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Boi Jan 23
I think it’s an hour to sunrise
Breezy winds, weather of winter
The horizon of man made light shimmers
So little yet so many specks
Variant but in unison making a shade of violet
That just about kisses the navy sky freckled with turbulent glitter

It’s very wonderful. It’s really wonderful.
I wish I found someone as wonderful, sometimes.

I mean it’s really cold and we barely have anything on,
But I’m happy you’re watching it with me.

Maybe let’s stay a little.
It’s pretty cold ngl.
Boi Nov 2019
Did you know that The Northern Lights
Are seen well through August and September, well until April comes in?
April
Now I don’t know where they come from,
but I sure do know to where they disappear
And I might have a hint as to why you shine a little brighter as your birthday nears
Boi Nov 2019
Feelings, I think, are fluids. They sway; twist and turn with ease. They come in all tastes and colors, light, viscose and all in-betweens. They can be contained, spilt. They’re often prone to leaking, and with enough pressure, they’ll burst.

Feelings, I think, like all fluids, can suffer drought. Some fade with no remnants to be found. Some, may it be to one’s dismay or comfort, leave something of a smell or taste, maybe even a memory of color or an ever lasting stain, behind.

I wonder if indifference is the sand sea in this scenery. The ultimate demise of all that’s felt, no trace nor sign remaining. I wonder if it can overcome the fiery, glowing red of blood-thick anger, the melodies sung in pastel by infatuation, perhaps the even the droplets of pitch black fear that echo loudest.

If so then I truly wonder why indifference exists. What the loss of all feelings accomplishes.
Sep 2019 · 138
Day 0: Sunset Runaway
Boi Sep 2019
My friend's job is burdensome
as one would imagine:
having to smile at every flower to bloom;
touching each rainbow, filling em with color,

My friend's job sure takes a toll
as one would imagine:
soothing the tired sun every sunset;
singing the faded moon to sleep each sunrise.

My friend, she's a piece of work
as one would imagine:
but she's still got some left in her for me
&
just when I need some the most.

So I'll take care of the sun today for her.
I hope your today's better than yesterday.
Boi Sep 2019
The way she gets worked about the compliments
The way she shies away from kindness she's in no shortage of giving

A starlight's flicker, if I've ever seen one.
You miniature Autobot
Boi Sep 2019
Sky's crying somewhere, just not here

If the Sky's crying here tomorrow, that would be kind

and know that I missed you.
Gary B. B. Coleman
Boi Sep 2019
You ask me to quit the flattery
but you can't stop my silent admiration

You ask me to quit flattery
when your existence is flattery to the land you walk
Very important stuff here. Had to quit a reserved lab and come write this.
Boi Sep 2019
How many more days
‘til I lose time to
your fingertips

How many more days
‘til I lose comfort to
your embrace

How many more days
‘til I lose sanity to
your lips

How many more days
‘til I lose tears to
your grace

Weave my days
like you weave your words
Weave my being
so that I’m only yours
Hi. That’s all folks
Boi Sep 2019
I tossed myself into your well expecting nothing but a cold rough bottom. I free fall never crashing, accompanied with gloom, one that promised hope of a light in the end of the journey. Gloom that lit the crystal walls that I never knew surrounded me, walls too smooth to touch, too adamant to crack, and clear enough for me to see a defined reflection of myself through their viridity. For once, I stare a little too long at my reflection. For once, not wishing to change a thing. For once, I hear a smile, and it rattles my core.

If only I had known, I would’ve let go of myself for you sooner.
Hi
Boi Sep 2019
I can't tell whether they eclipse because the Sun is jealous of your radiance or if they eclipse because the Moon wants to be the only one able to glare at you.

How fair you are; still never fair to us.
Boi Aug 2019
Sometimes even Moon refuses to leave the sky,
the star-adorned sky where it's free
and chooses to imprison itself, being jaded
by everything but you.

It sticks around for your mornings some;
It said watching you every night isn't enough, not even for forever, and I couldn't help but feel jealous.
Aug 2019 · 164
Day 1
Boi Aug 2019
You're not hard to love.
You're a lot to love.

