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I ride the waves of sorrow
to join eternal bliss
I await a kindly person
to plant a gentle kiss
Her eyes are falling stars;
Her hair is like Rapunzel's.
HIS eyes are fireworks
rising into the night to meet her.
He touches her slow and soft,
Static shock rubs off the two.
She kisses him so hard
His lips turn black and blue.
Tears evaporate in-between
their bodies heat.
One rises, one falls under gravity.
His heartbreaks into a light rain.
She crashlands on Earth's terrain.
Their romance is short and sweet.
Fireworks and Falling Stars meet.
Sep 5, 2019
About the first line;
Comet: late Old English, from Latin cometa, from Greek komētēs ‘long-haired (star)’, from komē ‘hair’; reinforced by Old French comete .

The first line of the last stanza should speak to itself.
 Feb 23 Simon Soane
I'll see what I can make
out of the leftovers I have.
Although, it's never too long
until the milk turns bad,

until a love turns sour
in an online second;
since, an online minute
wastes a real-life hour.

But in a snap-shot moment,
I can find life for weeks
on my stash of sugar truths,
until I forget to eat;

forget to breathe;
'til I don't even need to sleep
because the lovehearts on my photos
sing such soft melodies.

And despite the fact
that often I can't sit at ease,
somehow this perfect madness
always tastes so bittersweet.
a poem about the addictive nature of social media
sunflowers on mute
i only see you right now
i think you are cute.
it’s not great but i needed to say it one way or another.
 Jun 2018 Simon Soane
In a second
In a second
In a second
In a second
I will leave you
But never because I want to
Only because there is a world outside
A world where delusions like you
Might crash and collide
With me
Somewhat surprisingly
The real life version
Of an alias without a secret identity

Oh, but my sweet delusion
The ships get lost in your eyes
In your stormy seas
And albeit somewhat hesitantly
I won't let myself be lost
 May 2018 Simon Soane

Sadly, perfection is unattainable, my friends.
“Better” will evermore exist.
The balance between these...  and your “good enough”
Is the calculation of your risk.

(This is simply... reality.)

Your “good enough” will be subjective.
Your “good enough” will be your bar.
It’s how you will judge the efforts of others.
It will define who you know YOU are.

Please stay true to your “good enough”...
Please stay true to your ideal.
Please keep the faith even when you are tried...
Please don’t allow others that faith to steal.

Be brave;
Be bold;
and don’t fear the coward’s bite.
Don’t let the failings of others influence your sight.
Don’t take flight
When you know there may be a fight.

(I swear - You are too bright to let that spite dim your light!)

I know it can be scary..but seriously -
When you are right...let yourself be right.
I strive for excellence in what I do but I also know that there is a middle ground in the achievable especially when dates by which something must be done can’t move.  What I can’t abide though is when people try to take advantage of my empathetic nature or try to make me change the bar when it’s clear they ******* up.  Not cool - this is really about reminding myself that I shouldn’t change the rules just because someone else f’ed up and furthermore it’s pretty ****** if they try to manipulate me into lowering my standards to cover their ***.
 Apr 2018 Simon Soane
I want to watch Sci Fy movies
in the dark, and eat raspberries
off my fingertips,
and drown myself in our perfect love.

I want to watch you play video games,
till three in the morning,
so I can be behind you
cheering you on.

I want to write down every reason
why I think you're so lovely,
and hide them in our house,
so when you find them,
you think of me,
and you're happy

I want you to hold my hand
and leave lipstick on your cheek,
and laugh at that silly joke
you told (again).

I want to draw you pictures,
and drink Mountain Dew in the dark;
eat sherbet ice cream in the Winter time,
and read the ending, before,
the start.

I want to inhale fragrance of roses,
and find one way to define love.
I don't know if I'll ever know it,
but I know one thing for sure,
that if and when I do,
I might only find it, with
yad senitnelav yppah
 Feb 2018 Simon Soane
When the world comes crashing in,
Washing over you like the tide;
When you have nothing left to win,
And want to give up on your fight.

When you can't see a spark of light,
After days of pouring rain;
When you keep on saying you're alright,
While your heart is forced to bane.

When you have no one to hold onto tight,
Because life has left on you its mark;
When you can't look on the bright side,
I will sit with you in the dark.
If you ever feel lonely, remember there is someone to sit with you in the dark:)
I open a
box of insecurities and
add one
The sound of my voice.
The boys in their Vans
have them fully-formed by now,
chests heaving, with splotches of hair
and the usual marks of transition.
I don’t, I can’t have those
things. I meet the requirements:
I am a boy, I’ve tried it all.

But in my bed at night, sometimes,
the ocean hums its wavelength
of monsters screaming, howling
for a rise up, to see more light.
a cloud formation gargles and spits out thunders.
A shiver reaction. Muffled. Loud. The strike
cracks the lips of our skies,
and it confesses some secrets about
its own insecurities; that there is no more
wonder in silence, that there is constant
stimulation and reduced pondering,
that there is a need to get rid
of the bad feeling.

It says,
when the thunder strikes, listen
up and listen long and hard,
because there is plenty of
chaos from your own making, but I offer
you unannounced, unpredictable,
disjointed disruptions of comfort, and it is
I who make you scared of uncertainty. It is I
who make you jealous about my loud voice,
my formed voice, my raspy, powerful voice,
not the boys in their Vans.
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