#wed
I give you rides in the winter,
When it's too cold to walk,
My mom is always saying how cute your clothes are.
My Grandma wants to meet you,
The girl that makes me so happy,
Does that mean they'd except you as a member of our family?
Romeo and Juliet were wed,
But they didn't make it very far,
Let's be married by the river,
I'm sure we'll last longer.
Mar 11, 2025
Mar 11, 2025 at 1:27 PM UTC
Men can have anyone but Her,
pink scattered petals fly
My dear, your eyes flutter
at a complete standby
she starts to splutter
when I kneel below the blue sky
and began to mutter
she lets out a faint cry
and hearing that, it made
My heart melt like butter
Feb 25, 2019
Feb 25, 2019 at 1:44 AM UTC
Hello?
Is there anything left? Body heat, perhaps?
Is there a pulse or a deft heartbeat?
Any rough oceans of emotions?
You sit there, phone to your right,
Laptop in front of you, adjusted to the adequate height.
You’re motionless for most of the day,
Inebriated or mindless for most of the night.
Your only movements change channels,
You’re lonely, for your soul never travels.
You remain in the same place,
Occupy the same space, the same nook;
The only humanity you see, you don’t touch or feel, you simply look –
No interaction, only to laugh and mock like a rogue crook.
Your friends and loved ones are images on your phone,
It feels like solitude is all you’ve ever known.
You pose for the camera, but only fool yourself;
You close yourself off, you scoff at those who show emotions.
When was the last time you let yourself be vulnerable?
When was the last time you didn’t pretend you’re unstoppable?
Have you ever breached the barriers of your blindsides?
Have you ever gleaned beyond those white lines?
Please, take off those slave-forged shoes,
Run freely in the soil, you have nothing to lose.
Switch off your mobile prison cell,
Don’t let yourself drift back into this iniquitous hell.
Embrace your soul, peer inside;
Be alive, don’t cower and hide.
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 9:38 AM UTC
joyous bliss
joyous bliss
soon they'll be wed
in joyous bliss
rings exchanged
as a sign of love
circles symbolizing
everlasting love
joyous bliss
joyous bliss
soon they'll be wed
in joyous bliss
two souls connecting
to an elated union
by a love so blessed
of communion
joyous bliss
joyous bliss
soon they'll be wed
in joyous bliss
days of happy promise
they'll behold
on their journey
paved with gold
joyous bliss
joyous bliss
soon they'll be wed
in joyous bliss
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 8:41 PM UTC
A skin of threes your majesty
Pepperdine and cypress trees
Commit to me next summer please
My needs of us together lover
Let us wed us into we.
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 1:28 PM UTC
The moon behind palm
Smiles, now,
Like the first time I’d met my
Second wife;
My second life,
My second shot at something,
And in seconds, like lightning,
Lost to dawn.
Ushered came the day that’d drag
When – The sun could burn,
The sun would burn;
The thirst, always there to remind.
So I’d wait on the lawn,
Under that same palm,
Smile; later,
To wed come dimpled stars.
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 10:46 PM UTC
your taste lingers thick
on my tongue,
like the wedding cake
placed before me;
half-eaten, and
mostly smeared,
as i think of what
he could've done for me,
but didn't
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 6:41 PM UTC
To dearest,
I hope you can view me more clearly after this poem:
2 pm 7/14/1788
I am lying down wondering why you are not replying
I wrote you a letter worth crying
3 pm 7/15/1788
I heard your voice
In nothing but noise
4 pm 7/16/1788
I remembered what you said--
5 pm 7/17/1788
I prayed for us to be wed
6 pm 7/18/1788
I got tired of waiting
7 pm 7/19/1788
I heard-- I cried
8 pm 7/20/1788
You died.
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
People diein' on the streets.
****** puddles at our feets.
But we could be a family.
We could be a whole.
We could be together.
But no one could be cold.
If we could live on an island,
no hate,
no guns,
no war.
We'd look back and wonder,
what was it all for?
People diein' on the streets.
****** puddles at our feets.
Gangs,
tempts,
nudes,
exempts.
We sit at desk,
eating or eaten.
we laughed at or laughing.
beating or bleedin'.
We know the truth, but call it cruel.
The cruel one is we, the blind fool.
People diein' on the streets
****** puddles at our feets.
Who shot the most guns?
Who then killed them all?
Who didn't mind a casualty?
Who could be responsible?
"Not me!" we cry,
"I'm a good soul."
But even if we declined,
can I be told where they go?
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 10:52 PM UTC