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Regina 19h
a brethren of bards
nights' romance
write with owls' nod
Lune-American Haiku
Bryce 1d
The air is wool
It is the shavings of innocence
It is the blood of atomic love
It is a momentary transience

I am a ticketeer
I own nothing but slips of paper
popcorn between the seats
rotting into kernels of knowledge to sleep with

She was and is the secret sucrose
a mysterious chemical, dreaming of becoming
Something that means more than just syrup
or unappetizing things

The earth was a open casket, nothing to hide
the soils and dreams of a ancient soul that had nothing to abide
She and I, lost amidst the widows
holding onto a dream of new life

Coupling together, we sought the stars
We stared through mirrors at ourselves in rings
Saturn and Mars
They the abodes of future eyes and ours

Not ready to see these things, chosen by *** the in-between
Lost in the leaves and the lungs of her tree
I spoke to her, asking her what was
She replied rather callous that there was no love

Let's go on and shear the stars
let's take of their light and share with what's ours
Alight the funeral pyres and bait
*** to give us the gifts He had never taken

Darling, I know I'm not the most beautiful thing
but I have gifts to share that don't hold in skin
they are never wrinkled, never tired, never lost of their youth
They are sweet simple liquor that will intoxicate with truth


I am a tired Deseret dreaming of a new faith
I seek a maiden in which to build the estate
We can make the paradise of Eden on this plane
We can touch the golden calf and make it obey

Give to me your love and trust
I will give my ****** ****
My eternal heart, my corpse of dust
And push towards the solemn Eden of husks
Tia 2d
You have that bright smiles
And your loud laughs
You show your wonderful mood
And your oh so joyful eyes

But behind of all of that
You are really not
Truth is you are scared
Feeling hopeless and hurt

So can you pull that mask off?
That mask! That mask you are wearing
That mask! That mask of happiness
Happiness you are showing us

Will you let us know?
Know those thoughts?
Those thoughts that hurts you
Those thoughts that haunts you

Please let us know, let us see
Let us feel your pain
Because what all of us knew is your mask
Your mask of happiness
I lied in front of the class when I was in College. I lied in front of the class when I said the poem that I wrote was about a friend. I lied when I told them it wasn't me.
the game is my brain laid out on a board
it's inside a mind trap, I serve a lord
to win I must stay alive, perhaps take a slug
my chess piece is harmless, it's only a drug

the game is neither fair or logical or right
nor for the weak of heart who play with the night
it lures with seduction, it breaks me apart
see all that is **** inside my heart

I take adventures, make gains and take loss
tempting duality, I pay the cost
I find failures in you and I wager in strife
I **** others off with my powder and knife

I need you to pretend and pretend some more
until lies and denial become the plays of our board
the game holds everything that my desire can taunt
I can win by surviving and live wishing, in want

the game has no mercy, no rhythm, no rhyme
it pulls me to pieces one move at a time
there is no magic saviour, no doorway out
to get through the madness, I must lay rest the doubt

my mind is hijacked but I think I'm in play
I deny all who love me along the way
a roll of the dice will bring me the rush
live for the danger of a royal straight flush

one card of dopamine so honest and blue
will trump judgement and reason for all that is true
I don't understand it, as I unwind and undo
send me to jail and hope I break through

this brilliant mind plays the game but it is no good
it uses intelligence to lock up the hood
the smarter I am, the less likely to win
the mind will destroy itself, and keep me locked in

roll the dice, pick a card, fight to get home
i'm playing the game but I'm left all alone
move forward, move over and play to surrender
grieve without end for the very next ******

mourn in the knowing there's nothing to do
can't reach me, can't help me, can't make my next move
set another mind trap with blame and demise
the shame, it is blinding my wide open eyes

impulsive decisions make away with the haste
****** with the drugs that allow me to taste
sickness covert, relentless and hidden
the horse in the shadows is the one I have ridden

can I find beauty in the toughest of places
surrender the board in all of life's spaces
maybe I will, and maybe I won't
I'm searching for love without all the don'ts

in repeat patterns, I look for reprieve
make sense of the wisdom in the turning of leaves
ask questions of games that are played in my brain
answers only lead to more questions again

here in the airwaves, crossed the sacred path
the reason for living escaped in the draft
smoke up the joint, keep hidden the flask
let go of the game, find freedom at last
Right along this road I stand and stare
For a hope I held so dear
For the promise in my heart I didn't want to let go

It was on this dark and beaten trail she stole my heart
The fullness of her lips in my mouth still linger
I ****** and pulled enjoying the ecstasy in her juice
Of her lips so full and tender, burning hot
The heat of her love pierced into my soul, propelling the being of me
But now she's here no more
For oversees she has flown
At the airport another man awaits
For the queen I painstakingly made

Right along this road I stand and stare
And see her sink into another man's embrace
And in that moment i saw,
no longer a familiar face
but instead
a golden light gleaming out of you from every individual part of your sacrid body.
Cigarette **** kisses my lips
In smoke's touch
I feel relaxed
You're the match
Lighting up my vice
Killing me softly
Inhale your toxicity
Exhale the life out of me
I loved it.
sunshine in my night
Nightmare in my daydream
Blue is spirit and bright
The color and light
Of a wisp
Seeking through the night

Green is life and Joy
The color
Of summer time trees
The smile when you play with a toy

Yellow is the light of the night
Caring and pure
Helps anyone without a fight
They will be be your light

Black is dark but strong
More fragile then portrayed
but do not think them wrong
They still know love
But with the help of another
To light their way

Red is the sweetness of cherries
They will stay by your side
Their heart as pretty as daises
They love more pure then any other color
Just the sight of theirs or another pain
can make their eyes rain

Orange has the spirit of fire
Much like black and yellow
They will light you through the darkness
Until their fire burns out
Then they need a friend
To help them be free
And be the light they used to be

White i think the most confusing
Their hard to see
But When you see them
Their as special as anyone can be
Their quiet but always outspoken

Purple the color of a cats eyes
So watchful and careful
Ever so wise
Dont under estimate this beautiful soul
For it can go out of control
Emotions so strong but held by a string
They might need a friend
To help them find their wings
These are the colors of the souls
Whats the color of your soul?
The weekends are definitely the worst
The weekends are definitely the worst
Having got thru the last five lonely days
Experiencing the life of a single man

Well baby it’s not fun. I so miss you.
Even though I have a free reign in everything
Everyday the freedom to explore new things
Kind people tell me each n every day heals
Even though the weekends are definitely worst
Notwithstanding , it’s only 8 weeks since you
Died in my arms on that Saturday morning.
Saturday’s have become a dark day for me

As I miss you babe, reciting my poetry to you
Reciting the entreaties I wrote of togetherness
Every day I spent with you were happy days

Days filled with mutual and unconditional love
Even as we gave each other everlasting love
Failing to ever take death into consideration
I think the weekends are definitely the worst
No as I lay here in my very lonely apartment
And watching happy people enjoying life
They act as if they think nought has happened
Even if they do know and display condolences
Like it’s a band-aid over to mend my sad heart
You know Baby that I will never get over you.

The weekends are definitely the worst
Having made recompense to your children
Experiencing the slow ostracism death brings

Weekdays can be filled with many things to do
Only reaching Saturday...I crash land burnt out
Remembering that tragic day of all days.
So my Darling I sit and write my poetry.
The weekends are definitely the worst

Written by Philip.
November 10th 2018.
Remembering a tragic event. The death of my wife
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