"harmlessly" poems
They first appear
With two clicks of my lamp
I invite the darkness seeping from my windows
Covered in a lazy blanket
I lay on my side, watching the lifeless room
Restless, but all the same exhausted
From the ***** laundry and the memories I keep
One stares harmlessly
My lungs began screaming and wheezing
My heart and brain nearly fried
My muscles frozen in sweat
One easily becomes many
Soon, every corner of my room glares back at me
I press my eyes close and pray for sleep
But their hot breath runs down my neck
And peels my eyelids apart, squeezing my chest
Forcing out a stuttering sigh
I have no choice
Click click
My lamp peirces through each monster
Until I can fight them on my own
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 4:55 AM UTC
Far narwhaled
silly monkey speared
aquatic creature cucumbered
another mammal tonight
On the fishing boat,
they reeled in both bodies
the monkey frozen solid
narwhal flapping harmlessly
They asked the monkey how it happened
his reply was this:
So they took his wide-eyed frozen stare
as for an admission of guilt.
his shock spoke volumes like
a speaker being blown out.
Tonight, the sailors drink moonshine.
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 12:12 AM UTC
Can something really be beautifully tragic?
Is it possible for a being to be gracefully destructive?
How can a life be insignificantly worthwhile?
Does that mean an existence can be grotesquely appealing?
Could you be more radiantly pitiful?
You are stunningly heart-rending.
How are you so delicately harrowing?
You are harmlessly treacherous.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
is it too much to imagine
that a fool like you could
pity a fool like me
they say
birds of a feather
flock together
yet appariently
family is forever too
yet everyone knows
that's not always the truth
because some families
are bound to be broken
along with the hearts
of unwilling and unknowing
children where mommy
no longer likes daddy
and daddy's bedtime stories
stop being told
along with mommy's
new drinking problem
to these children
with the likes of the tooth
fairy and easter bunny
do they realise
that the bogies
in their closets
moved two houses down
and became that man
who preys on young
girls in their skirts
would you pity
that girl
who was attacked
by the bogie man
or do you pity
the father who
wasnt there to stop it
maybe you should pity
the younger brother
who hung himself
after the bogie man
was released
and the mother
who lost herself
in her drink
swirling at the bottom of a glass
thinking that maybe
if she haddent had fallen
for that dark haired
handsome man who
wasn't her husband
would she had been able
to keep that bogie
harmlessly in a closet
to hang with coats
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 7:59 AM UTC
*"Sometimes I want to kiss you and sometimes I want to **** you"*
Your texts run through my mind
Over and
Over and
Over and over and
Over and
stop, please just make the voices stop
"I really like you like a lot like sometimes too much"
***how the hell can you say
something like that*** and then decide
to ignore me barely
Two hours later
I don't understand
I'm sorry
I love you
Come back
I need you
I'm lying
You said you hated me
You were lying
**** you
I can't think straight anymore
And all of this is your fault
But it's partly
my fault, too
Because I knew I was falling
For a disaster waiting to happen
From the moment I met you
But I decided to let myself fall
Anyways
Even though they all told me
What a **** you were
How you would end up hurting me
And I didn't listen
Because there were times
Past midnight when you became so
Vulnerable, almost like you lay
Your guard down and let me in
***I told myself you would never
Fall for a girl like me***
We were just friends
But just friends don't do the things
that we did
They don't hold on tight to each other every time they hug, as if
That hug will be their last
They don't sing to each other
They don't harmlessly tease each other
Hell, they don't even look
at each other
The way that we did
I looked at you
Like you were my everything
And you looked at me
Like I was something precious,
That needed to be protected
If only I could've realized it then
I should've realized that you loved me
From how badly you wanted to help me
From how you cried when I etched punishments into my skin
From how you would casually touch me, whenever you could
You would lazily wrap an arm around me, keeping me close.
you put me through so much hell
I shouldn't be thinking about you
in this way
I shouldn't be thinking about
your body
Or our late night facetimes
Or what your lips would taste like
Pressed against mine
I should hate you right now. So much.
But I can't
I can't.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 5:39 AM UTC
It can't hurt us
Or harm us
To harmlessly flirt
But they see us
And warn us
And harmfully assert
The grass isn't greener
It's grayer
Than dirt
*
You want me
Curiously
I'm bitter to the taste
You make me laugh
Addictively
Addiction here laced
If we were there
If we weren't
Spill of the chase
*
Acting coy
Just acting
For everyone's eyes
Ours lock
And look
Internally decide
What harm
We seek
To whom do we lie?
*
Just friends
Friends playing
With poison in cups
If you drink
The venom
From your veins I will ****
The scars
Won't move
There is no luck
*
Raw fantasy
Fresh meat
My mind wanders mud
Play cheat
Cheat the joker
Roses in bud
Come closer
Look at me
Feel the heat of my blood
*
It can't harm us
Or hurt us
To flirt harmlessly
They'll watch us
So we must
Chase silently
In our heads
It shall stay
That question 'If we...'
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 4:46 PM UTC
she walks at trouble with her Jugular bared
Into fire because she likes the heat,
the way the flames play and flirt
with her fingers and her bones.
lips tilted around a cigarette
drags in the poisonous kiss
of a ***** cloud,
upturning her palms to strangers
to give them her hands and her ways.
That girl is Brave
diving off every cliff
and caressing the rocks
as she floats down
harmlessly to rest
upon the filmy waves.
but when her little soul
becomes golden at the edges
I hope for her that a hand
will catch her balloon string
and guide her back to earth.
