Paper
Yearns for the trees
No more than I
A humble man
Yearn for the pride of my prior youth
For one you have begun
You can always begin again
In some respects

Isn’t that write?

Just trying to be clever on a rainy day. LOL.

Stashing them everywhere
I store such coins to pay away the could've beens
To keep my bones and alabaster skin covered until the rainy day need not appear

At which time I can and will, take you by the hand
And show you either the former Winding Way, or create anew
By pulling coins out of the thin air, like a magic man

For this is how I make my way into the world of words

It is...yet it isn't. An act after all.

Why?

Because I like her voice.

Why?

Because it feels like home.

Simple resonation. Just because.

A man can only write as much as what he holds behind his eyes
And if you were the last sight to see
I can guarantee that you needn't be surprised
If he runs away from such of sight, occasionally

Because the expression is either all about you or nothing at all
There is no in between such things
No inner lining between the eye and the mind
Of what a man has always seen, in you

There is just the wall in front of him
The key to turn, and the inanimate door to find
Don't take it personally
But a man can only write as much of what he holds behind his eyes

Sometimes the silence I sit myself down is...is a necessary silence. Time to reflect and prepare for the future. Other times its because I'm thinking too much and simply need to stop. Such thoughts are corrupting. They seep into my tongue and spoil the expression. Twisting the verse to fit the topic which is most prominently on my mind.

So you were for some time. As I was silent. #needed

Though storms may come let songs remain
Despite the cites firm embrace

Take photographs to pass the time
As I do wait and part the glass which separates

The scraping skies and flying wings
Both above and below the shallow sea

Let us walk beside the crashing waves
Just you and I, to smell the air and sense the breeze

That we might once again be free

This verse was burred. Deep in a place I used to write in. Amazingly...I wrote this in passing and without much thinking. Describing a few gray images of a storm and it's city. Looking back on it...it's probably one of my most favorite pieces now. (:

Written 12/07/15
Star BG 6d

Scripted words become my friends,
tickling the walls of heart until I write.

They are friends when I can’t sleep
and need to share their company with verse.

Friends when people betray
and scars form for poetic words to speak.    

They’re friends carrying gifts when the sun shines
or below full moon.

Friends when a lover ceases to be
and heart cries at night for balladry to echo.

They’re friends for outlet when sadness comes
opening my heart to feel and heal.

Scripted words are friends
that come in breath of poets mind  
becoming alive to dance in a readers eye.

StarBG © 2017

inspired by the bio of Semihten5
Tyler Matthew Jun 15

This here hurdle, babe,
you know I just can't jump it.
So I'll sit here instead, in the dark,
and I'll just bang on my trumpet.
And every sound that you hear
from the window, dear,
that's just me
wasting my precious time.
But before too long,
I'll get right and keep on
toeing the line.

Everybody out there,
they want you to be just like them.
They think they've got royal blood,
that they should wear a diadem!
And to everything that I say,
they say "no it ain't that way,"
and that I'm just
wasting their precious time.
So I'll just shut my mouth,
I'll get right and keep on
toeing the line.

Let the future be your motivation
Your drive to make it down the road
Remain focused, remain persistent
Although the direction therein, you do not know

May no know, yet, to be specific

The most difficult thing about knowing more
About realizing that someone is capable of more
Is that you may come to expect, and desire more
Which becomes more apparent, when only one mind adores

Nodding
Star BG Jun 13

Coloring my silence with the inks of divine song I write, whispering to awaken souls. Dabbling in a masterpiece of rainbow delight.
I dance, ponder, and dream making a stage for written word to perform.
My gratitude pours out to readers eyes who gather
as words cascade from heart into a waterfall of graceful prose.
And as I feel peace cradling my crafted verse, I smile bonding with energies to share on a vellum canvas inside forever tomorrows.

StarBG © 2017

Inspired by Sun. She is a master of words beautiful.
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