love.

Find your moon, find someone who brings light to your darkness.

Find someone who, when you feel like a lone wolf with a numb soul; Will be your moon to howl to.

We'd be a beautiful love song.

I learned hope is when a lone wolf sings to a moon, as if it'd reach.

A Favorite melody howled the lone wolf so heavenly.

A rhythme being merely, an echo of his heartbeat.

Love is feeling that heartbeat and hearing a melody.

Then singing all the words otherwise too scared to speak.
Jan 2016 · 491
To Live, First Die
Mikey Pooler Jan 2016
“Everybody dies,
                but not everybody lives.”

But how do you tell if,
                you’re living or not?

Everyone knows how,
               being happy feels.

But how do you know,
               If that feeling’s real?

In a moment of perfection how will you react upon realizing that,
               euphoric sensation of nirvana....

Was nothing more than,
               bliss by convience?

The mind will probably go numb,
              most likely go cold inside and wonder;

              could this be how death feels?

What a terrifying feeling to have been so confident,
              the storm was over.

So confident the sun was peaking through the clouds,
              swore to have even felt it’s warmth.

Oh the eye;
               my hope died in the eye of the storm.

I died in the eye of the storm,
               but was I even alive?

Resurrection I found in her eyes,
               what a time to be alive.

What A euphoria for had I not first died,
               today I would not be so alive.

"Everybody dies but,
               not everybody lives."

Not everybody lives because,
                not everybody dies twice.
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