I know for sure
That if the pretty poet had a life
So long as parrots,
This collection of poetry,
So small compared to others,
Would have been filled with soothing dreams,
Scented with the smell of sweet flowers
Growing in the wide meadows,
Where slender nymphs do live
And little nightingales,
Singing great songs.

A shadow cast across the room
Adopts a lonely size
Familiar, singular;
Belonging to a bride’s.

The turning of a curtain’s cord,
As the breeze blows by,
Rattles in an empty room
Which was occupied.

What good are words that can’t be heard
Or read by whom they’re for?
An open fist that grasps for wind
And memories from before.

She’s waiting in a wedding dress
Perhaps her groom is late?
But that is fine, she has the time;
Forever thirty-eight.

S.O.S.
we're in distress
require immediate assistance.

Come quick as you can
tell your captain, Old Man
and pardon my insistence.

We're sinking fast
our ship won't last
despite our best resistance.

But as long as she floats
get ready your boats
to salvage our existence.

C.Q.D.
please talk to me
as it is, we aren't left much persistence.

Am I
Alive

I am big on iambic pentameter
  About that I could never lie, since
I pass every poetic parameter
  And earned my poetic license

Nothing turns this angel down
Excellence, in the flesh
And if they try, an evening gown
In satin works the best

Is beauty deeper than the skin?
Surely she'll impress
Instead of showing what's within
She forces you to guess

Eyes of gold been tarnished brown
By tears that have been wept
Dark and shining locks abound
Make up for shades not kept

Sin runs red in times of blue
Every angel's seen
Temptation's there to carry you
When you have lost your wings

Consider but the outside shell
For that is most well-known
Appearing to be straight from hell
To garnish feelings shown

How could she be so mean, you ask?
What makes her be so spiteful?
Why can't she see it's not a mask
That makes her feel delightful?

Lies frozen, held through time
In silent desperation
Hiding at the scene of crime
A ****** confrontation

To free the memories from her head
Would unleash such a fear
She'd rather end the night instead
As not to feel him near

Ah, here's the one; the big bad wolf
That's haunted all her dreams
Whom proved too well by wearing wool
All are not as they seem

But I am ****, but skin and fur
And showing her my core
And telling her the parts that hurt
While donning nothing more

He's changed her mind, she's cast astray
But I could be the shepherd
To keep the hungry wolves at bay
As countless dogs endeavored

One light can only shine so much
Before the flame has died
To reignite it just a touch
Of love might satisfy

Surely there is nothing worse
Than feeling left to dry
Entrapped within a lover's curse
And never knowing why

Well, in defense of self-defense
I must admit it's snide
To hang a face upon the fence
Until you've picked a side

It's safe, my friend, just be yourself
Strip down to nothing hidden
And let emotion feed your health
By eating the forbidden

A heart must be coaxed from its hide
With tenderness and passion
In order for the passersby
To notice what has happened

From way out here it's hard to tell
But underneath a soul
That liberates a girl of twelve
Longs for a soul to hold

To hold would mean to carry, too
When harsh times rear their heads
To be the one to follow through
When love needs to be fed

But most of all it means to dress
With confidence or loathing
Just make sure you can impress
A saint in Sinner's clothing

I dare not listen to the news.
I squeeze my eyes shut and refuse.

Torrential cries and senseless violence
I look past to hold my silence.

Is this so wrong?
It's not as if
My worrying the world will shift.

I do not know if it is right,
But I will skip the news tonight.