I yearn for the days
when I could pull poetry
from my brain
like a string of pearls,
shimmering opal,
so beautiful to all.

Where    have    my    pearls    gone?

I Sense your
morning movement
as you wrap
your sweetest embrace
into my cold heart
bringing heat
to my uncharted
territory
I surrender…

I rave at your arrival
as you drain
my pool of
longing then
satisfying
my hunger
forever
I remember…

We will be writing with a purpose
A reason behind the purpose to write
Let your inner emotions go, and just let the words just flow
You are a Poet
But that is something you must convince yourself
Always remember you are not like everybody else
But then again, you have a choice
Words will be more than just words but have meaning
Understanding with a strategy to find
It’s your inner thoughts combined
Share with the reader your inner horizon
It goes beyond in what the reader may anticipate
It’s about you in what you create
To be a Poet, it’s never too late
What’s in a name, but you must write being your own slate
Your heart is the opportunity to write
It pounds to bring the Poetry out
I hear the reader in appreciation being a shout
Now there is nothing to think out
You are who you are about
So write with enthusiasm in inspiration
There is no separation
So Write On!

You follow me into a dark room
Only to let go of my hand.
I wish my words were more vague,
Something no one could understand.
Blunt and to the point.
I heard you got new windows,
Same painted canvas with
A brand new frame
All the colors you can see-
We don't see the same.
Do you remember the way you
Held my face in photographs?
Or the clench of your hand around my neck?
Do you remember the throes of passion
That I guess were one sided-
See, I remember everything,
Every good memory is yours to keep.
But I'll forget them soon enough,
And remember how you broke me,
And the rest, well, that's history.
If I could word it better, you know I would
It's been over a year since I met you,
And I love you more than I should.
There's a thousand bridges burning down in my chest
Ashes and smoke, above and below
There is no hope for us now.
You can get rid of my things,
You can replace them;
You can wash me away,
Cleanse your body of me.
But you cannot erase history.