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  May 2014 Steven Fortune
Jack
Empty

I woke up this morning!
It is cool out and lovely
But, with all this beauty
I feel nothing but empty.

I usually feel happy, excited
Can’t wait to go out and feel
But, not anymore
I feel nothing but empty.

I hurt inside, where I breathe
I feel a tightness that can’t expel
But, like always, I must go on
I feel nothing but empty.

I feel I should cry,
My eyes are on the brim
But, I don’t
I feel nothing but empty.
  May 2014 Steven Fortune
r
Measure our nights
by the sighs of the moon.
Count the stars
till we run out of room.
Lie here beside me
'neath the comforting sky.
Make me a pillow
of your warming thighs.
Bring my roar to your lips
as my salt you sip.
Twice kissed silken cries
your wakened delight.
Measure our nights
by slumbering sighs.

r ~ 5/2/14
\•/\
        |  
       / \
Let the world know that poetry
is great.
There is passion in its rough, gilded grooves
(I've seen it all)
Dance shoes under
(I've tried them on)
And overall, wicked smiles
(they have shown on my face).

I've read the Alice blue tears of a grown man
lined up like a tree so that
each line is a branch.
I've read all the things
that you think don't love each other,
but they simply do.
Poetry loves you--people and poems are
just the perfect
dance partners.
I've seen it all--

I've seen that crazy look
on a poet's face.
It is the best form of every thing
which is only tangible

through a poem.
An English assignment.
  Apr 2014 Steven Fortune
Louise
I didn't want to remember
but never tried to forget
and I almost didn't leave
yet I wouldn't go back
I wish I hadn't chosen
but wouldn't change a thing
I'm constantly humming a tune
yet without a song to sing
Feeling so claustrophobic
but afraid to venture outside
I'm sitting here hopefully
yet dwelling on goodbyes
I refuse to release more tears
but my eyes are brimming still
as I linger in warm thoughts
always confused about how I feel
  Apr 2014 Steven Fortune
Louise
I only write from the heart.
The characters in my words
   and the words in my thoughts
    are nestled there.
     This is not
       where I intend to store them
         they accumulate over time
           consistently they gather there,
  
                   words,

                 ready to form phrases
                describing events

               that touch me

             I am stirred
            so deeply at times
           that my insides 'feel' and 'pull'
          It can stop me in my tracks,

         that feeling

      almost like a physical pain

        So my thoughts are written
          from there

            that place

              not my mind

                interlaced and intermingled ..

                  with a soul ..

                    that fills me.
  Apr 2014 Steven Fortune
Jack
~

A few minutes more


“A few minutes more?”
he has asked in a whisper
Promising hope
from the depths of his heart

Pulling the thread
so it sits ever tighter
Finding the end
as a new place to start

Counting the hours,
for they add up so many
Checking his watch
as the sun seems to set

Pulling the moon
from the arms that now hold it
Praying for rain,
as that’s all he can get

Kicking a stone
near the sand quickly leaking
Rhythms his mind,
will now come soon to play

Searching for words,
while the second hand passes
What he expects
at the end of the day

Life is so short,
though he brings up the answer,
“Nothing is more
than a heart lost of love”

Calling to all,
as if anyone listens,
“A few minutes more?”
he now shouts up above
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