I'm only able to see the world through one eye,

And yet I see more beauty in it than those who see out of two.

You spread like
A wildfire inside my soul.
I breathe you in,
But you choke me as I let you go.

You shine in my darkness,
But you burn me with the sunlight.
You give me wings,
But they're broken and I can't fly.

You chain me up
Still you gave me the key.
But my hands are tied,
And I can't break free.

A very rich man
Came walking down the street.
He saw a lowly begger
Clinging to his feet.
"Spare some change sir?"
He said with no remorse or shame.
"For just a dollar I'll share my story
And you will know my name!"
The rich man, annoyed, shoved him
"I'm very late! I've no time to debate!"
And he went on his way.

But little did he know
He would meet the man again
On the very next day.
"Spare some change?
I now have asked you twice!
For just a dollar I will share
Some friendly advice."
Again, the rich man angered
Shoved him and went about his way.
Little did he know
He would lose his job that very day.

In few months time,
He was down to his last dime,
Little did he know
He would meet the man one final time.
"Spare some change?
I'll never ask again!
And I will tell you
How we are the same within!"

The once rich man
Tossed his dime
On the ground next to him.
"Alright!" He cried.
"I'm giving up the fight!
Do tell what about me
Has captured your delight!"

The beggar laughed.
"So easily you forget!
Tell me has it crossed your mind
That we have somewhere met?"
The man puzzled for a moment
About the people he had known before.
The strangers on the street,
The beggars at his feet,
Or the salesmen that came in numbers
And showed up at his door.

"Say no more,"
The beggar sighed.
"I can see you don't recall
My name is Fred,
You would know me more instead
If I still worked in a suit and tie.
You couldn't recognize me,
Because you couldn't
See yourself in my position.
But now you do, and so it's true
That we're only the same
In certain situations."

"So what about the lesson?"
The man asked.
"What about that crack?
"I learned that when you fired me,
When the world has taken everything,
The only thing to do
Is to take something back!"

People are angels who have not yet learned to fly.

Some people get butterflies
In their stomachs.
Others, however have moths.

It was the spring,
And it was love.
I was well of age
But remained a child
When it came to matters of love.
We spent our days
In the aroma
Of the greenest fields
Surrounded by the most
Well groomed flowers.
I had picked a flower for her that day.
The blossom in her hair
Has become a daily
Photograph in my mind.
The flower served as example.
For the reason that everything fades.
The flower, the spring, and love.
But also that whatever dies,
New life comes about.
There will always be
Another flower to be picked,
The spring shall come again,
And love is eternal.

Where others were,
I was not present.
While others spake,
I was silent.

As others were,
I was not.
And what others saw,
I could not bring myself to see.

At what age others were,
I remained a child.
And the things they so heard,
I had covered my ears.

While others loved,
And had shared love
With one another,
I loved alone.

I have always had a knack for eavesdropping.
Tho I am not in the least 
Fancied by the distant conversation.
The corresponding voice 
Of the majority's cry.
Place me in a situation,
Shrouding me 
Corrupting my sense. 
The constant laughter
By sounds unbearable 
The foreign words I cannot understand 
Tho do respect. 
The gentle voice enchants me so 
And am saddened by cries of woe
I look upon faces of different races
Precise to their own thoughts. 
My father told me long ago 
The curious eye does not go wanting
And the naked ear is evil. 
Such curious nature
Tho strictly forbade. 
I am bound by sand and sin 
Not to wander aimlessly into that distance. 
My thoughts indeed carry
By the countless tongue.
I hearken close to the strangers voice
To long for something to drown 
Out my own noise. 
In heed of advice only this.
For the unbirthed feeling to belong
And the fragment of admiration 
Lay gently upon my ear. ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

In the old town of Baltimore,
Where the Wild Things grow
Sits a lowly Raven,
Looking over the people below.
Perched on a sill, ever so still
Waiting for him to return,
Desperately calling his master
As the lanterns continue to burn.
He speaks with the dead,
And stands in the shadows,
Listens to birds while they sing,
As the chambers of his lonely heart,
Are ever so emptying.
The Raven, paitently waiting,
Making no steps nor a sound,
Faithful obedient servant,
Friend, eternally Earthbound.
Hear of this creature,
His song is his story,
About the one who was Lost,
This man they called him Poe,
While his name, the rest of the world forgot.
The man dressed in black
We wait to come back,
And bid his children well.
Through the many years of his wisdom,
Is a place we enjoy to dwell.
He calls to the villians to do his bidding
The Children of the night,
As terror takes away the feeling
Of days ever so warm and bright.
"Dessemble you creatures,
Evil and tyrant,
The night is ever so young,
Let's raise our mugs,
You thieves and thugs,
As we wait for him to come."
That is the story
Of the mysterious Raven
Who's been there since time began,
Wandering this Earth for Centuries,
Searching for this Immortal Man.
To this day we light our candles
The night is so black,
Waiting for our Master,
In hopes he'll find his way back.

How I celebrate the morning,
In it's warm, and welcoming light!
Though how I dread the wretched darkness,
And the gruesome tortured night!

For my thoughts deprive me of sleep
And accompany the shadows
Cast in gloom.
And in those hours I only weep
And fear my pending doom.

And even the splendid moon,
Does not lift my spirits, more.
And love grants no boons
Than what my heart had felt before.

I'm not a man of many friends,
I'm a man surrounded by people
Who appreciate my existence
As much as I do theirs.

When I asked for love,
That I might hold it in abundance
I was given weakness
That I might succumb to it.

And though I asked for love,
Love never once asked for me.
I had not known love,
But love knew well of me.

I asked for compliance with love,
Though it never once held favor.
And while I could not
Bring myself to love,
She loved me.

I didn't need help,

I needed you.

I didn't need a light

When I was in darkness,

I needed you

To walk through it with me.

I didn't need a jacket

When there were storms.

I just needed to know

That you would always

Hold the umbrella.

I didn't need a reason

Why I needed you.

I needed you to tell me

That you would never leave.

After 3 long years I have finally finished this poem!

It was many a year ago

And even longer still,

In this lighthouse by the shore,

That I was sure I heard a noise,

A scream at my chamber door.

 

At that moment my soul grew weary,

My spirit naught but ash

Which had carcassed and fell upon the floor.

And my shadow still,

Which Surpassed me

Long ago in the forsaken days

Of Yore.

 

At that moment in my heart

There was a certain burning

Soon there became a 

Constant Yearning

A desire that I had long

Forgot about before.

A series of utter bedlam

Which had never frightened me before.

 

Moments passed

With no mere word

Which was spoken

Though remained unheard.

 

As I kept to myself

Upon my many books of lore

As their voices broke the

Untaimed silence

And fell upon my ****** ear

 

"Shall I intrude

This proven evil?

Is it man, or is it devil

Which made this deafening

Shrill upon my door?

Beast or human who so

Dared to leave his darkened

Shadow upon the floor?"

 

At my door

There came a sudden tapping

With many voices overlapping

The voice of those

Who had been dead and gone

Long before

Once a knock, nothing more.

 

As fear burned within my eyes

From my chair

I was yet to rise

presently here

and no further

My soul I could pertain no longer

My faith doubted by the

Very thing which stood

Behind my entrance door.

 

"Sir," said I. "Forgive me

If I seem mistreating

But the simple fact is

Entrance indeed you are

Entreating."

I stood there my heart ever beating.

 

"Late is the night

I have no room to borrow.

Though indeed

You may return tomorrow.

Surely your departure

I must implore.

 

I admit I have not remained

A well kept host,

I am a man not visited my most.

I have my doubts

And I became engrossed

When I was sure I heard you

Knocking at my chamber door."

Twas here had I opened the door.

 

Somewhere deep into that darkness, lurking,

Was a beast who stood emerging,

Demanding acknowledgement that I’ve never once gave before.

And with that reason,

In my heart I felt such treason

Such betrayal have I never felt more!

“Are you are you man or are you beast?

Are you coward, or are you least?

I demand you reveal yourself to me!”

 

Slowly, ever slowly

This visitor, rude and lowly,

Came into the light wholly presenting himself to me!

 

The Horror! The unspeakable truth!

Had I been such a fool in my own youth!

For I tell you in God’s own truth,

That child was me in my own youth!

Here I slammed the door!

 

 

And this creature, never speaking,

Is still entreating entrance at my chamber door,

And his eyes have seen all things

From demons jeering,

And the light above him dreading,

To cast even his shadow upon the floor.

