I'll pen a hundred poems,
But it doesn't matter,
If you don't read 'em.

You're my best critique,
I need you in and around my art,
Please keep reading?

In my quest for dreams that soar on wings of light,
You come, a beacon bright, dancing in my sight,
Laughing, singing, painting the canvas of my heart,
Your talent sparks a fire, a flame that will not part.

As I stumble through the labyrinth of my mind,
You illuminate the path I thought impossible to find,
A gentle touch, a whispered kiss upon my soul,
In your presence, I finally feel whole.

New beginnings bloom like flowers in the sun,
Your love like a melody that has just begun,
I learn to embrace the beauty of being me,
To love myself, to set my spirit free.

In this dance of life, you are my guiding star,
In your arms, I forget all scars.
Your laughter is a symphony that fills the air,
Your kindness a balm for every care.

Passion ignites like fireworks in the night sky,
Happiness and hope shine bright in your eye.
In this romance of hearts beating as one,
I bask in the joy of all that you have spun.

So here I stand, grateful for our intertwining fate,
Your presence in my life, a gift so great.
I thank the stars for bringing you near,
My Light of Inspiration, forever dear.

Oh, my muse! Without you these gardens,
Though spring still comes after frosty winter,
And flowers still bloom, in corners and center.
But there's none to admire daisys alongside,
No-one to watch bluebells and remnicise.

Oh, my muse! Without you these roads,
Though they are still bustling with public,
All moving, to and fro, healthy and sick,
But my walks are far from straight path,
Staggering forward with only little faith.

Oh, my muse! Without you these days,
Though I wake up and follow my routine,
And watch some old and some new scenes,
But somethings always missing from the play,
The lead whose entry seems to be delayed.

Oh, my muse! Without you these nights,
Though Luna spreads it's silvery moonlight,
And twinkling stars still light the dark sky,
But my heart is far from being tranquil,
A slight bump and the chalice may spill.

Oh, my muse! Without you my pen,
Though it still writes whenever it is asked,
And forms phrases any when needed,
But the poems in my mind hide in dark.
For you to come, ignite them with a spark.

(U)ltimatel(y)
is a word
whose control
lies in the
the first letter
and reasoning is
questioned by the last

Dear Miss Beauty Queen
Americana Daydream
Goddess to be honest

Wrapped in a crown of Midwest Mindset
I wanna be enveloped in the hope that you project

From your lighthouse
You beacon
You glow-up our city

Hey rising sign,
I wonder what it’s even like
To be in the shadow of the light that you shine

Libra Ascendant,
You’re just so **** inspiring
Like how Lake Michigan seems never-ending

Je nes sais quoi—
I’m just tryna find the right words for you

Arranged on your apartment floor
Weaving worlds
Into a collage of celestial imagery

I'm Stargazing into your galaxy eyes
Watching them burst and come to life
As you tell me all your big big plans
We all know that you ate
What if we’re great?

I swear to Goddess
You’re like a bad ***** Disney Princess IRL
Musing these dreams to take flight
with a little faith, trust, and some of your pixie dust

At the center of our city
Your heart is the art of the war
Dear lil Miss Helen of Troy-
You’re more than the reflection
of the ones that love you—
You’re how the light shines back

Spinning broken mirrors
EARTH THE POWER
Back from the ones that took your grace for granted…

JE Ne sAis quoi,
I'm just tryna find the right words for you...resilient

Laying around, serenely relaxing with insight
Long legs, her knees up in contemplative sight
Delicate feet cradle her glass, a wine’s warm glow
Inspiration’s spark, as the seed of artistry grows

Her bed, a canvas, for dreams to unfold
Brushstrokes of thought, as imagination’s told
A woman’s introspection, inward yet free
A creative soul, colorful and carefree.

Cupid, you foulest of the archers
How you lodge your arrows deep
It is like a fire burning my heart
And I have no room to bleed
Apollo archer of poetry
Please pierce this dart in my chest
That I might write this poem in blood
And with fatal words, confess
She never loved me at all
And I have no reason to persist

I didn't want to sit and pose for you
I didn't want you to paint me
For all that I was in that brief moment
I was not enough yet then
And I had no desire to be your muse
I was sitting right in front of you
Eyes begging you to keep me forever
At the table next to you
On the other side of the couch
Or to the right of you while you sleep
I don't want to be hung on the wall
Not touched for months at a time
Something you passively think about
While I'm left out to dry
What a cruel thing to do to someone
The glass pedestal you put me on
Cut me when I fell from it
Will you paint that too?

as happens, some days, many times,

one thought stops.

Pops, you might think, but
stops, silent. Stop.

Nada mas, allowing critical discernment,

discovering the use of the verb, believe

projecting from letters spelling chants

in single breathed tones exhaled,
in Mongolian we all feel we understand.

Anotia means no ears, in Greek, I think,
persistant notion
conscience, earless urgings, mused
ambient conditions considering,
maybe amuse means being used to be
what
I
am
in mind
being integrally
essentially a thought
in words ex nihilo
in current context, from no good reason
written, never spoken, spelled and cast,

by accident
here… sure the thought terminated…

then you thought it kept on…