Don't forget me,
don't forget you.
Boi Aug 2019
Would you wilt, my Orchid?
Wilt by the waters of ignorance,
by the heat of disparage?

Would you wilt, my Orchid?
Wilt by your stubborn defiance,
by your planted loathing?

Wilt you may, my Orchid,
but in my hands.
Wilt in palms that scurry
to save you.

Wilt you may, my Orchid,
but leave your roots.
Wilt with trace of hope
to save me.

Would you wilt, my Orchid,
by a common rose’s grace?
Would you wilt, my Orchid,
when my heaven is your face?
https://live.staticflickr.com/3584/3427553286_41a40a9314.jp
Aug 2019 · 197
Forest Green & Every Other
Boi Aug 2019
Color because living is desolate without it.
It's as if I can hear color & that's why
my
background is something she'd said.

Color because skies & seas dull without it.
As if I can feel color & that's why
my
conscience is in willful quandary.

Indigo because Emerald is too zest
and she isn't.
My, my;
how bruises could turn out so gentle.
https://66.media.tumblr.com/489cbc978729b8eead9e947b8fc81ab1/tumblr_poqvvuvg7l1rzwhty_540.jp
Aug 2019 · 82
Come Shining
Boi Aug 2019
How I've missed you;
didn't know how I much I did
until I saw you, my friend.

You look dazzling this evening.
Quite bright.
Cover yourself in the clouds
it's cold up there.

You take care of yourself
& I'll try to do the same.
Until next time.

Old friend,
light
Boi May 2019
"... I don't want you to leave"

Normally, I wake up mid-sleep.
I didn't this time.
I did actually, but just that once,
just the once to get to her.

And we're in the backseat.
and she's most precious.
Just a taste, just a taste.

"... Do not hurt her"

I know, I know; I won't.
She will, once I wake up.
Hold my hand, just a taste.

And in a maze of buildings,
And in a maze of rooms.
All white, pink, & pastel.

She's pink & pastel. Most Precious.

Coiled like cats beneath her blankets inside a freezing room.

"Hey"
with a smile. Most precious.
"...hey."

And she was gone.

"... I don't want you to leave"
Yeah it looks as random as a polar bear race down Manhatten, but it's not.
It's simply made for me to relate to, but I thought it was artistic (I pump my ego like that sometimes) enough for others to enjoy and interpret.

As usual: thanks for reading, and God bless you, my friends.
Boi Mar 2019
I thought
I couldn’t live. Shouldn’t
To be precise

Took time,
I’m still alive, thanks

I merely accepted the fact that
One day I’ll see you again
I’ll meet your kids. Maybe you’ll even meet mine.
Maybe I’ll meet mine.

I could’ve lived with that.

I thought

Like a sick joke, like a sweet
Lullaby sung on a raging carousel
You spun back around,
And with a tip of a nail,
So did the axis of my world

I know.

I also remember. I always will.

How you tore your eyes
Those soulful eyes
Off of me
And chose to look at a star glittered sky like it was where you belonged
As I chose to keep my eyes on you
Boi Feb 2019
It’s midnight but I don’t think
He cared
Just walked around.
It’s lonely too.

It’s freezing but I don’t think
He cared
Just dragged around.
It’s lonely outside.

It looks like he’s in pain but I don’t think
He cared
Maybe his body didn’t hurt.
It’s empty outside
Bedenimde değil, ruhumda sızı
Boi Jan 2019
My friend brings misery wherever he steps.
Blessing, he doesn't step around often.

My friend overeads whoever he met.
They don't usually stick around often.

My friend overthinks whatever he says.
Never listening, and not chatty often.

My friend is a good man,
decent company,
A thoughtful being,
And miserable often.

