It’s the early morning that does it for me
I don’t mean to seek it But I am sought in these quiet empty-full hours - All or nothing out-with-the-bath-water seclusion. (Delusions of liqueur cocksure Every flavor of azure) Oh god what I would give to extend the great expanse of 4am, ribbon slick and taut as a ****** And me, warm and creative. It’s the early morning that does it for me I’m staying up with a song. -Call- Respond Eyes and lips and abandoned ships Mirages of **** below long, fluted throats Gliding between notes and me too Ready to drown you. (It’s the early morning that does it for me) As you give yourself over to the caresses of the mistress and dream of flying over perfect fields of wheat and then land and then wake ≈furrowed≈ disappointed to find a cold pillow where a head should be asleep I release my held breath and meet you Half way I was singing I say And collapse in a heap Wet hair Bare feet It’s dawning and day Closing my eyes Sunset at sunrise Holding onto a secret key I dream of the sea
A nice dream
The human of all spiecies
The salt of all spices The electrons to something bigger The consiousness to the bigger picture. How much code do you have to optimize to be able to store the human figure? Do you have enough money in your bank account to secure the last drop of the pitcher? Take away an infinite-number of amounts it will never really differ. The proof is in the pudding but even with the key to success, some people will wish to turn back into beginners while others can not afford to enjoy that X-mas dinner. The recipe shows we are prone to be sinners...
she lives inside a cage,
but he wanted her to fly. he knows it was deranged, but she wanted them to try. they know they couldn't. they know they shouldn't. they both know it was misdemeanor, they both know they were sinners.
My daddy was no saint,
My momma was no sinner. Both are things that I ain't, I'm somewhere in the middle. Somewhere lost between Heaven and Hell. Somewhere unforeseen, A unique blend to compare. Everyone used to speak The rhyme of my last name. A rhyme oh so bleak, It brought tears to my eyes. It once went: A Starr I are. A Saint I ain't. But now I know, How far from the truth it fell. A saint I may not grow, But how far from the sinner's child I am.
Black rosary beads
Holy prayers uttered to God Penance for my sins
Sometimes I wonder
How someone could ever call something so incredibly beautiful A sin Check your bible my friend Your translation is twisted We're all sinners Equal in the eyes of God Did you forget His entire thing Is loving us All So say it's a sin. Tell the world how you hate us (Hate is a sin) Say you're not one of "those homophobic people" But tell me it's wrong Right to my face My friend, you've become My enemy But I will love you (God says that's something we all should do) So I will pray earnestly For the day You realize I'm "one of those awful sinners" And maybe you too Will understand and accept my God (Because he accepts and loves Everyone) Until then, I won't tell you if I get a girlfriend (But I swear I'll love her) And I'll expose your children To all the "horrors of this earth" (Because I believe they're beautiful) And really, how could anyone call something so beautiful a sin
"Love covers a multitude of sins" (:
(Also this is the fourth poem I've posted today? I think? So oops didn't mean to spam, just have a lot of feelings today) :D
I kind of believe nature. Nature had decided to hit the reset button 5 times. Now the sixth i don't think nature had anything to do with corona
Its just us,Humanity as a whole paying for all the sins that we committed or its just another game by the underworld to profit the hidden communors and crème de la crème. Either way humanity doesn't deserve to be alive, for all the resources that we have and all that we salvaged in the few thousand years, we just rotted to become worse than what we were.
Long live the planet.
I've written and read
poems about the stars and how they were so fascinating, empowering and ultimately, unreachable. I've heard stories about angels and saints; Their goodness, nobility and purity, serving as epitomes of what Man could and should be. But the saints, they were once sinners and there are angels who fell from grace. Stars that turned into black holes, nothing is safe. Falling is inevitable, even for the untouchable, and what we believe to be unreal and ethereal.
She said, "Not even the stars are safe in the sky."