For in life I’m caught in dreaming,

And the scream shall poison these dreams forevermore!

I wrote this fictional letter, upon recommendation on a website to put an end to my insufferable writer's block and to inspire me to write further.


Dear sir,

Of course I realize, that it has been longer than intended since I have last written to you. In that aspect, I assume that upon the arrival of this letter, you will find yourself in a series of bewilderment, whereas, I have only previously written to you when it came to a matter of expense, and for that, I apologize.

When I think upon the past twenty four years, that I have called you "father," I feel great shame in the way I have acted previously. You of all people would know the nature of my being, what I am accustomed to and capable of doing and still do you show such kindness in your heart.

It is true, that when I have been caught in dispute, I have called upon your name, for I have had no other to call "friend". Only now, in this present day, do I write to you this letter. Not with requests, but with the secrets of my heart, things that I have not once spoken of, that only I know.

When my thoughts reflect to the past, I see how many things you did, within your power, to provide for us children, of your generous nature and kindred spirit, in spite of the most things of utmost ignorance, and ingratitude in my heart, you did for me.

I write to you, also, because I have none other to write to. I am alone. The fact of the matter, is I have been alone, longer than I have cared to. People and things of the past, have since held me in abandonment, and all hope has flown from me.

I am not well. Physically speaking, I am fit as a fiddle, though I have not since been tune with life. She has taken all means of enjoyment from my life. There is no light to be found. She has, in a way, corrupted my very means of existence.

Would you not write one letter to me? Has all means of humility escaped your character? Is my suffering, not in the slightest a matter of importance to you?
For God's sake, I admit the deed! I am indeed as you've said previously, an ignoramus! But there is a matter at hand, more crucial than this unnecessary feud!

I do hope, for my sake, that you should find some peace in your heart, before mine ebbs away from me further. It would indeed be a shame, that I should die all too soon. I do not, by any means have the intention on taking my own life, but the issue at hand has since left me broken hearted, and physically ill with shame.

May God have mercy on you, sir.

Your Servant,
H.A Love.

Must I pretend
That I have no will
For such a rhyme to be penned?
What to do? Woe is me!
Shall I torment my thoughts longer,
Or shall I flee?
For what then,
Has life for me, set aside?
What for me, will life provide?
My passion is only found in dreams!
Such a place
To satisfy my means!
And it is by no means
That I should put away these dreams
For what more is life better served
Than dreams?

My dear brother, I should hope
This letter finds you well,
And has not aggravated
Our relationship further.

The dreadful winter
Is here again at last,
And the year is 2020.

Of course I realize
That you have been
Long since dead,

Tho I write this letter
In my own form
To communicate with you.

How I miss things in our own time.
The smell of barley,
Leaves me ill with longing for home.

I should have taken my place
Between you and our parents
Long ago.

Transportation is different
In this age and time.
There are no carriages in sight.

I'm concerned, brother
Of things in this world.
I live in a world full of masquerades.

Letters are a thing of the past,
And the accursed "internet"
Has overruled our old-fashioned ways.
(How I loathe Thomas Edison!)

In short, brother, I am ill.
Not of life,
But without any will to live longer.

We've since reached
Another century,
And yet have had anything to improve.

How many centuries
Must I suffer longer?
How must I part ways with life?

Godspeed, brother.
Until we should meet again.

O Maria,
Through the misted fog
Indeed I come.
Shrouded by the wretched smell
Of twenty shipmates
Lying, dying,
Beating, hating,
Praying it's not too late, Maria!
Tho the eyes of the world
Will not see thine beauty
And a thousand men
Cannot save thine soul
On the waves against the storming tide
Thou will watch as I return!

"Step right up
And give it a go!
Ladies and gentlemen
Prepare for a show!

With my elixir,
You'll see oh so fine!
Step right up!
Who will be first in line?


A man makes his way
To the front of the stage.
"I only have one question,
How is it made?"

The man shakes his head
And smiles with pride
"It's an old family secret,
I cannot tell you what contents
Are held inside!"

But it costs a shilling
And not a cent more;
This is a deal
You shouldn't throw out your door!"

"But What's the trick?
What is the catch?"

