The poet not in love
Is the violin never heard
The sunrise never seen
And the water never felt.
The fires never lit
The birds never in flight
The lips never touched
The meaning never found.

The poet not in love is
The journey never taken
The path never walked
The guitar with no strings
And the painter with no canvas.
The parent to no child
The treasure never discovered
The book with no beginning
The story with no reason.

The poet not in love is silent
And what a useless thing to be
As a poet.

I will find a way
to your heart
or die trying.

radical
all
the way

unstoppable
train

coming down
the
tracks

Lips a shade of softest pink,
eyes a brilliant cerulean blue.  
I could get lost in your gaze,
forever drifting in the feeling of you.

I drop a tear,and then another......and the flow begins.
I hold on to my stomach,fingers digging into my things..........I can barely see.
All the hurt eats from the inside.
And ...so I realize........ it's not even the brain,but the heart,that knows where it hurts ......the most.

And when we lifted our arms, night had already fallen
– our heavy heads spoke with the blazing stars.

The shutters
                      let
                       in
                        l
                       i
                      n
                     e
                    s
                    o
                      f
                        l
                         i
                          g
                           h
                            t
                            t
                             o
                              t
                              r
                              a
                              c
                             e
                            y
                           o
                          u
                           r
                           o
                            w
                              n
                               p
                                o
                                 e
                                  m

Why do dead people get more flowers
than alive ones?
Is regret greater than gratitude?

Why do graves bloom
with petals of sorrow,
while the warm hands,
still reaching,
are left cold and empty?

Why do people love children
but neglect old parents?
why do we cherish youth,
soft , unwrinkled
but aver our gaze
from the hands
that built our world?

loving you is a constant ache
a constant shiver
and a constant wake

loving you is as hard as crying in silence
as running forever
as running in water

Every time I see your eyes
I die a little bit inside
When it was time to say goodbye
I played in bed and began to cry.

Surely not the tunes?

My sweet boy and my
Sweet girl how I love you both
Always and all ways.

_
                   𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚜.
                         𝙱𝚒𝚐 𝙱𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎.
                             𝙸’𝚖 𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙽𝚎𝚠𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔,
                                   𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚎.

                                   𝙷𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢.
                                   𝙿𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚎.
                                 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎?
                𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙿𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚜.

𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠.
𝐵𝑖𝑔 𝐵𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟.
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑠.
𝑇𝑟𝑢𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒. 𝐿𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑤.

                                                           ­             𝐈 ꞧꬲ𝐚𝐝 ꝡꜧ𝐚𝐭 ꝡ𝐚ꞩ ꝭꭴꞧꞵꭵ𝐝𝐝ꬲꝴ.
                                                      ­                        𝐈 𝐮ꝴꞓꭴꝟꬲꞧꬲ𝐝 𝐭ꜧꬲꭵꞧ 𝐝ꬲꞓꬲꭵ𝐭.
                                                         ­                                      𝐈 𝐭ꞧꭵꬲ𝐝 𝐭ꭴ ꜧꭵ𝐝ꬲ,
                                                          𝕭­𝖚𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖈𝖆𝖓'𝖙 𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖕𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖊.

𝐈 ꞵꬲꝇꭵꬲꝟꬲ𝐝 𝐈 ꞓꭴ𝐮ꝇ𝐝 ꞵꬲ ꞩ𝐚ꝭꬲ.
ꮦꜧꬲꝩ ꞧꭵꝓꝓꬲ𝐝 𝐚ꝡ𝐚ꝩ ꝳꝩ 𝐝ꭵꞩ𝐠𝐮ꭵꞩꬲ.
𝐌ꝩ ꝡꭴꞧ𝐝ꞩ, 𝐚 ꝭ𝐚𝐭𝐚ꝇ ꝭꝇ𝐚ꝡ.
𝐌ꝩ 𝐭ꜧꭴ𝐮𝐠ꜧ𝐭ꞩ, 𝐝𝐚ꝳꝴꭵꝴ𝐠 ꝓꞧꭴꭴꝭ.

