DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, from 14-II-'23 :)

comes the nows
of the ways of the hows
the splinter of blood on my fingers
brings the shot of red to linger
so welcome to where my rhymes stale
& my patterns are so long so pale

the follow is the question
& the shame after them trillion detentions
simplicity subsides
duplicity abides
& the words of a drunk lover
come out of my own mouth not another

like a clown I drench the hollow mirror
somedays not to look too bitter
the beads of the black on my hand
& some memories carried by the sand
for the tremble to nauseate
& a once over never to take

except the tides in excess
I am one who knows how to make a mess
demeanors demeanors
dividers of tolerance of life breathers
demanding a timeline
not too dim not to shine

upon the words of a passion
luxury becomes outdated, out of fashion
a self-slap to renew
them thoughts I have on que
but the universe listens
for another Henry to glisten

those of the latter prevail their shadows
& my pretty looks are explained in follow
where did the sensation of such,
feel a feel like that that much?
anticipation for a day of no worth hence
in my world means risking vision for the corner of that lens

AND again, my rhymes stale
& my patterns are pale
the writes discard an existence
& the song of joy half that of an instance
even the written now here
are ones I do despise to repeat on an adhere

                                                                                   -------ravenfeels

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, unloading from the ice age:>

chance for the yellow to dwell
chance for the view to swell
thought that I drive the words I see
for them tending to drive me
& sometimes silence chooses to remain in mislead
despite me thinking it's a shame indeed
I collect dust over my eyes
is it of blindness or a perspective's disguise?
.
                                                     ­                        -------ravenfeels

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, with eyes closed :maybe<

My eyes scan as I read back
an understanding to those feels I lack
I do know the time
yet time itself can be not mine

My eyes scan as I read back
& I wish a recognition of the black
I surrender to the rhymes
even though all in vain all a deaf chime

My eyes scan as I read back
perplex contained in me or am I contained in its attack?
titles remind me of lots
so what does it mean in sixty years when my mind's in knots?

                                                         ­                           ------ravenfeels

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, with no rhymes: it's always a truth within a lie:>

YOU, yes YOU
you know me much better
than I do know myself

I know you much better
than you do so yourself

likewise

yet we both don't know
the truth to that still
because we are so engrossed
in everything around us outside & in
ourselves at the same time

so what shall occur under
the privilege of knowing you
shall occur under
the privilege of you knowing me

so farewell for now
for I shall look after myself

& YOU, yes YOU
you know that much better
than I do know that so myself


                                                                                      ------ravenfeels