"To Prove you are quick!
And the others are no match!
But i will agree,
You'll want me to prove!
Watch and you'll see,
Your aiming improve!"

The pistol is fired,
The hat is thrown in the air!
No more enjoyment
Would one find there!

The pistols fired,
The lead hits the hat!
What more excitement
Would you feel rather than that!

"How is it done?
How can it be?"
Asks the mammoth crowd
Gathered as far as the eye can see.

Amongst them there,
In the crowd A man stood
None other than Mister Hardin
Who was up to no good.

"You're a fraud," said he.
"It is easy to tell!
You're quite the schemer,
And I'll send you to hell!"

The pistol is fired,
As death fills the air
Twas the last time
That Johnny  did not play fair.

Alas, the feeling has kept me ill
That mocking passion within me still.
For I know well, I am shorn of my pride
And no manner in life shall provide.

How I loathe the poets
In a time before!
And the use of language
Which exists no more!

Try-how I try!
To comprehend the subtle wording
And the use of literature today
From yesterday converting!

And even the pen! A simple pen!
Mocks me with its cruel indifference
And the blank page, which words appear
Though my mind, shows interference!

Critics all! And I am mine!
How I long to make a piece so fine!
Alas the feeling since has left me ill
That mocking passion within me stills!

Ah Torn is the sacred veil
Love is forevermore!
Ring the bells,
A lonely spirit dwells nevermore!

So late the hour, so sweet the tune
I find my solace neath the moon.
While the village sleeps, and all is sound
Such a place where love is found.

Our talks were civil
And our feelings glad.
Tho the white dwarf stars
Had left us sad.

At rest upon
The crescent brim
I lie and sing
My somber hymn.

And the moon
Who has heard my somber tune
Would permit my soul
All too soon.

Tho the moon's own light
Begins to fade,
I must depart and return
On another day.

Look, for death has cast its shadow
And Reared its head.
Now my love that lies before me,
Has left a feeling filled with dread.
How her eyes
That has seen all things,
What a mood of macabre
Over my soul it brings!
And her lips,
That have still much left to tell,
Now lies with secrets
Which she knows all too well!

Hear the clanging of the keys,
The Dreadful keys!
What a mood of sorrow
The wretched piano brings!
How they clang, how its tune
Would drive me mad all too soon!
And the heavens hold their ears
All hours of the night
While I sit in tortured silence
In meakness and in blight!
Even the gruesome metronome
Have I grown to envy now
Its constant ticking with my heart
Has left a feeling so profound!
Hear the constant banging of the keys
The ghastly keys!
I have grown tiresome
Of the unwelcome tune it brings!
Through every grueling sound
Has left me anxious now
And how I rue the day
From this horrid instrument I found!

For things in Life,
Which I love most
I cannot hold.
The things in life
Which I hold presently,
I must not love.

The ring upon my finger
And the sweat upon my brow
A perfume around me sweetly lingers
As I take my solemn vows.
The jewel upon her hand
Has since left me with a feeling, grand
And now I am well endowed.
And my love, who loves me fair,
Looked as the angels with golden hair
Had found her purpose being there
And my heart is delighted now.
While a feeling came o'er me
As she spoke these sacred vows
Such desire burned within me
Our love, is like a fire now.
Love! From love I could not be shaken
God forbid I'm lost in dreams,
And if so I will not waken!
Lest sadness over me be taken
And these vows would be forsaken
Then in truth I would be dying now.

Wouldst thou feel loved?
Then let not thine heart
From yesterday be worn!
In the world, be one with love
And thine feelings aside not be torn.
The being which thou art,
And things thine eyes have seen,
Take gentle care of thine own heart
And thy wits about thou keen!

Not all depressed people wear black.
Depression doesn't only come at night.
Not all of them listen to metal music
Sadness often comes without a sound.

The world is settled to judge quickly. They fail to realize that the world, too,  began as a dream.

"How Fascinating your mind must be!" 
Take a look inside, and you will see. 
It's very dark, don't lose your way.
People often visit, though never stay. 

"In your head, what would we find?" 
Things are broken, so please be kind!
Scattered pictures from a time before,
You will find it's quite a bore! 

"How lonely it must be inside your brain!"
It is a place that's seen much pain. 
Deep in earth, my love lies cold, 
From every lie it has been told! 

