died of an enlarged heart rode in on the wings of a Seraphim to tell you it was actually broken that it just grew a few too many sizes that day and honey, it burst into a quasar a bouquet of sound like a tin balloon that explodes inside a tunnel full of quiet winds. but now here comes the rain a holy baptism half past a broken heart. we’ll sew it up together with a quicksilver spindle of celestial threads. golden yarn spun from the Oversoul inside my head the seeds of my holy heart-mind sewn beneath my lotus feet. ceramic shards of a broken heart woven whole again showing only golden cracks and seams below the clouds the sun is brighter than it seems. inside this fire we laugh so loud the tunnel full of silent raging winds are giving birth to embers and steaming into clouds.
hard hearts will expand with a smile as we float along the wake of the Prince of Wands - bathing in the fire.
Happy carefree Poem of being a yellow balloon of happy thoughts and I hope it helps others struggling with anything negative in life because we all have our bad days and depressed sad tired days but remember you matter and your loved and your worthy to be loved but love yourself first as I love myself and God and family and it took a long time to love me.
You inflate my heart like a balloon Filled with all your fake love The pin you hold is always so dangerously close Waiting for my balloon to pop anytime soon Why do I still trust people with my heart? When it ends up ripped apart To the next person, I'm on restart All remaining is the rubber parts Popping all my love-filled hearts ~20/5/21
They float and fly, Ascending to a place Much higher in the sky Though little see how they chase You into yet another cry. But you accept it, just in case You fail to come by And deliver your final good bye.
Purple balloons soar As he enters an endless sleep To which escape is no more.
Purple balloons Much higher in the sky Coldly whisper; 'Good bye'.
Out of a **** he made Great Art It was no ordinary **** no! It was straight from the heart, that **** It had lain too long in the dark Now was it's time to start To make its bid for freedom... and for stardom.
It flew like a dart that **** from the heart Like an arrow strung from Cupids bow Little did it know how luminous it'd glow Becoming one of the Greats in the Farting Canon.
It was probably the greatest **** poem ever written In my own humble opinion It was very daring and it smelt of onion It was certainly the fairest fartiest poem I ever seen If it was one of the three Musketeers It would have to have been D'artagoine.
It inflated like a balloon, blew up like a great glass bubble Then it popped and headed off toward England Flying further afield than any **** had ever flown It touched people's hearts, bewitched every nation Resounded around the world Yea! was heard in every Kingdom.
It flew long, it rounded the Horn Like a Lark, that ****, it soared and sung It was no boring old **** It was far fartier and fruiter than that It was a King of Farts Way above the fartiest of farters and all the farting Arthurs It was the real King Arthur The King Arthur of all farts and Farters.
A real Belter was that **** that came from the heart That had all the Angels singing in their cloisters, A real work of Art just like Mozart Or remember... remember your Shakespeare "Hark! A ****, a ****! Whereforth art ? Thou ****" It played its part, that ****, yea! it wielded its Excalibur.
O! there's nothing I'd rather do than lie here blowing sweet bubbles next to you You! on your little flutey flute flute and Me! on my big Bass Trombone.
This is the sequel to my other **** poem "Music a la Toilette". A bit of silliness/ fun.
A shiny white balloon gently sways with the wind Attached at the end is a little girl, she's three. She swirls and dances, all grace no faults. She stumbles and giggles, not caring at all. Her locks of hair cover her eyes, from the danger around. The little girl is old now.. She does not giggle or sway. She does not dance or play. She cares, she cares about what everyone thinks. The little girl we once knew, is no longer free. For she has let go of her shiny white balloon. It floated away, float float float.