"convivially" poems
Into the goblet of life did I poor myself, convivially jaunting; jumping for the juniper as if jolted into life for the first time by the cosmic current that sublimely filtered reality from the dream that had become my truth.
I, beheld to the newly found perceptions, careening through the trees, trampling upon crisp leaves, on my way to scenic experiences, was ever looking forward to the hopeful thrill and living in anticipation of the next climactic excitement.
I would be unable to be complemented by the moment, in which I did not truly live.
The adventure became a tragedy,
As is always with the changing of innocence into untoward regret.
Tears were novelties that were bartered for kindness, traded for the rhyme, but never the shine.
Illumination is priceless.
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 6:57 PM UTC
I write for reality
Whether in intense thought
Or faint mindedness
To comb the brains delicately
Of those I relate to in this world
And of those whom I don't
I do it for the love of it
My soul resignates with life
Hence the name "Poetic Soul"
My alias of divinity
Dubbed to me by nature
Of my mind and moving pen
Which gracefully dances on paper
Gloriously and convivially.
I write to inspire
To enrich my touch
My floating halo
Upon my readers
Within the minds that feel
My every thought
My words waft, they skim
Coasting in the hearts
Of my earthly kinsmen
Just as the words and thoughts
Of my fellow poets
Inspire and encourage me
More strongly and deeply
Than they'll ever realize.
I write for the ease
My seraphic oneness
The ever so calmness
The animation and binding
Of my mind
My force field
My genuine escape
Into my peaceful planet
Whence I flutter freely
As a celestial poetic being
To find solemness
Where I am dominant
Where I find comfort
I emphasize to myself
And further bestow
My many words
To sprout and levitate
As a supernal
To reign as a writer
A born poet
With a soothing soul
For my era and existence
Forever and beyond.
©Michael P. Smith
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 1:52 AM UTC
When I met you in the pub that night,
The movement and the way you sauntered over,
It was so clearly pre-defined.
The way that you held your hand out,
The over the top air kiss,
Too effortlessly refined.
Later into the night the drugs imbibed,
Drinks convivially consumed,
The space between us lost.
Time disappears down,
Some rabbit hole,
At some unsaid noir mutual cost.
The pint shoved with jovial force,
From the slick wet bar,
Into my waiting hand.
The coked-up person,
Backing me into a corner,
Reassuring me that they totally understand.
And whilst my malnourished ribs,
Are digging uncomfortably,
Into your hard ***** floor.
There are things that I would,
Say to you,
If bravery mistook me for more.
You consume me with,
Your entire world,
Whilst mine just ebbs away.
My voice gets quiet,
And agreeable,
I forget that I had anything worthwhile to say.
This world takes the very guts of me,
With every wrap of drugs that I see.
And that girl slipping away in the mirror,
Is becoming so very different from me.
With every drink fuelled choice,
Each line of drugs,
Each night that I see reappear as day.
The feeling submerges,
From the depth of me,
That this life is not ok.
Whilst I can try and lay the blame,
Of my gradual downfall,
At the feet of some charismatic few.
It’s some personal emancipation,
That will allow me to start my again life,
With a sanguine view.
As I disappear down the rabbit hole,
For what I tell myself,
Is one last epic fall.
I hope that the person,
Who appears on the other side,
Is strong enough to walk away and leave it all.
Oct 13, 2017
Oct 13, 2017 at 9:19 AM UTC
Walk up to a girl
Wherever you're at
Whether it's a club or a flat
Approach her convivially
Don't state any word trivially
Ask if she's the middle of the month
Because she's a ten out of ten
Tell her you dislike the rating system
Later on.
Smoothness is key
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 7:25 PM UTC