                                     𝙸 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝙼𝙴,
                                     𝚈𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚁𝙰𝚈𝙴𝙳 𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙾𝙾.
                                       𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝚂𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙿𝚃𝙴𝙳.
                                               𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 IS 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙻.

                                      𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙴, 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝚃𝙾𝙾𝙺 𝙼𝙴,
                                       𝙳𝚁𝙰𝙶𝙶𝙴𝙳 𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙸𝙻𝚄𝚅.
                                 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙳 𝙼𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙾 𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙼 𝟷𝟶𝟷.
                  𝚆𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙼𝙴𝙽 𝙶𝙾 𝙼𝙰𝙳 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝚂𝙳𝙾𝙼 𝙼𝙴𝙴𝚃𝚂 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝙾𝙼.

                                                      𝑰 𝑭𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩.
                                                       𝑰 𝑺𝙬𝒐𝙧𝒆.
                                                     𝙄 𝙍𝒆𝙨𝒊𝙨𝒕𝙚𝒅.

                                                     ᴬᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ... ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ.

                                                    2 plus 2 is 4.  

                                                            No.­

                                                    2 plus 2 is 4.

                                                         Wrong.

                                                    2 plus 2 is 4.

                                                           Lies.

                                                    2 plus 2 is 5.

War is peace.  
                            Freedom is slavery.

                                                       ­            IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH.

                                                    ᴹʸ­ ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʳᵘᵗʰ.
                                                  ᴹʸ ᶠᶦᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵏⁿᵒʷˡᵉᵈᵍᵉ.
                                                  ᴴᵉʳᵉ­, ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵐᵉᵉᵗ ᶦⁿˢᵃⁿᶦᵗʸ.
                                                   No oₙe eₛcᵃpₑs.
                                            Evᵉn aᶠtₑr bₑlᶦeᵥiⁿg tʰe lᶦeₛ.
                                             Wᵢnˢtₒn was nₑvᵉr aˡiᵥe.
                                           N̸̗̰̝͙̽͌͒̉̎̀̀̈́̓̈́ô̷̧̲̠͊͗͊̎͐͝w̷̧͚͉͎̤͍̳̙̝̃̓̄̄̈́͂̎̓ t̴̯̼̺̘̐̑̀̏͋̊̔ḧ̶̢̧̦̣̫́̌͂à̶͓̞̽̈́̎ţ̷̗͎̞̄̊̉̐ Į̶̨̩͙̬̤̹͕̽ͅ’̷̯͎͕̟̩̟͕̜̣̉̄̋͜l̵͎͗l̵̨̛̞̙̣͔̈́̚ b̸͎̻̤̤̻͉̙̬̣͇̐ȩ̴̨̹̳͔̪́̊̋̅̀͘͜͠͠ v̴̱̰̹͖̠̪̻̔́͜a̸̡͖̲̽̿͑̍̕ͅp̸̻͂̀̾͆́͋̽́́͐o̸̖͖͇̘̾̈́̌͝͝r̶̛̞͎̃̈͒i̷̡̲͙̍̀z̴͂­̯̓͊̇͝͝e̴͉̺̘͎̹̼̫̫̾̓̄̚͜d̷̛͉͈̭̖̟́̍͊͐̚͠.̴̧̨̼̫̹̋͐̊̊͜͠ͅ



            ­                                                   _

He asked me what I had been doing.
I had been writing two books of poetry. But since I could not sell them and they were not making money I said what he could understand. I said nothing.

If i falter at the alter - would it matter?
If my tears stained your perfect suit , would it matter?
If I bled on you from scars that you did not cause , would that be okay?
If my insecurities ruined your peace , would you make it better?
When my uglies show , would you stay or run?

- s h a s -

I held the silence in my chest,
But my heart still beats your name
Even as you step away,
My love for you remains.

If distance writes a quiet song,
I hope it hums of me and you.
I'm not done loving, not just yet,
I still believe in us too.

