My joints ache inside my body

Heart is pounding like a hammer in my chest

Veins are itching with emptiness

It is lonely without the company of chemicals to converse with my cloudy thoughts

Come home
Need you now more than ever

I am waiting for you to make me feel alright

Disconcerted
by Michael R. Burch

Meg, my sweet,
fresh as a daisy,
when I’m with you
my heart beats like crazy
& my future gets hazy ...

Keywords/Tags: Meg, love, lover, fresh, daisy, heart, heartbeat, crazy, pounding, future, hazy, bachelorhood, engagement, marriage

MAGIC OIL
Magic oil home magic oil our orchard,
Here impecunious was not recondite to crime.
Stealthy couple marched to the altar against their pride
And the coffin of voices flunk to put asunder.

Magic oil today! magic oil tomorrow!
Where painters salvage the oil as the oil rig,
Opulence buries the scribes and his tools
Up you see guards pounding the gardner

Magic oil no sitting on the fence
Here menace is please been recipient of felicitation
Where my father curses all day long in melancholia
Nodding to the tune of manor with no praxis
Magic oil where preachers cook the book
Where christ denies his peter and refuses the tax
Here shepard pockets his sheeps and mohammed laugh
Relijiosity army of largest temples for the world to learn

Magic oil like the orchid oil
Where saboteur greasing palms was a norm
Our heros casting their faith beyond Abacha loot
Here the beggers you fed suddenly turned feeders

Magic oil where serene was once a time
Sleep not moulting in to the further days
Dine not with this shaman that menacled you to yesterday
Where clown dictate the podium before the colonialist

Magic oil  crossing to be a curse
When others were sick we serve and dance
Where we pay and pray for sharks and their fishes
leaders blessing the fishers purse we curse the osprey

i blow the smoke out

along with my worries for the night

i feel my eyes get heavy

i feel my body getting light

see my veins protruding under my skin

hear my heart pounding aggressively within

my stomach yearns for hot food

the music puts me in a good mood

i feel a roller coaster in my head

before i know it I'm in bed

From the tears that fall
To the pounding wall
Nothing stings more
Then the hurting inside

It's a rhythm,
Pounding in my brain,
For words to match.
That's the aim.

This poem has rules,
For which I make
The words to follow
Or the rhythm breaks.

Four lines a verse entails.
The rules are clear to me.
Lines second and last
Must have synchrony.

Some call this rhythm poetry,
To most a simple rhyme,
The words are much more to me.
They help improve my mind.

With every verse I write
New words come to me.
The rhythm and good luck
enhance my vocabulary.

Like the pulsing of a drum.
The rhythm has a beat.
The words, they march to that.
With measure and repeat.

Now the poundings stopped.
The words all written down.
I can rest a while
Listening for that sound.

It burns like an acid,

these hot tears,

Tearing through my skin.

The inside of my chest shredded,

And it's your hand this time,

That holds the carving knife.

Through it all, I hear a pounding-

                          
                                          It's my hand on the table.
                                          As some tune's stuck in my head.
                                          I look around at all my friends,
                                          Grins and smiles a blaze by the fire.
                                          And for the first time in a long while,
                                          I join in, and I'm okay.