"We've changed our minds
We have our doubts!"
Then that makes two 
Please get me out!

I passed a man
On the street today.
He said Hello
But not his name.

I went to the cemetery
With respects to pay
This is the second time
I saw this man that day.

He'd been there a while
It was easy to tell.
Such a strange place
Where someone would dwell.

I said Hello,
But no answer he gave.
Though I learned his name
When I looked at his grave.

A fool chases his dreams
And leaves himself behind.

Sometimes your friend is your greatest enemy, and sometimes your greatest enemy is your friend. Sometimes, you are both.

The way to love someone with anxiety is to accept the apologies that are not there to be forgiven.

The world we're living in is one big masquerade.

She could light up the night sky
             With the twinkle in her eyes.
I could start fires
              With what I feel for her.

The more you hold someone in the dark, the more that person will find that they are comfortable.

"If A Man's Home is His Castle" this is another musical number I wrote for "Mister Gates and the Return From Nowhere"

If a man's home is his castle
Then I am a king who's been dethroned
A man has his dreams in this world to dazzle
To carve his name into the stone

My life has always been merry
Well ordered, yes some might say
But I've reached the age where
Life has stopped giving
And instead has taken away

If a man's maids are his servants
To obey his each and every command
Then they all have turned into serpants
And I haven't a leg to stand

What other life do I know
But a life of morals and merit
What more may I teach to mold the breed
So one day they might inherit?

If a man's own wife is his queen
To rule each day by his side
Then why must the queen in her way intervene
And mistake my judgement for pride?

A man has dreams, goals, ambitions
To etch his name into time  
To leave his mark into life's own arch
But the man is stripped from his prime

If a man's home is his castle
Then I am a king who's been dethroned
I've never once asked for this hassle
And it feels as though I must suffer alone

Amidst the far, and flowering brush,
Dwelt a place, where,
While we were much older,
Still had we remained children
At purest heart.
The fair aroma reconciled my passion-
The constant burning in my soul
Which I had long forsaken.
There it swelled, and my heart,
While it remained volcanic,
And while the blossoms of the field
Were very well endowed,
In childhood hour,
While my spirit still dwelled,
In the passing hour, I did not.

This is a musical number i wrote for a scene  on a play i am writing titled Mister Gates and the Return From Nowhere. In this scene Mister Gates is being followed home by bums.


BUMS:
It's a cruel, dull life
In the slums, (In the slums)
Considered by the village
We are bums, (we are bums!)

You have silken sheets
And warm feather beds
We have city streets
With a rock to lay our heads!

(TO MISTER GATES)

Please, Mister! Please!
Could you spare a moment of your time?
A portion of your love
Indeed Could make a world so fine!
Please, Mister, Please!

Mister Gates:
I work all day,
To the common man I'm a slave!
And yet the people here
Expect me to give it all away!

Bums:
Think about the children,
Do you have any of your own?
Winter's here again at last
And we are forced to roam!

Our stomachs all are empty,
But our dreams they are full
We are down to our last shilling
A life of a *** is absolutely cruel!

Please, Mister! Please!
Could you spare? Be so kind!
A portion of your copper
Would feed their children and mine!
Please, Mister Please!

Mister Gates:
Senseless lot!

Bums:
Mister, please show some heart!

Mister Gates:
Filthy slobs!

Bums:
By the rest of the world, forgot!

Mister Gates:
Dreadful sobs!

Bums:
We haven't got alot!

Mister Gates:
Why don't you get a job!

Bums:
Please, Mister! Please!

Mister Gates:
I tell you, I will not! GOOD DAY!

(Door slams)

Before you dare fall in love,
You have to remember to
Love someone through their storms.
You've already experienced the rain
The only difference is that
You didn't have anyone
To hold the umbrella.

