I learnt to

love
myself

after you’ve gone.

                                   &

 that’s one of the best things

            
                                 I’ve felt in
                                    a while.

As the world deafened around me, and the weight within my belly settled, I looked his way and noticed his eyes slowly ******* me.  
He laid his head gently on my thighs and my hands found their way to his hair.
A river; my fingers swam to the shore.
We moved to the couch and my body adjusted next to his, pressing into each other, somehow becoming one.
His arms enveloped me, his lips pressed onto my shoulders,
He took a bite.
In that moment, a flame ignited and I wanted nothing more than for him to fule the fire he now sparked.
His hand reached for me, and I asked for more
He whispered into my ears and I shook my head,
He pulled me closer saying he loved my body,
And I wondered if it was the high or if he meant it
Our lips found each other and we kissed like our life depended on it.
I could taste bitterness and loneliness,
Darkness that could possibly have me wondering how much of my heart is worth my keep and how much is worth drowning in drugs that seem a lot like love and lust, mixed into a ****** concoction of confusion.
The weight of his body moved on top of me, and I wanted the layers of clothes to evaporate like rain, but they were there suffocating the images I once had of a previous lover.
We set into a rhythm and the world seemed to dissipate,
To fade into nothing, but twilight.
As he reached his high, his body settled back between my arms and his lips graced my forehead.
I didn’t want him to love me.
I didn’t want him to offer me the world.
I didn’t want him to save me from the loneliness that, at times, eats me whole.
I wanted to know that at some point, I was cared for, even when I was used for an advantage.

I knocked on the door,
it was a silent night.
I knocked once more,
there was no one in sight.

The house was locked with the key inside.
I sulked and waited till dawn was to arrive.
Then the birds started chirping
and the hens with their sing
Woke every dozer sleeping, unknown to my sting.

But yet the door remained closed
outside which i strolled
I was sleepy, hungry
And my head spun like a web.
I cursed the person who defened the bell.

It was too late!

I couldnt wait anymore.
I held my head and walked away from the door.
As i did the milk man arrived
and the dear maiden inside
Opened the door to my heavens floor.

She was suprised!  seeing me outside

She began to question me in this mode,
"What on earth was i doing sitting on the road ?"
Now it did not matter to me,
For i was too delighted and at last at ease,
to see my way into a deep bright sleep.

anyone can write poetry you just have to be poetic. if you find the way the light falls through your window and onto your bedroom wall pretty, write about it. call it soft and golden like the sweet taste of honey. if it makes you glad to be alive then it’s not silly. you look for the beauty of things, be proud of that. always look for beauty in the little things in life. if you’re feeling sad, describe how you’re feeling with writing. use your sadness to create something. say the heavy rain is kissing you. write about the glow of the moon, the dancing of flowers. make your world magical. collect your metaphors and treasure them forever.

No more


In darkest gloom we wander still.  In a midnight hour we fall.
As the light begins to fade from our eyes, we are breathing still.
In the end, in our darkest hour,
All we can do is fall…


We climb out of the hole and naturally search for the light
And the warmth that engulfs us and breathes into us.
In every dark hour we pray to see the light
And still we search for the reasons that made us become us.


Without this search, mankind would lack a true meaning;
Without a goal, we would remain less than we are.
Throughout our lives we go off in search of new meanings
And as we rise and we fall, we become all that we are.


New experiences rebuild us; our experiences define us.
Still we are searching for what it is that makes us.
What are we to you and what will we become?
What were we to you and what have we as a species become?
In hope we march onwards, wishing to make a change.
In fear we advance no more;
Their steps forward are full of the fear of change.


With age we learn to love and with age our love will grow;
With age we remember more or less and still we continue to grow.
Thoughts without feelings only hurt those we love;
Actions without thoughts will lose us their love.
Through a valley of broken hearts, onward we walk;
When you have walked all over us, will you continue to walk?


In pieces you leave us, shattered into dust;
In time we learn to repair ourselves in rooms covered with dust.
With strength we come back and live our lives once more;
Forward into the future!  Forward once more!


Forever forward into a big bad world;
Onward, forever onward!  We become one with the world.
No longer taken for granted; our lives shape us and refine us.
We morph into what we were meant to be when they gave birth to us.


Mother Earth and Mother, Mom, raise us up from the ground.
When we are lost, they will find us
And teach us how to stand our ground.
Believe in what you believe and fight for your rights;
Because in the darkest of nights, their might will either crush us,
Or make us prove to them that we are right.


With words we can change the world.
What are words without a pen?


In love we let go and give ourselves away;
But when our time has done its ticking, we all fear being taken away.
Desperately we cling to any kind of heart beat that we can keep;
It was ours once, so it shall remain ours always.
This is my life, my castle, my keep.
A man’s thoughts are his own and taken from those he has heard;
We are slow to realise what we have lost, when we let go of love,
Because of what we think we have heard.


Then this life is over and the clock ticks its last tock, one last time.
If I could do anything differently, I would change it all!
And I would still be left begging for more time.


I would remain blind to all the opportunities I had to do things better,
But I would try; I would try!
And I would try once more to make things better.


In the silence we fall, once more to the floor.
In our darkest hour we are lost
And we become no more.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.