one day
I’ll wake up
not caring
whether or
not you care

I reach for the beer glass

but the glass isn't much.

I reach the paper

but the parchment has gone stale

and crumbled


I reach for the woman

for thigh

for small of the back,

but she has taken

into unshaven arms

of sleep

and snores


I Reach for the pill

but someone's hid the bottle.

Whiskey makes me sweat

great floods of violence,

sharp words with dagger tongues.

Beer boils yearning

into my blood.


So I reach

for the words

but they too

have dried, withered,

and no longer make sense.

Left
Right
Black and white
through eyes
Light deformed
Creature taken flight
Eyes colorless
lost
broken
nothing
nothing
Nothing but Nothing

Empty

“Ug, I hate the poetry unit.” (Girl in English class #1)
“Saaaaammmme.” (Girl in English class #2)
(Teacher) “Write a poem about...happiness!”
Happiness? All the poems I write are depressing…
What is happiness anyway?
A light?
A sound?
A song?
A feeling?
Or...something more?
Maybe...maybe happiness is like the peak of a mountain.
You must climb, higher and higher, to reach a smile or a laugh
Or, I suppose, happiness could be a lantern.
Glowing in the darkness, allowing people to see the world around them differently.
Giving people hope to wherever the bearer travels.
Or, I suppose, happiness could be a sound or thing.
Like a heartbeat.
Or a laugh.
Maybe even a dubbed anime episode that you’ve been waiting to watch for months.
So, what is happiness?
It doesn’t seem to really have a definition.
I guess it depends on who you are, and what makes you happy.
Ug.
Poems about happiness are so hard to write.

i never finish
i only begin
feelings turn to ink
i let it sink in

i hope the words
will find their way
and lead me to the end

but whether hand or heart
i tire out
and begin again

As I looked upon the
Whispers of the forming
Clouds.
So, shaped like a family of ducks
in their times.
Revealed to me the caspered calm and
Distinct instinct and ‘gifts’ to
Float, without prior education.
Towards the sky forests in
Ease and love.


(c) copyrighted

Tears gently spill out of my mountain top eyes.
Witnessing you becoming a daddy again.
capturing in this precious moment.
The love between a father and this tiny human being.
A gift from God's living dreams.
To give you this angelic blessing.
A beautiful baby girl.
Your beautiful baby girl.
Your beautiful and rare diamond baby girl ring.
A sparkling diamond ring SOUL forged in divinity.
A healing love.
An anointed testament to those great things yet to come.
Welcome to the world.
My precious little baby girl.
A precious little girl,
who has stolen
my heart before
she was even born.
And I promise you that from this day forth.
I will protect you with my
Brave Veteran Soldier Heart.
And when you start dating.
I promise you this.
If your boyfriend treats you wrong;
He will be sleeping with the fishes.
Cause you got my heart forever!
It is getting hard for me to continue to talk.
So, let me speak instead through my tears and giving love.
As you sleep near my soldier heart;
Remember, you got 'My Forever Veteran Daddy Heart.'

(C) copyrighted

I am a spiritual being!
a temporary human being.
A cosmic symphony
composing its own living dreams.
Residing lovingly
within these fragile,
and precious days of me.
After all, I am the Cosmic
Namaste Child!
A divine instrument playing out the breaths of Father God's
incarnating imaginings.

Copyrighted (C)

Who's to say whats a good or bad poem.
The beauty of a poem is in the eye of the beholder.

What each individual can derive from it and relate to about it,

what each heart perceives from the logic/non-logic  of whats written.

A Poem may be super dope to one and not to another.

As readers we can encourage but lets not discourage..

Write on poets or simply writers. (if you must say your not a poet)

When One say's I'm not a poet.. hmm why not?..

What ever you write can pen on beautifully writing comes in a huge variety of styles..

Be free and expressive independently...  
Express on..

Who can tell the branch you can never grow up to be a tree..
Who can say ...
You will never expand creatively.. I see no talent in thee..
Encourage the seed the dirt and the tilled soil..
Be grateful for the air the wind the rains..
and all the contributing things that will make an existence blossom into a great visual expression.

@H.E.R_Poetry S.A.M 2019