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Cecil Miller May 2
The blanket of night
Covers the land.
The silky smooth flesh
Covets the hand.
The sound of trumpets
Plays from afar
In the twinkling light
Of a falling star.

I hear a name.
It sounds like my own,
And my voice that beckons,
Though I am alone.
The coursing of blood
Inside my veins
Is my only companion,
My only companion.

Who moves within my mind?
Who is with me, not all of the time?
Who is sheltered inside of my thoughts?
Come speak to me, speak to me now.

I sit up in bed.
I reach for the lamp.
I've sweat so much.
The sheets are damp.
Do I hear laughter
Out in the hall?
Is something else coming
When the darkness falls?

The crackling thunder
Rips through the sky.
A roaring of wind,
Like my nerves, on high.
Nobody can hear,
But I this voice in my head.
It shakes to my core.
It's heavy like lead.

Who moves within my mind?
Who is with me, not all of the time?
Who is sheltered inside of my thoughts?
Come speak to me, speak to me now.


Who moves within my mind?
Who is with me, not all of the time?
Who is sheltered inside of my thoughts?
Come speak to me, speak to me now.
I was bored, so I regressed. The results were these lyrics.
Cecil Miller Aug 2019
I was between boy and man.
Had no direction, but I wanted to stand.
On solid ground, only had quicksand.

One night I pulled from the bone.
There was a voice like my own.
I didn't feel quite so alone.
I tried to flex, but I wasn't fully grown.

I was a member, but just an ember,
I was an elemental, I was fire.

I was a teen-age outlaw,
A living, diseased claw
Not yet in the prime of my life.
I was a savage' young,
a raving romantic
Surviving under cover of night.

They never knew what to do with me.
When I look back, it wasn't easy.
I tried to be how they said I should be.
There was no way that it ever could be.

One time I thought I might be alright.
Then I picked someone else's fight.
I gladly gave my time in the light.
And I went back under the cover of night.

I was a sinner, but I was a winner.
I was eternal, I was fire.

I was a teen-age outlaw,
A living, diseased claw
Not yet in the prime of my life.
I was a savage' young,
a raving romantic
Surviving under cover of night.

Behind the moonwalk,
Long before the swelling sea,
The riverbank was eroding,
Crumbling like the memory
Of my only dream.

I was a teen-age outlaw,
A living, diseased claw
Not yet in the prime of my life.
I was a savage' young,
a raving romantic
Surviving under cover of night.

I was a renagade, I slipped from the iron cage.
I was insane, crazed,
Steered by the moon's phase.
I had a long way to crawl.

I was a teen-age outlaw,
A living, diseased claw
Not yet in the prime of my life.
I was a savage' young,
a raving romantic
Surviving under cover of night.
I wrote this early this morning, August 22, 2019 in about 30 minutes.

It's a basic structure of a song. It's not especially innovative. It is autobiographical, somewhat. You have to know me to know my psychoanalizing phrazes. Read the poem; read the poet.
Cecil Miller Aug 2019
Ravaging cyan,
That crashing and ever changing
Wetness that is life,
Is the very monster filled vast cup Wherein is tossed about until, alas;
Your sepulcre is reposed to a gentle shore.
I just wrote this brief piece tonight. It is a companion to the painting in my profile, which I also created and was the first painting I sold.
Cecil Miller Aug 2019
Sometimes I want to hold.

Sometimes I want to be held.

I'd rather not ruminate upon her face, study it on the canvas in my mind, because I am reminded of the distance between us, separated by seas of immeasurable volume, not unlike my fidelity.

No placemarker could ever feel the same.

There has never been such serenity as the time she let my fingers play in her hair, and dance along her forhead, while she was resting beside me in a bed that was too large for the room.

Did she feel the quickening of my pulse? My recess was not timorous, but rather love, respect, and desire to be who she needed.

It was later that I learned
I waited long and lost my turn.

Energy never dies,
But it changes like the ocean tide.
Like I, evaporated to the sky.

Like she, wonderment in definition."
I wrote the poem this afternoon. The title is just because I cannot think of a decent one. I get busy so I don't write as much poetry as I used to.
Cecil Miller May 2019
It's like a round-about, around and 'round.
Everything that goes up must come crashing down.
It should be easy like a certain fate.
I've never even asked you out on a date, cause...

You won't want me when you're sober.
I don't want you when your getting high.
All in all I guess we're out of luck.
I guess the two of us will never...

Well okay,
I see you over there,
And I wonder what's that scent you wear.
I see,
There's a glimmer in your smile for me.
But our harlequin romance ain't ever gonna be,
Cause...

