I’m here again
Writing you a poem
Typing the letters which I hope
Will lead to you
At 11 pm
I sit still
And watch the night sky turn to be light
11:11 came
And I hope this poem
Will take the biggest hole in your heart

It's difficult to see anything without
Watching how specifically light dances
Which way the clouds are moving
Voices tepid, brushes on canvas

Noticing the severity in a word
Underlying meaning in unkempt rooms
Bones, steel, fragments of sentences,
The blood-red rose in bloom.

Lyrics the cells wasting in my skull
Personification the melody in my veins
Clawing at meaning in a meaningless world
Skeptically observing unadulterated pain

Ripping apart the flesh of grammar
Feasting on the perhaps and what ifs
Strolling down the graveyards of potentiality
Heart whirring through malleable to stiff

This is a poet's mind,
Scattered as the winds reverse
Beautiful and dark as the new moon
Scarred, beaten and perverse:

A blessing assuredly, albeit a curse.

Even if you've been;

Holding on for years,
Fighting the battle alone,
Staying strong with patience,
Giving your effort to the fullest.

But if none of the above make sense
To the person who's supposed to,
You'll eventually reach to your limit,
To stop giving in,
Like you used to do.

Then you'll whisper to yourself,
"This is not my loss"

I thought I would write of love, love
But I faced a wall, a block
My quill stood still in time
While the clock went on tick tock
I thought I would write of passion
That makes one spin on toes
But my quill stayed quiet, still
It wouldn't spill or flow
I thought I would write of romance
With all the right beats in the groove
But my quill stopped mid air
It didn't want to write or move
So I lay my quill aside
And gave poetry a miss
I left the paper empty, love
And sealed it with a kiss

Don’t play it again Sam

The same old story *****

Humphrey and Ingrid are
continuing their friendship in haven

The Casablanca is no more
what it used to be

The World is no more the same

So, don’t play it again Sam

Please

Peaches and cream,
That’s what you are to me
Flowers in a stream.
Red and gold sunsets
Just like in a dream.
Cotton candy days
That’s what I have with you
A honey scented haze.
Two people matched in
Ever after ways.

It sometimes seems we
Are floating on a cloud.
It makes someone like me
Want to shout out loud.
I am so lucky,
It makes me want to sing.
I am that wealthy
That I have everything.

Peaches and cream,
It’s like a fairy tale
Just the way it seems.
But I won’t wake up
As this is not a dream.
This is a moment
Like I once wished upon.
A busted wishbone
And all my sadness gone.

I remember when I saw you on top of the hill; hand in your heart, mouth curved into a crescent-shaped smile.
You looked surprisingly placid for a boy whose mind was like an exploding star.

You couldn't have been more than south of fourteen,
and yet you had the imagination like Verne in revolt;
laughs that akin to an uproar industrial machinery;
and nerves of steel.

And together, you and I were like loose cannons of catastrophic ideas and eclectic dream of travelling around the world in eighty days.

You were my best friend; my confidant,
you were the reason why life was like a waltz to me.

But better yet,
you were my safe haven.

You were my home.