#transmitter
as the day has left me
love is still there
for special ones
I thank these inspirations
for love's desire
invigorates and sustains
this weary soul
So I look forward
to being together soon
with company
who make me whole
Now to croon this tune
to a crescent moon
to telegraph it
to telepath it
Just to do this lifts me up
I believe my targets get it
even if they don't know it
I'm a love transmitter
a shining sun
in a world that's done
having fun
because you have won
if you learn to love
Everyone
Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 6:18 AM UTC
Dressed-up words
misguide our naked thoughts
far more than naked thoughts
influence the use of dressed-up words.
Words can be a narcissistic cover-up
or
masks expressing secondary emotions,
even if the wordsmith
is begging to be
needed.
If one desires to communicate
with a purer intent,
to cut through language's sinew
of misinterpretation,
and into truth's marrow,
such communication can happen
within wordless silence
where blooms
touch
waves
salt
sweat
true north,
pantings
in the cold;
the swelling heat
of iron ignition.
When my tongue dissolves the words,
laps up innuendos
and syntax errors of reality
from in-between
the honeyed surface
of language,
over-stimulation
spins me deliriously.
If
this
needs a pause,
a breath to breathe,
to feel the distance,
our wavelengths
will never cease
to communicate.
September 12th, 2015
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC