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Mr E Feb 2014
I feel my power waning
Like the Amazon
So lush
Yet cut down so slowly
By the cruel hands of men
Why me?….

In this whole wide sphere
Do you make a mission to commission me
for decay
Like a city I lay pristine and pure
Yet within my choked out pipes
I pump my veins in sewage glop
***** roads
They part
so many paths winding
So stars may twinkle and beams of the future
May sparkle with arrogant smiles
Be mine

Or be gone
Whichever suits you best
Don't toy with my thoughts
Nor meddle with my soul
I wish to be alone
Yet I yearn for company around me
Shaking hands
Scheming plans
Smiling with rotted teeth
And now…

Now, such a funny little word
A slimy word, a detestable word
For it describes the moment at hand
Though, with salivating lips, only desire the "then"
The kettle screams with steam built up
A child runs from home

(Enough)
A word so sweet so pure to taste
For it means to stop to cease
To end a trail of present things
A happy word
Where I throw my work down to the floor
Responsibility is away on vacation retreat
I want to be alone
But I don't
So maybe stay a while
With my indecisive tendencies...
Mr E Feb 2014
When the world crumbles beneath us.
As darkness consumes our souls.
All we can do is beg and plead.
You won't give up.
On us.
Mr E Feb 2014
Oh music box of darkest wood
So strong, so prominent is your frame
Bold with silver, chiseled beauties brass
A polish of delicate touch
Velvet organs do you hold
Of soft padded shelves and olden gold
A trophy upon a dusted shelf
Crested chest of workman's name
Patched with fervent trust
Lined in steel like curving roads
Your story holds remembered times
Saddened tunes and lifted cries
Broken hearts and twisted lies
And happiness all the same
An elegance none can recreate
Prominent upon your resting place
But beyond the outer shell but holds
The truth to your exterior frame
For when opened there plays
A soft melodic piece does sound
Floating notes from your soul
For when you hear the truth
One can't stop but listen
For all of us are like a music box
Where our melodies capture the world
Mr E Feb 2014
Oh why my friend do you give up so
When life gave such a promising hand
With your brains and smarts you could but go
To any place in all the land
Why squander gifts which you hold inside
Your mentality reflects only shame
You say you don't care, though we know you lied
Playing life like a frivolous game
I shake my head at you, my friend
My trusted captain my first mate
All I wish to lend
Is advice for when you turn your next bend
Don't waste your talents
Or shrug it off with no care
For you will die a regretting soul
Wishing, you could have done so much more.
Mr E Feb 2014
Oh how I would love to say
How overreaching your mind does think
From simple tones to colored words
Complications are born by your hand
I have no quarrel of your ways
All I say is let it fly
But as fruit does fall not far from tree
I have in fact invented thee
And so I take the blame
Mr E Jan 2014
When ships set sail, their masts held high
Daunting flags, painting the sky
With rails gold rimmed
And sails sharp trimmed
A crowd appears, waving adieu, goodbye
Thunderous roar, unequaled praise
Wind catching sheets
Anchors raised
A bell rings softly and waves do lap
Against the hull of a wooden throne

From far off shores this scene is spied
With two friends of oars we've always tried
To reach for that deck
In fervent eye
Climb on board or surely die
Tattered clothes, sailors cap
Smudge on cheek
Shirt of burlap
We push off deck
Yet crowd is gone
A journey ventured with bright sun dawned

Water ripples with our wake
Small and steady pulses we make
Though we row to catch schooner bold
As we creak of wooden old
Land gestures for us to stay
Why venture out on choppy bay?
Whispers roll and caustic laugh
With sun beat oars a line is set
No motive sweeter, nor regret
Sweat beads mix with salty froth

Cutting across the water green
Battleship chugs with billowed steam
A voice escapes you as you scream
Sputtering away, with muted cries
And oars but stop
Far from home
As head does drop
Splintered hull tears apart
We're left to cling to shattered planks
And fight to stay afloat

Alone
With far off yacht a speck
Atone for water slapping neck
We groan with defeated boat and deck
Driftwood in salty surf
Connecting with shore
We walk back to land
Imprints swallowed by golden sand
A new rowboat to be procured
Again we build to flag down our Brig
And stand upon its polished bow
We persist to where we are but now
As we strive to grasp victory bell
We strive ever onward
To sail with our destined
Caravelle
Mr E Jan 2014
It was just yesterday I had my birthday party
With puffy cake and excited smiles
As candles burnt and laughter echoed
When tiny hands and tiny faces turned
Dark rooms filled with jubilant kids
Eagerly sat to get their piece
When the presents were opened
And warming hugs as people left
But here I sit writing yet another poem
Another piece
Another part of my life inscribed in words
Why does it feel like life comes so quick
Just when you think life is dullest
Boring and tasteless
You remember that birthday
And the fictional world you thought could never be found
But here we sit
Understanding that the time has flown over our heads
Wondering where it has possibly gone.
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