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Riq Schwartz Aug 2014
I'm languished here in lack of lit'rature,
for treading words - writ oceans black and pale.
I woe my want of discipline demure
to hoist my mental canvas and set sail.
To set this sextant sentence south to north,
my odyssey sees strange sands lap aground
with trepidation slipping slowly forth,
and omnipresent, inauspicious sound.
Please show me now around this simple isle.
Lead me by hand to cliffs by time distressed.
Forgive me then if I retreat a while
to cast off, searching ****** shorelines' rest.
This covered ground, font foliage, anon
will meet me once this weary world is gone.
Riq Schwartz Aug 2014
I fear I've become
formulaic and dishonest
though honesty has never
flown freely when I bleed.
I instead inscribe
insolence, decadence
dolled up in demand and
hand picked participles
to show my snappy wordsuits
down this two dimension catwalk.
I've tasted the fraudulent freeverse fantasy
and washed out what I've done
years past, former lives,
servitude to scheming rhymes
and tracking down the feet
meter by meter.
I own the jargon,
jot it down freely
with a casuality undeserved.
Read carefully, cause herein spouts my effort.

Slink back to default,
once in whiles,
show them that you
got it still.
Baring teeth or
gleaming smiles
differ at souls'

And simply so, it seems again
like pox against my aching skin
I simply substitute some time
to rhyme and let it all begin...
Sometimes you need to
Riq Schwartz Jul 2014
"You are one line."
I tell myself

"Here on this freeway
blacktop layered
in a toxic parfait
shoulders narrow like
avian supermodels
thousands of wheels
in perfect disregard
carcasses and
engine failure and
you are just
one dashed line."
Riq Schwartz Jul 2014
We were all sitting here alone
spiking our breakfast cereal
monochrome and melancholy
unique like bad grammar
we stammer and stumble
through thoughts sepia
and savor each sip
from bourbon laced Special K
our amber memories matching
the luxurious proof that we need
each other like broken toes
need designer moccasins
more or less useless in stupors
suave though still
as captains Morgan and Crunch
sail the high seas of our internal struggle
and pitch with unspoken conversation starters
and serene belief that the storm over head
is just a migraine like any other
meanwhile we sing seaworthy refrains of how
Honey Jack and Cheerios were made for each other
sending our feelings down to Davey Jones' deep
Now I lay me down to sleep.
l pray my mother not to weep.
And if I die before I wake,
t'was all one ******* huge mistake.
Riq Schwartz Jul 2014
You stole my breath
but needed only ask.
Gave love freely
and demanded the same back.
You took no ****
so never gave one.
You showed me the way
- my eyes followed you -
to feel no regret.

You were bold and brazen,
I was empathetically italicized,
leaning on you
in times of duress.
You gave and gave and gave and gave and gave
two-bit trinkets
half-assed like alimony.
I took and took and took until
I was overburdened and
rooted in place.
You walked away like an action hero
and never looked back.
You showed me the way
- my eyes followed you -
straight out the window.

Yesterday you gave
     me a call. Said
     you were fine.
I didn't ask
     if you felt my eyes
     searching you out
     in dreams,
digging deeper through memories
to us, together.
You teaching me to love
showing me the way you did.
My eyes followed you,
  followed yours
     following her,
and you showed me the way
you felt no regrets.

Perhaps sometime I can show you
how I find my way
straight out the window
and let your eyes follow me
Lots of help from Jamie L Johnson ( and my dear friend Blu. As always, thanks for reading!
Riq Schwartz Jul 2014
Being blessed with wings
does not endow you with the
strength you need to fly.
Sometimes you gotta hit the gym if you don't wanna hit the pavement.
Riq Schwartz Jul 2014
We perceive the deep
like some siren song
sinking depths below
where our skin ripples
and runs laps around
and around and around
the surface tension
and cool breaking breezes.

The sunken sand and
rusted portholes
don't draw down
the moisture in our skin.
Next to the slowly sloping
dunes of deep
we are a skin-shod Sahara.

We are pulled by and against gravity
because, in fact, the bleak black
crushing back against our ankles
begs for the darkness we hold
shackled out of sight.
The death of the sea finds
the secrets in me
and it makes them it's own
as it swallows me whole.
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