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Jun 2014 · 408
nonsense
Morgan Jun 2014
some questions are the answers
and we spend our lives only
awaking to sleep;
making money that rolls off
our tongues
and goes into the pockets
of eager eyed demons.
so drag your cigarette a little deeper,
feel the burn
of swallowed words
and whiskey on ice,
that slither around
the corners of your brain,
like wildfire.
take it easy,
you are wasting your days
pressing buttons
that only activate the shadows
of technological demise.
these moments spent
in the sitting position
haults evolution,
creates children
dependent
on fast cars
and shiny lights
to spark conversation.
hidden behind the screens
of medias *******
called full of **** pie
eat a slice
and let your eyes do the talking.
what are words anyhow
but lonely paintings on the wall
May 2014 · 1.1k
heirloom tomatoes
Morgan May 2014
I have spent so much time
staring at blank walls,
whispering secrets to the cracks
while
watching the time creep by in shallow pockets.
I have wallowed in the sorrows
made up inside my aching head,
formed by fears
that bubbled inside,
volcanic eruptions of
expectations,
tribulations.
until one day,
fingertips tapped on my shoulder blades
enveloping my soul with musical notes
that danced across my ear lobes,
shaking me out of this
life of longing,
opening my eyelids
to a rainbow
that shook my core,
is shaking my core
releasing streams of romantic passion
that hid underneath
a veil of sadness
aching to dance in summer rain.
and here we are,
awake!
stealing glances at the future
once so foggy and full of mistrust
now blooming from the dew.
to be awake
and taste the stars
is pure
and it is peace
dripping through my veins
tickling all senses and desires.
the world is soley
poetry
and we must utlize every angle,
become the sun and the moon,
let our mind drip between empty lines
paint the images alive in our brains
onto the canvases of tomorrow.
anything is possible,
and
rather than waiting
for the clocks to change
i need to eat it
swallow it whole
stop dreaming about possibilities
and instead
kiss them on the head
put them to action
and
be,
be,
be
alive.
Morgan May 2014
whiskey tainted lullabies
lay eggs in quiet ear drums
that explode a thousand symphonies
and light the world on fire
there is nothng quite like passion
when it sits on your lap
and kisses you straight on
jagged lips
music is the melted rainbow
awake in our sleeping minds
we are all a vessle of sound
echoing
and
pulsating

music is the only truth
May 2014 · 463
whispering eyes
Morgan May 2014
the world keeps spinning
and we are just dancing in the wind.
free falling off of canyons,
my toes are dangling over
surrendering
to ocean waves.
sunset kisses engulf my cheekbones
and i become the universe
swallowing stars,
constellations climb up my earlobe
whispering sweet love songs
i want to hold you in my fingers
tickle your heartbeat
then stick the rhythm in my pocket
and reference back tomorrow.
tomorrow
cotton candy textured cumulus
produces rain
that only brightens this earth
tomorrow
we will glide along the melted teardrops
and float upon
the stairway carved by angels.
you are the glue
piecing together secrets
tossed in shallow graves
and wishing wells
i wish i could make love to your being
i want all of it at once
melting
drop by drop
i collect the residue
and then drink it with my medicince
what is sense but nonsense
language is only hieroglyphics
we need to talk with our eyes
and sing to each others hearts
then kiss them
and store them
in our desk drawers.
May 2014 · 718
scratch and sniff
Morgan May 2014
Time sits in my pocket,
a glistening mirror
from years past.
it is easy to forget
what day is it
(as if it really matters)
when you are running with the wind.
eyes to the clouds,
my daydreams are wild horses
running away from man.
often times I open my hands
and water falls through,
hydrating,
yet my pores are full of sand and dust.
it has become an addiction
to taste different lands
never settling in dark corners and sunny beaches
I follow the yellow lines on steaming concrete,
intuition kicks me when its time to go,
time to grow.
I am unsure how I will adapt to four familiar walls
the waves may only
pull me out to sea
until i live amongst the mermaids.
so much changes
at the snap of tired fingers,
i forget to breathe
and my stomach cramps,
yet the trees of your forest fill me again.
to live on the edge
is to swallow passing clouds
tickle the hearts of fellow birds
and sprout wings.
freedom is the only drug i desire
it dissolves on my tongue
and i become these constellations
that sit in your eyes.
freedom
May 2014 · 425
Realization
Morgan May 2014
The clouds are swollen,
suffocating the open blue.
yet
there are eyes poking through
shedding light on the lonely cobwebs
and dusty corners
that are hard to reach
in the cold.
sometimes
time is just the hour glass
spilling sand under your tongue
leaving truth that is bitter.
and the hardest part is
transition
gears become rusted without movement
the comfort of always being comfortable
can taint the mind
so
it is time to run
pour oil on the secrets
that were forgotten
this wind that blows
is a metallic symphony
and it shall blow you
where your feet are meant to be.
May 2014 · 347
dream dance
Morgan May 2014
you could swallow the moon with those cherry red lips
that draw so deeply on your cigarettes.
throw me one,
and light it with these flames of desire.
i want to clear the cobwebs,
dust away the secrets that hide under elegant rugs,
and collect them in mason jars
like fireflies,
the wind shall carry them away
and leave us alone.
at last;
free from these bustling
highways and creaky doors
where we will
finally gobble up the silence
and make music of our own.
so let us dance,
dance in the green grasses,
chain smoke these love notes
then spill onto rustled satin sheets.
yet
sometimes i wake up alone
bothered by these dreams
of sharing a pillow with your curly head
i must make you up inside of my head
i am getting lonesome on sail boats
and open roads
yet i want all of you,
in my pocket,
in my trembling body,
every piece,
you

— The End —