Some people think its a book
That its just an old wives tale
But they don't know
What you went through
To save my soul from hell

But I know you moved the mountains
And I know you calmed the seas
Just because God loved me

Some people think youre an idol
A fire burning in the night
Some people are in denial
Even though they've seen you
With their eyes

But I know you're coming
Lord I know you're coming soon

And im ready, im waiting
For loves warm embrace
I'm seeking, im praying
To see a smile on your face
When you call me,
When you take me home
And you tell me that I am your own

Sometimes I make mistakes
And somewhere I've drawn the line
But I'm human what can i say
And I'm built by your design

I know you made me in your image
And I know you already knew my name
And You take away my blame

And im ready, im waiting
For loves warm embrace
I'm seeking, im praying
To see a smile on your face
When you call me,
When you take me home
And you tell me that I am your own

Yeah

Lord I'm ready, I'm waiting
For loves warm embrace
I'm seeking, I'm praying
To see a smile on your face
When you call me,
When you take me home
And you tell me that I am your own

I moved to the city
When I was still a child
And people then
They knew something was wrong
They'd always stop and stare
And cut me down to size
Saying "the boys too different
He doesn't belong"

It was 7 years ago
When I came to know her
Someone who saw the man inside
The only one who could see
The man behind the myths
And who could hear the truth
Behind the lies

No one even knew
What I felt for her
No one cared enough
To ask me why
I think the thing
I loved about her most of all
Is how much better I saw myself
In someone elses eyes

One night a man came to my door
With a badge of silver in his hands
He showed me her picture
And he pointed his finger
He asked me why I did it
But no one ever knew about our plans

No one even knew
What I felt for her
No one cared enough
To ask me why
I think the thing
I loved about her most of all
Is how much better I saw myself
In someone elses eyes

We had plans to run away together
Go somewhere where we knew
We would not be hurt
We would Leave town and run away
And start a new life with another name
Until a jealous ex
Boyfriend found her first

No one even knew
What I felt for her
No one cared enough
To ask me why
I think the thing
I loved about her most of all
Is how much better I saw myself
In someone elses eyes

My Notebook,
How I miss you,
And our daily conversations.
I miss the way I clothed you.
Not with outfits,
But with words for all to see and hear.
I miss how it felt,
The continuous flick of the wrist
After each word I would write
And how the way each one
Made me feel just a bit smarter.
You were the canvas,
And for once something in my life
Felt absolutely beautiful.
I miss the adventures
We went on together
And The constant foes and heroes
That we met along the way.
And the millions of people we birthed,
Who's lives are still yet to be written.
I miss the way that I was responsible
For what happened in your world,
When I have no control in mine.
And your lines, so neat and straight
Blending in with every cursive word.
The way the pen touched the paper
Was a thing of such majesty.
And like artists, a poets job
Is to make the world a bit more beautiful
One letter at a time.

A kindred spirit in a dying hour
Such a fate is not my theme!
For a life deprived of an earthly pow'r
On Earth only hope is found in dreams!

Still, I can hope
Though that word since from me departed
Hope is a thing of a passing hour
And desire has left me broken hearted

Desire! What is desire
But the things in life so undeserved
What then if not desire
Has life been better served?

They were learning how to hate,


     And they were loving every minute.

Life is the ultimate mystery. It has no purpose until we create one.

Do I really want to fully figure out
What life is all about?

Not really. Why?

It would take away the rest of the mystery.

If I figured out what I want to do in life,

I wouldn't have time to make new dreams.

Why should brotherhood divide,
As a tree from lightning, strikes?
A break of dawn, a thrash of wave
And love to our fellow man
We so boldly gave.

Why should brotherhood divide,
Will a man with you for a mile, stride?
Through the blazing heat, through the bracing cold
Should the love for man grow old?

Why should brotherhood divide,
Taking oaths, and choosing sides?
Both the old and new, the many the few
Even death will have it's due


Tis the flash of light, the blink of an eye
From mans first breath, to where he lies
Why oh why should brotherhood divide?

I'm born in the wrong generation
And I'm fine with that.
While others are
Keeping up with the Kardashians
I'm busy keeping up with the Jones'.
While others are
Listening to the new album
I'm listening to music
From a jukebox inside my mind.
I remember the 50s well,
Even though I was born forty years later.
I remember watching Jailhouse Rock
At the Drive in, inside of my living room.
The day the music died
I sat at home and cried.
There is an instant running of
"Let's Make A Deal," going on
Inside of my head.
And I can almost hear Dean Martin
Roasting Don Rickles.
Around this time, **** Van ****
Is tripping over furniture,
While Ricky is coming home to Lucy.
Or was it all just a dream that I had?