"amist" poems
When the eagle
And hawk
Fly as one
The legend
Of a warrior
Will come alive
He meets with his comrades
Amist the bonfire
He spoke
Of myths and legends
Warriors
Riding across the sky
Hunting buffalo
As they once had done
Across the grassy plains
War cries fill the air
As they chased down
Their meal
Praying to the great spirit
With each ****
As a way of giving thanks.
The fire flickered
Among their copper skin
As images danced
On the walls
He saw visions
Many things
That had passed
Or going to pass.
He had a wife
He had a son
He also lost both
To war or sickness.
He called forth
Many of us by name
As he made his way
To the sacred cave
His final vision quest
Led him deep within
There he drew
His final breath
Not before he prayed
To the great spirit
To guide him home
And to protect his decendants.
So now
Whenever I see
An eagle in the sky
And hear a hawks cry
I know he is watching
And waiting
The painted warrior
Now in the sky.
Aug 9, 2012
Aug 9, 2012 at 12:46 AM UTC
what did we do?
where did we go wrong?
god, why did you let me throw it all away?
why didn't you stop me before it was too late?
why didn't i realize i was a fool before i lost the one thing that actually mattered? why didn't i stop and try to figure out how to love myself before trying to love someone else? why didn't i stop in the midst of the passion to ask myself what kind of person i was? why didn't i realize what this was doing to her before it was too late?
but she's gone now and i've lost the one thing that can't be bought. i've lost the one thing that can't be sold, that can't be found in the supermarket.
i've lost my spirit. she has it now and i'm not sure i want it back. because a spirit lost is a spirit changed and skewed and i'm scared to look at my naked spirit again. i'm scared of what i'll find, missing and scattered, tattered and torn amist this jar of hearts.
i've caught a cold from the ice inside my spirit and she's gone. she doesn't want me anymore. she doesn't even want my spirit but she doesn't have a choice, does she? once heartbroken, always heartbroken and the one who broke a spirit can't fix it, or so the story goes.
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 2:52 PM UTC
Never ceases
Hardly rests
I swallow blood
Glides through my neck
Blurry shaking
Amist black fits
Rips, twists, hits, kiss
****
Are you sure you want this?
Swollen, inflamed seas we call my eyes
And permanent frown lines
Obsession is an understatement
A suffocating, seductive idea
Grows to mania
Oh that mania
At least it's all mine
Romanticize trauma
I adore that folding, shrinking pain
Takes from my core, birthed from my core
Come accompany this misery, please
Your silent thoughts ****** me
*Torment me
Torment me*
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 10:24 AM UTC
clad in a grey native **** cloth
he sat,quivering on a stool
with a aged breast on furrows breath,
that shook the folds of his shoulders
Now and then does he seems to gasp
about a menlancholys spit,
but amis his grey eye lashes
it pierce through what words cannot paint
He folds his feet and *** his head
like a lizard amist a bait,
but his vague stare hold a mist
which mystries cant be shook from him
What ails him so, the world wont ask,
but lost to what all eyes cant see
it lingers through the heart of man
that trode the earth with guns and roses
He breath in and expires in lort,
his thought search for truth in his heart,
he bow his head and close his eye
and found no peace,even as he sleeps
All rights reserved
Jun 1, 2012
Jun 1, 2012 at 12:54 PM UTC
Landing back at the Cleveland airport I made my way that afternoon to the airport bar for my ritualistic landing drink.I was in no hurry because I never checked bags and I was generally never in a rush.As I watched the olives dance to the bottom of the glass and slowly make their way back to the top amist all the tiny bubbles they created I was reminded of a couple of facts that were to serve me well in the coming days.The first was very simple,if someone invites you to do somthing proclaiming it to be a blast,it never is.And secondly if I witnessed a ****** and in explaining that ****** to a group of ten people stratigically placing the word **** in there several times at least half of the group would be more offended by the word **** than the actual ****** itself.That being said,at any given moment we are surrounded by people that are focused on the wrong things.
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 12:12 AM UTC
Cri Per sooth a lbay Goyle
way hem- raging letter
(p)Frozen shell, thaw sleeting
Pulsing necks harelm glow-in
after math of the shadowy fight
her's filling glaint, gladly save
entice weary charter banner
pilling sooth sabre
Immerseyourself, freeself lead soul
not that of a barron but soon
something/ ethers awept & taken
back from ground
back from reprose
back from amist
Groomed tooken & Vol = best
my friends & love
i am awept
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 10:16 PM UTC
The heart is sore
but singing...
and in its song
hope breathes
a stubborn will
like weeping willows
bending but not breaking
It beats on...
Against the light of the sun
The glow of the moon
from the soft of the dirt
amist the filth of the earth
I burst through
Through concrete walls,
of aching scars
unable to to stop this beating heart
I break through it all
I remove the weeds
I make room
For all the beautiful
flowers
that have yet to bloom
Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 8:13 PM UTC
You showed me yours
a week ago.
It was on my mind
since then.
I hadn't in a year
"I won't get caught"
I think.
So out comes
those tools
the inconspicuous ones.
Silently I rub it,
play with it.
Now it's on my leg
amist the light browns
There is a shimmering red.
I'm smiling
yet there is a tear.
Now I feel it
how I made you feel
how it feels to feel.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 10:06 PM UTC