You won't want me when you're sober.
I don't want you when your getting high.
All in all I guess we're out of luck.
I guess the two of us will never...

Ah, ah, ah, ah,
La, la, la...
For better or worse,
We're differently cursed.

What they're saying is probably true.
I could never be what's good for you.
Of all the lives on Earth you come into mine,
And struck by something sort of love
I'm going blind, but...

You won't want me when you're sober.
I don't want you when your getting high.
All in all I guess we're out of luck.
I guess the two of us will never...

Never gonna be in touch with each other
In the way that a lover touches another,
Never gonna know it, we won't say it,
We won't show it, cause...

You won't want me when you're sober.
I don't want you when your getting high.
All in all I guess we're out of luck.
I guess the two of us will never...
I just wrote this in one sitting. I'll put it to chords later. A contemporary song in the making.
Cecil Miller Jan 2019
I followed the trades to the center of Mecca,
Maybe looking for my soul.

All I found in the people around,
Were pieces of what made the whole.

I searched in the sun for the purest light,
But my eyes could never see.

The hollowness inside my every thought
Was a hunger I couldn't feed.

There was a rubble in the sands of time,
It all turned upside down.

Suddenly I was under the water,
And hearing not a sound.

Everything was nothing then the moment came,
When everything was alight.

An opening of eyes, there was clarity,
I was passing through the light.

I can still remember serenity,
When I was safe inside the arms.

All I knew was comfort and love in the moment,
There were no alarms.

I didn't know that I was fragile,
Or an aging ghost of an old man yet to come.

I only knew in the moment that I never knew a moment,
Or where the next was from.

It would last forever, in this familiar place
Where I might have been before.

Because I recognise the light,
But not the purest light that was vacant at its core.
Written Jan 14th, 2019

Now this might offend some people, but this isn't my intention. How is it that someone could post one or two whiney lines about some break up and it winds up all over the front page, however, when effort is put into a piece of work, to create something of a poetic nature it goes by hardly noticed?
I mean, writing a one line diary entry to cry about getting dumped is not poetic. Put some effort into your art, a little structure or something. Some creative turn of phrase. Anything that is metophoric, or oximoronic might work, also. Otherwise, it might be an honest feeling that's going to get some sympathy likes, but there is nothing creative in simply declairing a broken heart. Even if it is very brief, without structure, saying something like "I'm not good enough," is not poetic or musical. Without more content, I wouldn't call it prose. At best it might be a brief, singular undetailed narative. Then hashtag some trendy words that usually have little to do with the entry. It's just doesn't make this site seem fit for decent writers.
So try this: poets, take your singular line and dual lined entries and see if you can construct an actual poem with some rhythm. An online thesaurus might help some of you when you want to rhyme, or when you don't because poetry doesn't have to rhyme.
Very, very seldom does one phrase make a poetic statement. How many times can people praise, "my boyfriend dumped me" one liners before they get eye-rolly and cynical? Let's ask Mr. Owl to lick the tootsie roll.
Cecil Miller Dec 2018
Ten minutes til the perculator
Brings me from grime to grind.
And in the morning stars are setting,
As soon the sun will rise...

On a world that I hate to hate.
On a world that loves to hate me.
I have to go outside and want to die.
I cannot stay in and hide.

There are monsters in the field
And they've got the taste of blood.
There is no end in sight.
I cake my face with mud.

They always know to find me,
Though I move in patterns, rare.
Deep inside, I turn inside,
I deny dispair.

I know I'll never beat them.
I avoid, but can't back down.
And so I'll take the beating,
But I'll try to rend their skin.

I know just how they see me.
The same as they did then.
Silent words that we all know
Do not go unknown for sin.

The time has metered nothing.
It hasn't changed a thing.
If authority lets loose it's leash,
The dogs would gnash again.

The eyes upon me see distainly
What they want to hurt.
Only, just, to keep alive
What every monster wants.

Ten minutes til the perculator
Has darkly roasted beans,
That was ground into powder,
Like the bullets in my lean.

The night will soon be like
A blanket ripped from me
To show me in the basking light
For all the world to see.

They'll say that I'm a monster.
I always was so strange.
I was a trouble-maker, boiler maker
And the only one to blame.

They'll say I was a bad seed.
When all of them do know
The type of horror that befell
From the monsters long ago.

In times of triumph I did learn
How best to bide the time.
They think I'm so predictable.
They're thinking colorblind.

