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A warmth passed through photons
From thousands of miles away,
A warmth passed through my heart
From connections to my brain,

You give me that same warmth
As the Sun gives in full brightness,
And so I hope you'll forgive me
When I express my blindness,

There's more to me than seems
To meet your eyes my gorgeous friend,
I long for you to truly see what
I can bring to lend,

A steady hand, a steady heart,
A faithful pair of eyes,
I wish most that you consider
That none of this is lies

Changing beyond belief
My faith, my heart and my desires
Like some inch worm with too much food
I metamorphosize

Into a better man I grow
With every breath I take,
I wish to express to you "Love",
In my lungs I build strength

To take the steps I need to take
And fight what holds me back,
I need to fight any callings and
Stay on the right track,

I can do it if I have the support
I need, okay?
So please, for now, give me the leeway to find my own way.

I'm not a missionary though
I know I'm a good guy,
And it is this very thought which keeps
Me awake at night,

I hope and know I'm good enough,
To at least attempt your presence,
So feel no fear when we speak please
if you are feeling hesitant,

I'll do my best to not scare you
And rush this large decision,
And if you say "No," that's okay,
No hurt will come from fission

So take your time and when you feel
A choice is at a close,
Let me hear what you have to say
Because
*Who really knows.
aj Dec 2015
i. WATER: straightforward enough just make sure she can breathe still; not just the kind in her throat, she needs the ocean, a spirit somehow both constant and ever-changing; you may try to hand her the umbrella but it'll never work, she'd rather drink the sky and wear it in her hair than anything else

ii. FOOD: keep it on hand; lemonade, strawberries, coffee and donuts, pasta; don't get it confused with thought, don't refrigerate a monet, don't put haring in the cabinet; she'll drag you to the museums but i swear it'll be worth it when you see her full and bright and alive against those canvases

iii. WARMTH: wrap her up in your arms every second you see her; wear your favorite cologne and i guarantee she will notice every time; she rises for the sun but lives for the stars, don't forget about the way she turns her face to the sky every time she goes outside; her glow is strong but every so often she'll need a little bit of yours to stay alive
sked Dec 2015
Keep looking and figuring out days in the sun
Life is in front
Yet one retreats
Question: Is the nature of Man unsatisfied with the life he lives?

Perhaps its escape
Away from the apparatus that the world has inflicted
Yet the retreat is futile for one will always get pulled back in
Question: When Man gets immediately pulled away from the fictional realization of his desires, is he satisfied with what He has in front of him?

No desire is ever satisfied
Desire is made up through dreams
It's these dreams make one hate reality
Question: Are the dreams that Man create are what poison them?

Precisely what causes the hurt
Precisely what causes the prolonged
Precisely what causes the boredom
Question:...............................................
"Dreams only have one owner at a time.  That's why dreamers are lonely." -Erma Bombeck
Vamika Sinha Oct 2015
No, I don't want to write a sonnet;
to self-lock in an octave
only clasping a rusty key
-volta-
leading to another office cubicle
efficiently labelled sestet
for its six undone quotas
waiting coolly for my
calculating.

I want to untuck my shirt, Whitman;
to unleash words to gather at seams
then tear them open
like bursting blood cells crowding
out of a wound.
I do not want to fit
flesh into a 'perfect' Barbie membrane,
let me stretch the skin taut as sheets
so I can feel the redness
and gouge underneath.

Clarity glazed the Classical sonata
opaque; staves of controlled fantasy
so imaginable, like an illogically
round orange, sliced
in concaves fat
with pulp, each ripeness methodically
connected by thin breath threads.

This is why we have madness, need it;
bless the ****** of brilliance in Beethoven
symphonies, the metallic muscling
of Ginsberg verses, electronic with strange beauty, holy
and unholy, every ****** mess
in between

The heart can't suffice
by merely inhaling
glitter; I can't dare remember the sane
pretty sighing of a Petrarchan
uttering; canned love,
a predictable malaise packaged
neatly in a bland tome, most likely
beige, with the fashionable odor
of bookish age

And so, serif-writing sweetheart
please don't ask
me to write a sonnet.

too comfortable to tuck my shirt in,
I won't touch I won't touch I won't touch
MT Miller Jul 2015
Burn a match for me,
A single, solitary light
Please, oh god, I need it
Strike it up against my side
It's what I live for,
Searching for the flame
A fuse at high noon,
Nowhere near the night.
You turn your head away,
and I wonder why you still refuse,
Though I beg and plead and crawl.
"Get off your knees," you say,
I only shiver and I fall.
All I ask is a tiny match,
One half-an-inch of flame,
Give it, bring it, feed it to me,
One spark that calls my name.
J Alexander Jul 2015
I invest too many hours creating scenes with words bigger than my imagination. Articulating a grand scheme of vividly painted phrases sculpting the workings of a surreal scenario. Practicing pristine implementation of descriptive speech for God-like abilities to plant emotion. Patiently calculating the steps from beginning to eternity; from birth to infinity.

The deconstruction and reconstruction, razing and elevating, of rewrites cycle through an incessant reel. Connecting bits of frames with no correlation and binding their frayed edges to author an insatiable, perfectly disorganized, cinema streaming through cracks of my consciousness. Hinting at the exception; drawing my attention from the tangible existence before me.
So much emphasis on time.
We spend our lives counting time.
Rolling wheels to the next road sign.
Yet we sometimes forget.
*That its all in our minds
Linger Mar 2015
Beauty
Radiates from your diamond like
Oval eyes as they look upon the
World, giving it's many facets
New meaning with each glance.

Everyone that knows
Your eyes can feel the
Elation of being at peace with
Death now that they have looked into the gates of heaven.

Gazing into them causes deep
Introspection because seeing your own
Reflection through such a perfect orb
Leaves you wondering what you could have been.
You're my brown eyed girl and I love you so much :)
Pax Mar 2015

More Structure, Bald Nature.
Intelligences without a Heart of Conscience.
Lost in the battle of Negligence.

4th piece of the series...
all my pieces are just my observation, i can be wrong or right, totally depends on how you see what's around you. Pondering in Rhyme...
tell me what you think?

Thanks to all for reading...
Grace Yu Feb 2015
The structure of LOVE...
...is an art,
That is visible

The structure of LOVE...
...is a LANGUAGE,
that is spoken

The structure of LOVE...
...is a LIGHT,
that should be kept with truth

The structure of LOVE...
...is a diamond,
that should be valued





And its structure is found,
to which YOU and ME is
RIGHTFULLY BOUND..
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