My mind, Far from
A clear crystal lake
More like
A murky stream
Or muddled drink

Thoughts come,
Rippling away
Or perhaps
They were the pebbles
Causing the wake

The true trouble,
Discernment

The blazing fire so bright
Always do I admire at sight
But when her eyes return a look
I suddenly blush, my head I just shook
I hope my stares she doesn’t notice
It’s always not too long but it feels me with bliss
Sadly, to her I’m just a stranger
Just a boy with a deep crush on her
But maybe it won’t always be like this
Maybe someday I she would also miss

When the moon howls
Thats when she talks
Loud, so loud
I can not think

All I do is
Listen
Listen
and Listen

Nothing more but
Follow her lead

Out of bed
On my feet
"Get the rope
and follow me"

I grab the
Knife
She gets
the blade

I slowly
Drift to my
Last breath

My final smile
Happened

Underneath the
Blood moon

Why ask why I like your poem? Be courageous in your ideas and ideals. Be confident enough to know that your work is true to your vision. Artists of all kinds, but especially poets, are the philosophers and prophets of their generation. A revelation does not passive-aggressively seek to be worthy. It just is. Revelators, in the converse, often are compelled to seek praise with false humility via the age old pretentious depreciation of the value of their work in order to reap praise, which is the expected polite response. It is a waltz I choose to sit out. I feel it is less than honest and a disrespect to the poet and the poem to revel in such frivolity. Write for the sake of revelation, not for the accolades of topical praise. It is no business of the poet why a poem strykes chords with a reader. Simply allow it to happen. Talent and truth are not always equatable, nor are beauty and integrity always comparable. In the heart, a poet knows he is a poet. By the very construct of your words, Poet, may you be the caster of many spells. Thank-you for sharing a bit of yourself with me. I bid thee Love and Light.

You stopped by to see me on your way out of town.
You said you were headed west because the locals were bringing you down.
As you sat across from me,
I looked into your eyes.
Then it hit, how much I'd miss my friend, as we said our good-byes.

I stood on the darkened sidewalk beneath a lamp that wasn't lit,
As you drove your car away from me,
My heart broke a little bit.
I would never tell a young man never to explore,
Because nobody could have held me back in my days of yesteryore.

A piece of me feels envy.
I'm no longer a young man.
If I were, then I would be with you,
Hand in loving hand.

Maybe once in a while think of me, When. like a stallion, you roam free.
When you kiss the pretty ponies,
Give a kiss for me.
As you blaze your fiery trail until you reach the ocean shore,
Remember that my heart is with you
And shall be evermore.