winnie the poem

winnie the poem Oct 12

I want to make you speak
and make you preach, speak out,
not slip up but let words
one after another

Word after word past the ears
as words
should go, forward
to run on under an existence

No word stripped away
just moved forward
to go onwards,
standing beside you

winnie the poem Oct 12

Poet.

A person and the language
often speak in their own way,
Poetry is the emotional token,
usually unbroken

To apply Like a rhyme
in the fantasy that's broken
— The melody, a symphony
of the other’s unspoken

winnie the poem Oct 12

Meadow

Dear Heart,

she shares art, trades tears,
and gazes at wares.

Do not hurry, for love is near,
weaving threads of warmth
and whispers of the heart.

winnie the poem Oct 12

The Trauma

Beloved Show some Respect
The Words you Always Reject
Swim on the Street in a Show
Be forever alone in the Glow
Friday around The next Corner
At Sunday life feels a Wonder

Forgiven my own Son
In Light Outside my ***
Sleeping Wonder in Tears
For the Whisper of Fear
My Love was never Here
Pink and Blue Disappear

Forever Young I will Be
Time holds The Machine
Growing through Space
Never Shall I find Grace
Lonely and forever Death
Clouds Rain almost Red

Fault on my Own spoken Tale
Darkness Scouts the Evening
The blue Celestial of the Whale
Grace on the Shadows Grieving
Star Shine upon Your Tomorrow
Left alone in the empty Sorrow

Gray seems more than White
Not even close Towards Light
Frozen Death All in The Eyes
Suffering through Your Lies
Void Near the Oceans in Blue
My Pain was Broken in Two

winnie the poem Oct 11

"rose flower"

from me to you, mine.
not just red here. pink red.
rose flower not one, once are two.
were pink-red red redening roses,
roses blush pink her red roses.
again one, two, three
times four longing became.
her cheeks just once, twice his.
pain knew me more,
no one to my sorrow.
no one knows,
also chose not to be like me.
"rose" .... was mine.

winnie the poem Oct 11

Roses

The Rose blush
a gothic grace
in a painted heart
Three, then one,
they bloom anew,
Roses red
and longing too

winnie the poem Oct 11

Taken away

I wake up with only darkness
around me, all this blackness
...No way out and all alone,
I hear a sound in the silence,
so soft that it disappeared.... Disappeared… Disappeared..

So I heard the echo of my voice,
resounding in the sound
of my deepest cry.
What is my name,
what are my desires?
Am I here in an existence,
or am I gone, in hell,
or in heaven underneath the sky.

All these questions, so many,
every day. And I get no answers,
because here in the darkness,
I can’t find another way.