My friend brings misery with every step.
Or misery brings him, I can't yet tell.
True story
Boi Jan 2019
"Question," I ask
"Ask"
"If unwritten, unbound,
What is love?"
Both Soul and Science reply,
neither suffice

"If not seen, heard, nor touched,
it's felt how?"
Even Hate deigns to answer,
Love beings its own price

On night looked down
the Moon unto a shore
pushed and pulled

As I get up to see
Gravity pulls me

"Could it be
as such: simply a grip,
an immortal decree?"
I ask the Moon, the Ground beneath;
each smiles,
both silently hugging the Sea
Inspired by guess what? More music baby that's right.
Jan 2019 · 529
Dalliance
Boi Jan 2019
Somewhere
Where I am me and you are you
But not really

Some place
Where tears relieve and giggles heal
A bit quicker

Somewhere
You sleep safe and I sleep sound
A little closer

Some place
For love and beloved
More sincere

Somewhere
My fingers ache slower
As I play your song
As I play mine
And wouldn’t stop anyway


I’ll wait for that shooting star
It says notes so some E, Am, Gm for you; C#m, A, E for me, cause it’s not a silly little moment.
Dec 2018 · 352
Truth or chair
Boi Dec 2018
12
Wheel chair spins
The high and ecstasy of a kid

Tap after tap

And we didn’t have to
We wanted to
And we could
So we’d spin

Tap after tap


Just one more round, I promise.
Still just as satisfying
Boi Dec 2018
Hello there, those I know and those I don't.

Newborns can't walk because they never fell.
They end up growing up, sooner or later, and walking, running, sprinting towards or away from whatever. Falling in the process, of course. In many ways, that is.

When we trip and fall we know it's gravity we're supposed to resist. Other falls in life, however, aren't as clear. And we simply don't know.

Like a baby who doesn't know their feet are meant for walking; only knowing they must move from point A to B, and finding a way.

I see you my friends; I see you falling and puzzled. Afraid sometimes.
I feel your pain, the echoes of your falls too familiar. Same as you, I also don't know.

But it's okay to fall. More, it's okay to fall apart. I've had to a couple times. I like to believe it made me better and better each time I recollected myself.

I am fine. You'll be too. I believe in you.

With Sincerity.
A little something for everyone, and I hope it reaches out.
Fall apart, that's okay.
Dec 2018 · 171
Project: Acceptance
Boi Dec 2018
The fields flourish by a cold droplet's grace,
yet fall to ruins of a few fallen the more.
And nothing can be done against determined winds.

As she was the beginning of everything he was
an end to it all. An iron fist of will he doesn't comprehend nor controls.
Dons the Cloak of Despair; wishing himself away:

His holy trinity consisted of heaven, hell and purgatory.
The inevitable battle he knew he would face in the eye of his beholder -
for he could not fathom the weight of responsibility he had upon her soul.

As nothing can be done against determined winds,
but to hide. And

Accept.
Built on wonderful words by a wonderful lady.
Took a while but we got there.

I wrote a poem with someone called Fayre, guys. How ******* cool is that?

Check this Alice out Wonderland @
https://hellopoetry.com/pales/

She's really talented and deserves more recognition.

A Thank you from us both for your reading, and don't forget to reach out.
Dec 2018 · 457
My Musical You. I think.
Boi Dec 2018
My jumping from the Gmajor 9 on Fsharp of an alternate
but a similar
baseline and notes
My Master & a Hound

My hammers on fifth to eighth to fifth to third
sliding across a string at C
later a string of G
My Shrike

My narrow slide on D and B and back a middle 8
maybe a strum on an A
flowing a Bminor
My Cherry Wine, My Tennessee Whiskey

My Cadd9 alternate of C. Two steps down
one Up
Em, D-reamy
My Walk on Water

My attempts to shine you bright by a thumb
on an E
for a Csus2 to an Aflat
My Neon

But

Were I to play you something,
Something like
Something like Olivia,
It would be about like so.

Wouldn't it, now?
That was for you


Also, special thanks to Fayre for giving me the first song.
Boi Dec 2018
Intimidating and bright
with sick humor
All about Parmesans and Mozzarella
A Pepperoni amidst meatballs
Hoping someday he'd rule a world
free of ducks
Mark C. Spicer was my colleague. A clever man who had his fun
once his work was done. Now he's off on a new journey, one where he favors his family above all else.