Free birds 🦅

As much as I can see can I go
as much as I dream can I be
as much as I seek can I find
as much as walk can I reach
I was living a life of a falcon
with the dreams of an ostrich ,
and had to guide my own like eagle

As much as I can see can I go
My eyes could see freedom but the wings
Couldn't fly to freedom
As much as I dream can i be
Only the dream of freedom was in my head
The lost bird that was caged for years dreaming of freedom
As much as I walk can I be
The freedom couldn't reach to but I had to walk to freedom
I was living a falcon dreams ,that I could spot all the danger nothing goes unnoticed
Yet am eagles
Yet I could run the race like a ostrich

I am a son
I am a father
I am a daughter
I am a mother

Why do I starve?
For what crime do you punish me?
Am I an animal?
Can't you afford me empathy?

I am a son
I am a father
I am a mother
I am a daughter

But most importantly I am a human.

I used to think blue eyes were pretty,
his were not.
his were not cornflower, sapphire, baby, indigo, azure,
or cloudy sky blue.
His were midnight where the light pollution from the city blocks the stars.
Iceberg, squall, hypothermia, eventual death

Her laughter and smile still taunts me
So warm and bright
I still hear her footsteps, wanting to flee
Trying to flee, into the broad of daylight.

I sometimes think i see her, still there
I can’t tell if it’s a reflection with red
Because if i glare,
I remember that i’m staring at imperfection with dread.

“It’s alright, i’ll come back soon”
She would say with a warm smile.
I don’t believe her, it was already June
Come back, it has been a while.

“You’ll see me, but i can’t promise i will be okay.”
Those were her promises that she made before going towards the light
I pray and pray
But she didn’t give a sign of life.

Pure red, like a healthy child has
It flows with a breath and nutrients
But with a flash
Her flow breaks out of its placement

When you fly high
The fall is hard

Feeling the quiet rise
Of true essence,
Silent power, steady and pure.

Splashing consciousness on my mind
It calms the soul,
And stirs the darkness within
To be seen, not feared.

I trace your name across the night,
With solar ink and lunar light,
Each syllable, a burning thread
‘Tween stars that have not shifted red
That I still count each night in bed.

I know you do the same for me
Beneath some distant canopy.
Upon your lips, my name a sigh,
A whispered vow to midnight sky
That tethers us, both you and I.

Our names are written line by line,
With diamonds set to intertwine
As constellations from above,
Devoted to the keeping of
The tacit truth of starlit love.
©️2025 David Cornetta

Follow me on Instagram for more and links to my debut collection “If Saturn Should Fall”
@sanddpoetry

Dream you never existed,
For my life that you made twisted,
You'll go to hell,
I am dumb but I can tell,
These nightmares chase my shattered soul,
No matter if I sleep with open eyes, cold,
Chases me every single second of my life,
Flashing scenes like a grave of dreams and strife,
Used to wonder why adults want to die,
But as I grew, I feel it—like a silent cry,
This sad life,
Depressing smiles, fading like withered light,
My heart can end itself anytime...
...drowning in veins of sorrow and fading rhyme.

Day in, day out,
The sun shines
The wind cries
The rain creeps
And the birds tweet

Day in,and day out,
Do my hair
Do my makeup
Do my work
And the day goes on

Night in,and night out,
The tears stroll down
The knot tightens
The  voices clown
And the morals i stand on dissipate.

Night in,and night out,
The clouds form
The smoke gather
The heart aches
And the trees shudder.

The whispers arise
Day in,and night out,
As the poor deers run,
Bunnys hop and fish swim,
The end is the crave
So why am i depraved?

Today I saw
So many people's
Faces of strange people
On the
Subway
Some people had tired faces
Some people had sad faces
And they were crying
Out the blues

With softly spoken words a warm voice was heard .  

The damage the rage will now all be released from its cage.

Go
you are free
you always thanked me for everything even on the worst of times your tears turned into mine like the cosmos we are combined.

  With the warm touch of love I felt above the grief  release from this absent vessel in me for now I am fully complete from this defeat that always pummeled me.

Looking into the eyes of life itself I see the image of torture stress and falling apart like a mess.

I simply ask don't you know that you are the best?  

With a smile life said "that's what makes us mend to this hurtful trend. A true sacrifice a true friend.