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Richard K Mar 2016
It has been seven months since I have posted a poem,
Seven months since I have closed a tome.
Signed and sealed, a book collecting dust,
My gilded cage open, now collecting rust.

High School heat gave way to the gentle ocean's wisdom,
My life has taken such a turn, **** no word rhymes with wisdom.
Maybe I no longer have such a need for these words,
When I look back I think maybe poems are for nerds.

Nerds and artists who take themselves too seriously,
And seriously what the **** rhymes with seriously?
But too seriously is not how I have learned to look at me,
I am slowly learning to be ok with being free.

Health and life and joy and passion,
I have opened myself up in a quite painful fashion.
And I must learn to be kind to my past distractions,
I must learn to embrace  how I was divided in fractions.

Fractions that now are becoming whole,
And how beautifully the word whole rhymes with soul.
My soul which no longer desires depressions,
But a soul that is willing to ask these questions.

Love and aching still burst my chest,
The weight of my youth can drown out the rest.
But I have healed and grown in these seven months,
****, I have done it again, nothing rhymes with months.
Thanks to Writer for helping me make this poem. All things considered I am doing alright. Also Im pretty funny.
Richard K Sep 2015
My hand is still locked in yours
My lips still hold fast to what I long adored
I rise each day and feel only cold and longing
Wishing our acropolis hadn’t washed away with the rain
Hoping your hand will find its way to my chest once again

You loved the greeks and I was your god
I was cast in bronze,  you cast in marble
We both stand in the shadow of a city far and cold
But you rise two hours late and things are so different
And I miss our warm silent town and waking at the same time

And I ache to know that your form is not mine
That there wasn’t enough time in the world for us
That I cannot drink away your body with mine
And I miss knowing that the same stars shone over you and I
Whether or not we lay underneath them together
this is **** and I am alone
  Aug 2015 Richard K
Dolores L Day
Welcome back to the pit of despair
Empty our thoughts, clear the air
Because anywhere else we wouldn't dare

For no one can know of our mind's affairs
That we hate the way the wold isn't fair
Whether we hate our clothes or we hate our hair
Or maybe miss the ones who are no longer there.

I have joined the others, sat down in my chair
So that I may lay out my sorrows
With caution and care.
You know things are going downhill when you begin to write poetry again.
Richard K Aug 2015
I hate this feeling that all is ending,
This waking fear that my heart is finally breaking.
A snap and a crack as the work breaks,
A scream and a tear as my ache blazes.
          I am moving in shallow phases.
                    The moon above is casting these mazes.

I reel in fear that your touch is gone,
I ***** these words always laced with love.
A moment of fear before everything changes,
A rend in my soul as my body cries.
          A year and fifteen more filled with these lies.
                    My eyes are blown wide in the light from your skies.

You are far away, so far away,
As my eyes bleed gold I have to play every scale.
I could stay on that field of stars forever with you,
Under the smoke my voice will still shake.
          Forever and ever my soul will ache.
                    I am so afraid that even with this distance my love will not break.
**** **** **** ****
Richard K Jul 2015
And I don't want to think,
But in four weeks all this will fall away.
And I don't want to blink,
And miss all these days as they fly past my eyes.

My heart will not break,
As I leave this small and hollow place.
My entire life I have felt this ache,
I only hope it fades as I walk out my door.

I hope the fog clouds my troubled mind,
That he and I can walk the city whole.
I do not know exactly what I hope to find,
But I know I will never get it here.

In four weeks I will depart,
This waisted place that broke my soul.
I will use it all to create my art,
In an ocean city bright like gold.
I am moving in four weeks. I can forget about all of this.
Richard K Jun 2015
These memories taste bitter like ash,
They burn my throat like the smoke we breathed in on your back porch last Friday.
The trees swept out over the brilliant mountain and I realized that remembering is a stupid decision,
Memory burns my throat and it doesn’t feel good to remember.

It doesn't feel good to remember my father's disappointment,
Or my mother’s sorrow that her boy didn't grow up to be enough of a man for her liking.
It doesn’t feel good to remember crying quietly on a late Saturday morning,  
Or wanting to take my own life on a warm Sunday night.

Summer springs into my life just as a sore throat surprises you one morning
And you know you are getting sick,
The heat of the day and the loneliness of the night blur together
And I hold no joy in these months and their lazy solitude.
Yesterday I sat in the blinding sun with you by my side and together we ended an era,
But I still don’t know if I will finally be ok
And all I have is this sickening moment because I can’t remember but I am too afraid to look ahead.

Please promise me you wont forget,
But it may **** me to remember,
I hope one day I will be able to recall and feel at peace,
I don't want to forget this.
I graduated High School yesterday.
  May 2015 Richard K
Fish The Pig
the masquerade was over,

and he was beautiful.
the stars looked incredible tonight,
but then,
they're always incredible.
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