I will miss him. Psych, No I won't.

He's a good man. He's lit. Be like Mark.

Here's to Marky Boi.
Addio, filgio di puttana.
Nov 2018 · 3.0k
Like Sleep to the Freezing
Boi Nov 2018
You, my garden of Anemone;
of periwinkle, plum, and mauve.

A fragrance of Lilacs; for my springs and summers.
A snow's aroma of a rare, rich branch of Daphne  

Fenced by shrouds of Lavender and Sage.
Adorned with Irises and virulent Vervain.

The Verbena that consumes me
As I yield to it's amethyst.
Anemone for her complexions, Lilacs and Daphne for her grace, Lavender and Sage for her appeal, Irises for her beauty, and Vervain for her poison.

Written with a pleasure of knowing someone for 24 hours.



To Krista & Alexa: A Special Thank You
Boi Nov 2018
Angels have wings.

We do too.
We have the wings we need.
We have the wings that have us fly and soar to wherever we please.

Be it soft feather or smooth membrane or a lash across the back.
It's here to keep you warm, need be.
Lift you up, need be.

Death has wings, too.
Starting a collection of picture and music inspired poems, they'll be marked by title.

The picture for this one is a young man standing in mist with a bunch of light made arrows protruding out the back of his jacket. He's in no pain whatsoever.


I would link them photos but they're usually sent to me so I don't have an address. I'll work on that though.
Nov 2018 · 853
Cola for Soul (Of Portrait)
Boi Nov 2018
Sentient
Primate
Alive

Is that the soul or the nerves inside?

Is the brain a soul? or is it hearts
that drives?

Are the lungs the source,
each breath our revive?

Is it but piston and shaft,
within us that survive?

I'll have two liters gear oil.
Synthetic, please. Yes, Premium.
I found a picture of two human figures, a male inside a female. The sketch is open from the abdomen down to the thigh, showing what's inside:
The male crankshaft and piston machinery ***** is inside the female chamber connected to her backbone, made of metal. The chamber has an outlet opening into the stomach.
Boi Nov 2018
I lay and you atop of me
in comfort; safe.
Still I miss you every time
you die a little and breathe out.
I think that’s how far someone could get attached to another
Boi Oct 2018
Stay a sea of gray
Stay a tone of blue
Stay a shade of white
Stay a stain of black
Stay you, me
Stay and don’t lose again
Stay you for my sake
Stay alive. Exist.
In honor of the msaadi6
Oct 2018 · 393
Sandwich haiku (haiku)
Boi Oct 2018
Eating two slices
With Nutella in between
And chocolate milk
This is a haiku


I forgot to mention: that’s a haiku right there
Oct 2018 · 146
Be leve
Boi Oct 2018
What’s it called?
A wishlist? Bucket list?
Whatever
Had I one, I would wish this:

Somewhere
Where I am me, you are you
And the world is the same
But not really

Somewhere where physics is different,
Reality a little ****** up

Where food cooks faster
Then tastes better
Where cats don’t act ******
Four in the morning
Where what we liked more
Cost a little bit less

Where clouds could be slept on
Soft and cushy
Where breaths underwater
Spoke to the Fish
Where dragons exist, I don’t know

A place that’s better,
In a bad way.
Want to write pieces in other languages. If I do, people would have to bother and translate. If I include a translation, some meaning will be lost and so will the mystery vibe of it all.

“What should I do when I don’t know what should I do?”_ Barney the dinosaur’s orange short friend
Boi Oct 2018
There's regret, shame,
and a dozen dozen times of
'I wish I'd take it back'

That's of mistakes, blame,
and misjudgment decorated
with two licks of misfortune.

You, me; everyone.

But I don't want a time machine.
Not because it can't work, theoretically,
nor because it'll be a mess if it did

I don't want a time machine.
I want that **** on my back.
I want my cut hands.