For all the worth of quiet,
And to rest this savage pain,
And retribute the misery,
(It won't happen again)

And yet you'll cry for justice.
Say it's never served.
If you used measured all they put on me,
They'll get what they deserve.

The victim becomes monster,
The world fears the marters more
Than any of the heathan clan...
Ten minutes, nothing more.
I wanted to write something provacative and edgy. I also wanted to empathize with another point of view. I think if it polarizes, that's a fair reaction.
Cecil Miller Nov 2018
I don't play silly games.
I've got no time for that.
Courting's a childish thing.
I'm listening, if we're talking it out.

You don't need to build me up,
But you need confidence.
I care, but not for ego
All sad and mad and stout.

I don't do romance.
I don't do flattery.
I don't blow rings of smoke.
When I say, "I love you," you'll know,
Cause I don't do romance.
Don't jump through fiery rings.
I don't need testiments.
If you love me, you love me; that's it.

You'll know that I am real
When I'm with you through the years.
I'm not a deity.
You're not God's gift to all.

Let's keep it on the level.
Let's not keep any of
The lies that people tell;
When truth could have said it all.

I don't do romance.
I don't do flattery.
I don't blow rings of smoke.
When I say, "I love you," you'll know,
Cause I don't do romance.
Don't jump through fiery rings.
I don't need testiments.
If you love me, you love me; that's it.

If you want a fairytale you need to pick up a book.
Those stories are always cheesy,
And they fill the world with expectations that are never met,
Cause happy ever after ain't always easy.

I'll love with all my heart
All things you are to me.
I won't promise more than I am.
I don't need saving grace.

You won't have to keep me home.
I'll know where I belong.
You'll be my equal lover.
We'll not be saving face.

I don't do romance.
I don't do flattery.
I don't blow rings of smoke.
When I say, "I love you," you'll know,
Cause I don't do romance.
Don't jump through fiery rings.
I don't need testiments.
If you love me, you love me; that's it.
I don't know why the jeopardy question title seems right for this one, but it does. Per Usual, this is a song. It has three verses, a refrain, and a bridge. It's pretty straight up.
Cecil Miller Nov 2018
There's a feeling deep inside of me,
Something tells me I should be ashamed.
I can't shake what's gotten hold of me.
It's a thing that won't be tamed.

Oh, and I know, I know I know
Rationality has gone astray.
My greatest gift is that I love her,
Even though she's gone away.

Midnight is just another time that I consider
Just how blessed I truly am.
Not everybody gets to know
The love I feel for that gone ma'am.

Can you tell me of another love
Story quite as true and quite as blue?
I really don't think, don't think you can,
My man.
The woman I love has gone with you.

Well, you know I love that woman,
Even though, even though she ain't no good.
She's gonna put you through some rhythms.
Then, she's gonna but you through some blues.

I won't deny the pretty pain,
Because I'd take her back, I tell you true.
She's gonna put you through some rhythms.
Then, she's gonna put you through some blues.
Good ol southern rhythm and blues.
I jotted it in one sitting in about 15 minutes after a groovy ride home which closed out an amazing week-end that I don't think even a broken heart could shade.
Cecil Miller Nov 2018
I'd like to see
The tears
you're crying

When they carry
My body
Away.

I'd like to know
You should
Have loved me

When you could have
Had
Your say.

I want lots of
Arms
to comfort

And help you
Get through
The grief.

I'd like to see
The tears
You're crying

When you could
Have said
Your peace.

Tell me that you'll miss me then.
I won't hear, but you'll say it then.
Tell me that we won't ever end.
I'll never know, but you'll say it then.

I'd like to see
The tears
You're crying

When you
Are feeling
Your pain.

Make
It all
about you

When it all
Comes back
Again.

When
The choir
Is singing

It won't be
Because
I'm gone

I'd like to see
The tears
Your crying

And know
You know
You were wrong.

Tell me that you'll miss me then.
I won't hear, but you'll say it then.
Tell me that we won't ever end.
I'll never know, but you'll say it then.

Can you tell me how
You love me now?
Can you let the secret out of Pandora's box?

I want your friends
To be
around

I want
You to
have fun

But first
The truth
Will eat you

For what
You've left
undone.

Some
Might say
It's better

That you
Are spared
Some pain.

I
Had lived
Not knowing

If I
Was loving
You in vain.

Tell me that you'll miss me then.
I won't hear, but you'll say it then.
Tell me that we won't ever end.
I'll never know, but you'll say it then.
Love takes courage. A lot of people just can't seem to express how they feel until it's too late. This song is not about death. It's about never having lived. (No, it is not auto-biographical)
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