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Sam Clemens Mar 2014
You made your choice, our song is sung -
I wont speak of your sins -
  or the pull of your riptide tongue -
   not of losses and wins -

   I found religion in your eyes -
  Prayed silently for love -
Drank eagerly your liquored guise -
been drunk for long enough.
Thanks for giving me something to write about
Sam Clemens Mar 2014
Close your eyes but keep alert
all senses to her breath
that takes, and warms, what once was cold
    now wrapped in velvet dress

Resides in her such sweet release
lips soft as crimson sky
rhythm sways, red lapsing waves
   sanctuary from time
Sam Clemens Mar 2014
***
The moment of
utopia
Where ragged breath is
  broken
And for a second,
gravity consumes the both of us
A small section from a longer poem
Sam Clemens Mar 2014
The farmer stomped lifeless the ground with his well-worn sole. Wrinkles in his face had become a connection from some betrothed world, to words twisted toxic and curled.
He screamed to far gone memories, or whoever would stop and listen: What the **** was it all for? Do we not reap what we sew?
Some creature of creation found the man, standing on all fours, and it whispered it is not so
But the creature didn’t move or speak, instead it transformed, and from its mouth grew a beak, inscribed with verses of the Qur’an depicting holiness and peace- its skin grew amber scales and this thing to behold then... fell asleep.

The man screamed there is no time for this and the creature sighed back, never wake a monster from its sleep
Shackles grew like vines on the poor man’s thoughts, curiosity burned like acid his tongue and he felt weak, but as the man lost will the creature leapt to its feet

And so the creature took flight on insidious prayers, the farmer knew not what to do and just…stood there. Initiative left woefully in some back pocket of the brain the farmer was swept under wings, swept in swirling eddies born vivid in this boring man’s nightmare
Look! Roared the creature, what you look for grows rich! There is hunger in nature. Wildflowers greedy like ellipses craving ...time, greedy for attention
So give them what they want. Let night drink from your skin, let winter take solace in your memories of summer- fire cringes as it crackles too, stealing voices, leaving bones
Please there is no time for this just tell me what you know

See the amethyst tears flow with ease down aged trees? Not pressed, squeezed nor forced through some artificial means; could more natural a process for sweet natural things be?

But there is not time for this just tell me what you know

As plush songbirds echo some thunder unseen, the observer drinks sound, whets the whistles of dreams, now cage such a bird- honeyed thunder turns to screams

I said there is not time for this just tell me what you know

Unfiltered light bellows breathe in stagnant seas, Ah and sailors, eyes bathed in ***, with calmed visage simply…freeze. Below deck oil-lit lanterns engulfed in darkness just…creak.
I said there is no time for this now tell me what you know
Time is up for me but I have shown you where to go…
If only you would see- I am of you, from this process we should grow. It seems you’ll never know,  for your haste has worn me weak-

*You don’t reap what you sew, you reap what you seek
Sam Clemens Mar 2014
They say we are afraid of what we do not know.
so now I understand why we let fade the hopes of the fireflies underneath our skin that yearn to shine again -
   the cries of our goosebumps for a reason to get out of bed -
      the dying wish of the fireworks in our lips to be ignited with the heat of a perfect kiss -

Yes, we must be afraid.

Because you and I are God’s orchestra playing a symphony to which there is no end -
Because you and I are passion and eternity on a collision course -
Because you and I are the moon singing sweet songs to the waves at night to lull the ocean to sleep -
Because you and I are too **** beautiful a thought for anyone to dare dream, so it stands to reason I lay awake at night -
    imagining

Imagining that sometimes the stars in the sky play hooky for a night to reside in your eyes, and when the sun goes down it’s easy to mistake them for the ethereal moons of a distant planet -

Imagining the soft curve of your lips is the bend of a bow which draws back to       shoot forth the thirty-two brilliant white arrows that are your piercing smile -
  that your touch transforms the blank page of my body into a masterpiece with every stroke of your fingertips -
     that in your hair are secret love letters written by the sun with golden rays -

Imagining the world stands still when you cry, because heaven is listening for its missing angel, the one who improves upon the silence with her whispers and upon the stillness with the shake of her hips -
  whose words dance off her tongue and play songs on my eardrums -
    whose breath is like the warm embrace of a good friend -
       whose soul billows out with her laughter and mends the holes in my heart -         whose memories keep me company on lonely nights. . .

Imagining the gentle beat of your heart          the         to attention,
                                                      ­             shakes   earth
and           the           out of its skin, because you see it's not blood pumping
       rattles       moon
through your veins like the rest of us but shooting stars and good intentions-      
   imagining you stand tall not on legs but two pillars:
              one of virtue, one of compassion
       each built tirelessly stronger since the day you could walk the path from right to wrong-

Imagining that you live your life so loudly earthquakes cover their ears and the lightning shies away from you for fear you will steal its thunder
  yet the way you say my name lets me know what it’s like to be kissed by a sound wave.
Imagining you carry within you all the answers I’m looking for, if only I would take the time to realize it.

Imagining that my fate is written in the constellations, so when I hold you close the word ‘forever’ is blazed in the stars of the night sky,
that your love erases the line between our bodies and the moonlight letting it sink past our skin and collect in our pockets to illuminate dark nights and clouded minds;
Imagining you are less of a fairy tale and more of a reality, a girl whose name echoes through my bones to the tip of my tongue -

Imagining you are that perfect dream I never want to end -
  that dance I dance when I’m all alone -
     that voice in my head that reminds me everything will be alright

Imagining you could begin to understand the veracity of my words,
the footprints you've stamped on the inside of my memory,
     that an ocean of ink would run dry to quench the thirst of my pen tasked with the mission of scribing the sensation of my soul reaching through the bottomless cage of my body and holding hope by the hand in the comfort of my home

                           Imagining I didn’t have to imagine anymore.
Written to be performed as a spoken word piece

— The End —