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 Mar 2015 ns
Traveler
She brought me such pleasure
Sole mate of my soul
Her touch I so treasure
Her pain I so loathe

True love of my journey
How long has it been
Time cannot measure
As pleasures transcends

I’ll break down the walls
To be where you roam
I can’t wait to taste
The seeds we have sown

As I wait watching
The stars for a sign
My grip it grows tighter
Across space and through time

Her voice soothingly echoes
Lucid charm of my dream
Her body lies temptingly
Wide open for me

Prohibited by conscience
Still the gods they do dare
Shrouded in mystery
Shadow lovers beware
...
Traveler Tim
re-to-02-17
 Mar 2015 ns
Mercurychyld
I see what you're doing; I know what you are.
Seen you travel some distance through
this lyrical bar.

I know your particular flavor,
as you 'give' yet leave nothing
to savor.

Did you say it all...did you feed your
callous need?
As your 'so called' critiques and comments
just left another to bleed?

How 'brave' you are behind your avatar,
but you see,
You've done little, if anything, to honestly
impress me.

You use your lack of diplomatic restraint
to simply crush spirits and leave behind
a dark, bitter taint.

Did you say all you needed, does is make
you feel better?
To ruffle thin feathers; crippling feelings
altogether?

I know what you're doing; I could BE you,
if I very well wanted to!

The bile and power of your word,
leaves poor souls understanding
that their thoughts and opinions, to you,
are absurd.

Time after time I read your insolent speeches
on many a blog,
as you spew forth your 'wisdom', dispensing
a high voltage flog.

I know what you're doing; I could BE you,
if I very well wanted to!

Unlike YOU, 'friend', I prefer to pay visits
and leave a word of kindness;
never leaving them with lyrical blindness.

Sometimes I may read, and have nothing
to say...if their words overwhelm, hit a nerve,
or inspire my mind to stray...to a place of
recognition...far, far away.

I just felt this deep need to express,
how you're grating on my nerves;
with your sour, evil comments
just disguised as 'clever words'.

Go on now, my 'friend', try to pen
words that INSPIRE...
I promise I'll be kind, even as
I unleash my fire...
unto the likes of you...
such a mean spirited shrew!

So next time, give great thought
to your comment before you click away,
'cause I know many a great poet here,
that by YOUR cold, pathetic words...
will NOT be chased away!




-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
Dedicated to Elsa Angelica, and all of those who've ever had to deal with harsh words in regard to something you've written. Never stop writing friends.
 Mar 2015 ns
Pax
Growth ~
 Mar 2015 ns
Pax

Experiences make us wiser,
Learning makes us smarter
All must coincides together
with an open mind to ponder
and a good heart to wonder
--  balancing from right and wrong
  We gain rooms for change
                and more storage
                            to process
      the increasing progress.

With all that often times we waste something good to needful things.

this was part of a one long poem, like the drop of life, decided to share it one by one, starting with growth.
 Mar 2015 ns
Jacob
Caroline
 Mar 2015 ns
Jacob
She stands firm
Often she dances
To the wind
She yearns for
An audience


Her stories
Often ignored by
Passers-by en route
To their final destinations


Occasional visiting bees
She welcomes
Not stray hands
She knows
She'll be lay to rest
Helpless
In a vase
 Mar 2015 ns
Everlasting
Untitled
 Mar 2015 ns
Everlasting
Why must I write using imagery?

Should I paint words as if those words
were canvases?
Should I paint words as if by coloring them,
I could draw the eye of the reader into my poems?
Should I just paint and paint words
for the sake of painting an image
into the reader's mind?
Should I?

Ah!

Should I just paint words for them to see
what reality does not allow them to see?
Should I paint words for them to feel,
what reality does not allow them to feel?

Or Should I just paint words and become an artist, and don't care about anything else, not about me holding a brush, not about me, having colors,
Just about me, painting what I see,
What I feel, while I paint words with whatever I have in my hands.

Should I?
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