As brave as my poems.
As simple and stark.
As concise and clean,
with a definite end,
yet with room for expansion,
allowing the reader, the hearer
as much space as they need,
giving permission to speak,
to complete the thought
or to simply take it as read. 

Oh, to be as brave as my poems.
A rift off a line from Fiona Benson in interview: " brave as my poems."
Without you
I’m no longer able to write

You were the key to my mind
The spontaneous combustion
That happened inside,

Was all because of you,

Your love,
Your affection,
Your lips,
Your way of thinking
Your hips,
Your laugh

Fueled me,
Made me happy,
Made me wait
For tomorrow
To come,

You don’t know
How much I needed
That in my life.

A reason to wake up for,
A reason I Can Hug,
A reason I can cry on,
A reason to write
To live.

And most importantly,
For the first time

Someone I could love.
It’s funny, how I write so much about love, but haven’t tripped for someone yet..
People think it's the love and the sex
The deep emotional vex
That completes the hex
But it's really seeing the piles of paper
That never seem to taper
Get put into print
In a text size that you don't have to squint
A sense of joy and accomplishment
That's why I get so much elation
An old house always getting renovation
Some of us attempt to deconstruct those walls
But we're invincible with the notepad and pen
I have this giant grin on my face
When I write in a cozy place
And meet the quota I set
No matter what response I get
I shall be happy to be able to hike up the word count
And do what I enjoy
That's what makes this all worth it.
The sun was bright and the breeze was nowhere to be found.
I sat alone but that wasn't a bad thing.

The peace I needed was not what a average man desired .
Most of those I knew had lovers , wives, family's , jobs that paid well and destroyed there souls all the same .

I had no responsibilities some thought this wrong.

I had once had a woman.
I in truth had known the comfort of many.

I loved one she no longer thought the same.

I never settled for something else when I could have that which I desired .

I didn't know freedom we all have our boundaries.
But sometimes alone in the silence I knew a peace few ever could .

I had the page and that was good enough for now .

Now if only I had a cool breeze and a cold drink then you probably wouldn't be reading this.

For life is always best lived not written about.

This was simply a pit stop and nothing more .

So easy

The words must flow without delay.
A writer’s block must be kept at bay,
By constant thoughts and creative work.
When the page is blank, you must find the words.

If you lose your faith in the fact you have talent,
You cannot just give up on opportunity, you must grab it;
For now is your time to seize the day,
For tomorrow will always be too late.

If you procrastinate, you will do nothing.
If you try; what more could you possibly give?
You can only do your best and if you do find the right words,
Then in the end you will have succeeded.

With empty thoughts and a head without,
Just write something, anything and the good will out.
If you begin, then you will see,
That you can accomplish meaning.

(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

Some people write their poetry in the shadows.
Some people seem to like what I write;
But if everybody reads my poetry and stays hiding in the shadows,
How can I know what is right without a little insightful advice?

(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
It ain’t heavy Babe

Writing lines so soft they can never be heavy.
Driving along in my Beetle; dreaming about a Chevy.
Time to begin again; getting ready.
Lovin’ ain’t as easy as they all say it is.
Still I’m heading out west, looking for something steady.

Been rolling my whole life through, with love on my mind.
I’ve climbed every hill that stood in my way,
And I sank into every ditch that I could find.
My heart is a heart-seeker, but my lovin’ eyes have been blind.
I believed in the unbelievable; wasted so much time.

Could have been a contender,
If only I had the talent to succeed.
I could have made something of myself,
If only I knew just what to do with this plasticine.
Sang songs of love and sang songs of hate.
It all took every piece of me.
Wrote poems about my every day, every day
And all my nights and in all my dreams,
But still I am left here waiting, praying for her love.
Love is a boulder, upon my shoulders,
And I’m feeling heavy…
Maybe I should do something good.

(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
sar 2d
i write "you"
like you are the lines
in my palm
and the blue in
my blood.

i write "you" like
you is me
and the air you breathe
is in my lungs.

i write "you" like
i have the stars of your eyes
in my heart
and your body is carved
to mine.

i write "you" like
we have met and
like i love you,

(i do).
i like you like i love you
My words bunch up in my throat.
I want to comfort people with my words, sweet as honey,
But they're too thick to come out.
I finally get them out, but they're weak and useless.
How do I get them out?

My touch falters.
I try to reach out and help with a gentle touch,
But it lands awkward and uncomfortable,
People edge away not wanting to be touched by me.
How do I fix my touch?

My eyes betray.
I try to tell stories through my eyes,
To spare people my words, that stick like honey,
I look to try and keep my poisoned hands away from them,
But all they display is hurt and sadness.
How do light them?

My writing helps.
I write down all the thoughts that stick like honey.
I try to touch the reader's heart with my words.
I hide behind a screen so they don't have to see my eyes filled with sadness.
How do I do this without a screen and keyboard?
And so it ended.
The beginning of the chapter already
torn apart like it was a false start,
the paper confetti scattering in the wind.
Our lead bodies drag across an endless sheaf
searching for the right metaphor, yet we
splinter and stagger instead.
We scribble around each other, our words intertwined yet
apart, neither of us knowing when we would
rhyme again.
And so this narrative goes on, in the hope that
someday we will be on the same page with the
right ending.
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