I don't want a time machine.
I want my insults to stay.
I want my old friends' grudges held.

I don't want a time machine.
I want my lost to stay dead.
I want my living to stay alive.

I want me. This me. And you. And everyone.

So there's that stuff
in the first two paragraphs,

and there's peace,
and it's been staring me in the
eye for way too long to miss.
By the way, what's the opposite of Back to the Future?
Boi Oct 2018
The only thing that doesn’t change
is that everything does change
Boi Sep 2018
I don’t need her
Nor she me
I do want her
Can’t tell if she me

I don’t love her
Nor she me
I do like her
Can’t tell if she me

If I ask her,
Would she me?
If l let her,
Might she me?
I couldn’t even write it in second person.
Boi Aug 2018
She asked a mirror if she was the most beautiful. She knew, and kept asking the mirror anyway. She was taking the opinion of something of complete ingenuity, with no life in it, if she was the most beautiful. She could've, I don't know, charmed everyone to think she was, regardless of anything. I don't get it. Her beauty was fake to begin with. Did the person who wrote Snow White have a point to it or is did they just take an easy out?
I don't get it. I'm a two decades old man trying to understand Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs' villain plot.
Send help.
Aug 2018 · 234
Pour sugar on me
Boi Aug 2018
It's that Whiff of air
The smell
The moment you enter Starbucks

That bitter taste
Sometimes sweetened
Other times raw bean

That's what love smells like
That's how it tastes
Like coffee

They're both praised
They're both overrated
And I hate coffee
Aug 2018 · 279
Project: sharing is caring
Boi Aug 2018
Head first
I pushed through every wall.

it didn’t work.

tried again, and again

it didn’t work—my head burst.

with hands worn, I went back
rebuilt them all.

it didn’t work, but I built more.

it still doesn’t work and now
my hands broke.

but at least no more
sounds come through
and at least
I’m far enough.

I’m tired, but I’m better.
I shared my words with the wonderful Elle, and this is the result. If you liked this check out Elle's page @ hellopoetry.com/ellebsun where there's more of this sweet stuff.

Thank you Elle, it was a pleasure.
Boi Aug 2018
In the bottom of your ocean
It's all dark, I know
it's all cold, I know
Like you.
Wanted to drown, did you?

In the bottom of your grave
it's all silent, I know
it's all empty, I know
Like you.
Wanted to die, did you?

All these skies, above,
it's all stars, you know
it's all melodies, you know
unlike you.
Don't want that, do you?

No.


So don't be a little ***** about it.
Contemplated sharing this for a while since it could be easily misunderstood. Regardless, I bet I'm stepping on a lot of toes.
Boi Aug 2018
Slowly. Slow pace
Over a few days
It was drained and went missing
I don't know what it is

Slowly. Slow glance
Over a few cracks
It has left before it went missing
No string left, only wax

Slowly. Slow breath
Over an endless depth
It had dug as it went missing
Given up on my strength

I fall
Peace is down there somewhere, just wait I'm still looking. Or whatever is down there.
Aug 2018 · 255
Void
Boi Aug 2018
Wound around
Cobwebs, dirt, vacuousness

around, around
bound with silence

Arteries pound
never satisfied, never fulfilled

around, around
bound with silence

Born mound
dehazed of color, worn by time

around, around
bound with silence

Grown unsound
Insanity into delirium, insatiable craze

around, around
bound with silence

Death crowned
glorious champion, vigor of hand

around, around
bound with silence

Shade found
peace at heart, rebirth will stand

around, around
bound with silence

Wound around
Hollow, Void, Empty
For all to be Full
For those who give in no return;
For those who give until none is left to give.

Inspired by Hollow Knight and a Maintenance and repair of Level Instruments paper.
There is a bit more context, but it's long. I debated adding it but settled on not to, not to bore anyone. If you're interested, let me know and I'll add it or send it to you.
Jul 2018 · 238
Hello there, My dudes
Boi Jul 2018
Care to share your favorite music
with your boi here?
That would be nice, thanks
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