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I am a flower
Here to bloom for only
A short while
And you, to bloom
By my side
But how naive of me!
I'd forgotten
To remember
How flowers will always
Wither away
Does death tell
you anything more?
will the dimness of light
bring new understanding?
does it feel
like a dream?
are you aware?
one has never known
but I guess
it won't hurt
to find out
He walks in stolid darknesses
At days zenith, hears whispers
In the dew dusted fens, lights
Leaves into sun candle flames,
Drew a lake sword by maidens
Hand, alchemic shaper of water,
Air, old fires and earth, bending
Cold elements of moly and lode
Rushing forth, in extra emotions.
She wants to know me,
Whisper secrets down my throat.
But like so many before..
I don’t see her name, but,
I know everything about her.
I discern her independent thoughts
Her politely rebellious acts of defiance,
How she shops at thrift stores
Wearing old tank-tops to complement her Chanel,
Paints her nails black and her index red.
I know she says this,
but really wants that.
I know what makes her toes curl
I know what she likes
And how she likes it.
I read her like an open book,
Bold font size 45.
She wants to know me,
To explore ourselves together.
But I recognize her from afar,
So how could she ever know me…
i wish i could look past certain things and just be happy. but my artistic eye, the same eye that tells me whether something is tasteful or ney just won't allow me. Won't allow me to appreciate the beauty in each person. Won't allow me to settle.
 Jun 2013 Sal Gelles
Hilda
My childhood's home I see again,
And sadden with the view;
And still, as memory crowds my brain,
There's pleasure in it, too.

O memory! Thou midway world
'Twixt earth and paradise,
Where things decayed , and loved ones lost,
In dreamy shadows rise.

And freed from all that's earthly vile,
Seems hallowed, pure, and bright,
Like scenes in some enchanted isle,
All bathed in liquid light.
Dark shadows move, fro and twain,
From twin heights that tower, merging into one.
Center your delight 'neath the far flung moon
Curved in crescent hook that lights the vale.
Breathe smoky spheres that quiver like anxious tendrils,
Fruit of the vine ripened to a sweetness sickn'd,
the weight of breath falls slow.
And trepidatious,
The twigs that shake and shamble, twitch and snap,
'Neath the dewy growth, impatient and unworthy,
The flash of lust and danger, now, a fear, instills.
Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again
Follow me on Twitter @athomashawkins
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I am
the diamonds
that you see in your head
do you know those diamonds sing to me
and that i hear, within my head,     please feel free to sing alone
not that you will
for you are strong
the one and only you
but feel'in blue
face long    and I ask!

What princess
the princess of mine
and you give me that look
that means back off

but i don't
tell me
princess

WHAT?

at that your skin turned grey
then after time you did anser  
leave me alone for I feel cold.
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