I was fine enough on my own and then I met you who animated my heart of stone then turned it blue wondering what I'll do when this thing is through. I'd swim through tides of the apocalypse just to reach your apocryphal hips but my cacophonous wit tells me I should probably quit because you're better than I so I fear you'll sever our tie then I'll pull a lever and die.
I try not to think I try not to sink I try not to blink after the Kool-Aid I drink casts an enchantment of life enhancement I couldn't have planned it so I just say **** it flying to another planet with an atmosphere uncertain I can't see past this dumb curtain made by time my maybe mind makes me whine that it's not fair that your soft hair has me locked there waiting for the final judgment wishing for your sublet guessing I'll be upset at another lonely sunset.
Please don't mind me I've just been alone a long time seeing the signing that for a home there's a long line and I don't have a ticket to get the biscuit I jest I missed it because I blessed a misfit which stole my youth and made me uncouth I couldn't regroup and then I saw you. I feel loneliness so strongly I search for a sense of belonging but might be doing so wrongly when I think that anyone on me will provide an awning for the fear spawning over existential odd me who thinks servile fawning will leave people wanting.
I wish I could pull a ripcord to ignore the dim floor implored by inner discord but I just described you a conundrum it's true you create room for thunder and gloom then sunder it too.
the seas of pain hurt before dawn, before returning itself to the ocean, escaping from the light it turns to blue anemones, to be lost in a wave or waves of the memories, discord turns in stillness, the thought of ourselves hurt long before and still after the first death, men women dressed in the color of the soul breathe under cover(s), the children of our imagination laugh like a bird of freedom dipping its wings into the sun some of the winds of words sleep after the hurricane
In a very distant land I believe there is a King; he is old decrepit and withered; no Servants and no Knaves beside him; no Queen to be the solace of his miserable Being; he perched upon his throne and Do nothing but beholds his sank in Calamity Kingdom; the old tokens of His Might and Sway may still be visible; Bearing no power though; his mantle is Crimson but dusty and shabby; Somewhere even stiffened and resembles A crust; his skin is placid and paled and Peeling with flakes which fall and mound near au pied of his throne; no sounds Resound but his moans and groans From pain or from despair or some other Misery is not known; but the thing that is True is the fact that he suffers and craves For the former boons; he wishes his plight Was restored to that of an ephebe; but Alas; leave all thy hopes thou King since Long Ago of Nothing; forsaken is thy Kingdom, come no prosper to thee nor Posterity will thrive nor any herb will reside These barren lands of yours; for we reap What we sow and when thou sowest Tempest Thou shalt reap the sprouts of Despondency
This isn't a poem, it's a thank you. Thank you all so much for, bein there for me. And inspiring me to know what I have. And thank you all for lifting me up with some of your comments. If anyone would love to talk to me, or anything don't be afraid to text me on discord. https://discord.gg/SBFp4m Thank you for excepting me when others, wouldn't. I a glad to be in the Hello Poetry family with such talented and amazing people
They come in unannounced, united, and uninvited, demanding my attention my hands and body are in pose with contention at the fault of being self aware I let these thoughts linger, letting them leave their mark streaks, smudges and smears leaving when they please, only to soon return Tears down my face, Lord where is the grace? A curse at times of the mindful
Writing about my first experience with meditation and the struggles that came along