awkward and easily misunderstood,
he only eats fried food.
hates exercise with a vengeance,
"you're gonna die before me", i always tell him.

he weaves something out of nothing,
in him i found what i was lacking.
pushing through stress, pain and fear,
with pvc, glue, pen and paper.

while the world dreams he's awake,
structures, rhythms, games he creates.
even when he sleeps his eyes are half-open,
his heart in the stars and his mind full of wonder.

to the you who constantly creates,
even when darkness inhibits;
i'm proud of what you've done and made.
you with your weird blue chinese jacket,
unkempt hair and dark eye bags;
constantly tinkering,
shining from within.

Stroke after stroke.
Intentional.
Purposeful.
We create art.
We are art.
Made by a creator.
A beautiful creation.
A wonderful masterpiece.
A work of art.

Anything can
Be made or
Created for
Delight for
Everything that
Fascinates us.
Good things can
Hold us
In our minds and
Jumps and
Kicks in our hearts.
Love can
March us into
New
Opportunities and
Part us
Quickly away from
Roads that
Subtract us from
The path.
Unraveling a
Victorious time to the
Way that
Xylographs
Your life in a
Zap.

I write and construct
words
day and night.
And if I lack
the paper
I even
write
on my
skin.

everyone who reads this please write a line in the comments and continue the poem, it not necessarily needs to rhyme please!
it is a beach sea water themed

these r lines by other poets I have compiled and it's beautiful, submission r still open in the comments.... please do continue


I wander along the sea shore,.....
Unsure what it is I search for,
Walking wondering across the sand as I'm,
Does someone wait on another shore,
wind and water salty spray...
The roar of the ocean speaking in Nature’s tongue...
my feet sinking in sand marking my way,
With two feet beating the waves kiss the undertow,

Putrid  looking liquid
It has no shine or color
It does not have a definite shape
It does not have a soft smell
It is not see-though or crystal-like
A horrifying sight with a deadly taste.
INK
It is not healthy
It is not gorgeous
It is a dead material that can only turn into an unpleasant puddle.





However,
It does not matter what it is
If not what can be created with it
What people call the most powerful tool can come from a puddle of ink.
They call it words
Words create ideas
Ideas create stories
Stories create motivations
Motivations create impacts
Impacts create change
And change shapes history.

Once you use ink wisely,
You will want to have as much ink as you could possibly have.

Be your own inspiration
Be your own role model
Find your soul mate inside your heart
Find your success in your own dreams
Look deep into your own eyes and fall in love
Guide yourself, hug yourself, believe in yourself
Create your own music
Cultivate your own motivation
Hold your heart in your own hands
Be brave for yourself
Forgive yourself
Let go of an idea that you are not whole
Own your truth

thank you for your love, support, and most importantly your own self growth. the greatest part of writing is creating a community where people know they aren't alone through their hardships. It has been a great year, filled with so much growth. let's continue to write and grow together some more. much love.

- *CPM

Page One



I'm not sure what's worse--
                  Losing my mind
              or
Losing you

Either way,
I'm no longer myself.
What a
beautiful
misery to
need you
so...

Fervently.

if god doesn't let you through
his doors then maybe you'll
make your own little heaven
- find me there