Jul 6, 2011
Jul 6, 2011 at 8:13 PM UTC
How can I
Falcon fly
While I die
In a web of lies
Where they brutalize
Us like flies
We must communicate
By connecting
To avoid rumors of hate
That are infecting
The non-inspecting
No problem detecting
Yet happiness expecting
Tyrant electing
Issue deflecting
Fascism respecting
Public that's perplexing
So the Internet should remain harmlessly neutral
Instead of adding to our economic Kama Sutra
Finding new ways to ***** each other
Like restricting access to information
So we won't hear the screams of our brothers
To the rich and powerful's elation
Dealing with this pseudo-fame
Feels like a burdensome shame
In order to listen to people
I have to hear them talk
But I fall into a deep hole
When their ignorance is written in chalk
Easily erased
But also easily traced
Yet not so easily faced
Until we're easily replaced
By the voices of our oppressors
Promising to alleviate the pressure
If we'll take a position that's lesser
And never ask them to be a confesser
Each electorate
Must be kept separate
And must be made desperate
So take away their voices
That should limit their choices
The rich want to be molding the clay
So they say to touch it you'll have to pay
I can't sit here and stand it
This particular predicament
That's beyond my bandwidth
Eating this **** sandwich
Given by a grand witch
So I add the name capitalist
To my ******* list
Which they seem to agree with
They rationalize you have to be an ******* to survive
They explain in business that's the only way to thrive
Yet get upset when I call them the biggest ******** alive
The Internet can do infinite good
Yet it is minimized and misunderstood
The faithless fathom
It as a nameless chasm
Made inside our rage filled cabins
But they refuse to see the connections
The healthy introspection
And historical corrections
They'd rather use deflection
Mentioning mundane memes
Or divisive digital teams
They see the shell
But not the turtle
They put us in hell
With a data girdle
Everybody has the same capability to add to the Internet
So they should have equal capacity to use the Internet
Sometimes our economic systems make us act counterintuitively
To what is fundamentally needed by our species
Something humanity has never had before
A comprehensive brain that can connect and inform us all
We've seen money corrupt the minds of humans
Let's not let it corrupt the mind of humanity
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC
My home
Earth, USA, Poconos, Camp Ramah, Boys Campus, Bunk 12, Third wooden step
There is a hornets nest underneath- harmlessly buzzing,
we are drunk on youth and invincible
Peace draws me back.
Leaning back on the fourth step, the wood digs into my elbows but
I don't care. I'm too content.
In front of me is a sprawling bright green hill of grass
plunging downward with a strip of gravel leading to the lake.
Feeling the aged, warm wood beneath my feet is
cozy. The gazebo is at the apex of the lush hill;
it's falling apart. Cobwebs cover it and the wood is flaking, but
no one said home was perfect.
I tilt my head upward briefly to feel the warmth of the sun and then scan
downward at the square pool surrounded by a romantic chain-link fence.
Past the pool is a run down boathouse.
My first kiss was there. I told her I had a "secret to tell her,” tilted her chin with my hand, and kissed her.
A serene manmade lake sits just below the boathouse.
The deep blue waters
and the bouncing "blob” own my attention.
A picturesque scene… the lake surrounded by a dense forest at the bottom
of a giant, beautiful hill which houses for just a brief period,
some of the best friends I’ve ever had,
is home to me.
It is serenity, it is comfort, it is love.
Home has no definition,
but the third wooden step, bunk 12, boys campus, Camp Ramah, USA, Earth, gazing in the hot summer sun over the most
beautiful piece of land I've ever laid my eyes upon
sure feels like home to me.
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 2:27 PM UTC
If I died tomorrow
I'd not only leave behind notebooks and pens,
Pastels and chalky handprints on walls,
But entire worlds and emotions stronger
Than the winds that make skyscrapers dance.
I'd leave behind scribbled screams and
Sacred secrets blurred together with
Reds and pinks that passionately slur into
Truths that have never been told.
I'd leave behind dragons that exhale purrs of wisdom that can be harmlessly crafted
Into beautiful cat eye shaped diamonds,
Which would decorate the neck of
Each breathing creature.
And children born with a thousand unshrivable
Hearts that beat for every being,
And hold nothing but compassion
That burns smile shaped scars into every mind.
If I died tomorrow,
I wouldn't leave behind anything special,
Just the worlds I'd hope to greet with
Arms held high and a happiness that will
Prance across fields of sunflowers.
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 2:36 AM UTC
The red flower centered
between exotic curled lines
evokes the smell of old Jaipur
the Hawa Mahal ~ Palace of the Winds
where the maharaja’s women once peered
from pink honeycombed windows above streets
overflowing with painted elephants, camels, turbaned men.
A river of color, movement, sound
from red-dust shrouded sunrise
to ember scorch at the horizon line
the desert broken only by the organic rise
of dung and mud-bricked houses sheltered
by one denuded tree, a mirage of shade.
A cobalt hurricane spiral or vine’s end
worn smaller than its origins
its story, the shelf on which it sat
perhaps a fragile immigrant, hand-carried
from the old country by someone’s mother’s mother.
Whole and admired for a century before
its demise, told with regret-laden mouths
mother to daughter, daughter to mother
*Oh, I wish we still had that blue bowl
great grandmother dropped
when she heard about Roy*
a circle of memory, come to rest
on this distant curve of beach.
The cream and blue striped shard
could be my grandmother’s coffee cup
rimmed brown and lipstick stamped
sip, then drag on the Raleigh cigarette
always attached to electric-tipped fingers.
The cup was most likely broken in the war
that raged until death parted my grandparents
maybe it sailed harmlessly past my grandfather’s shiny
head and hit a rock near the creek, exploding into pieces
a small token of their shattered marriage
a lifetime of regrets carried to the sea
grievance-scrubbed, muted by the journey
this sliver must be handled with care.
The largest fragment found
tangled in the eelgrass at my feet
delivered on a tide of need
at the ebb of an unexpected storm
a perfect cross, soft edges raised
on a rough slab of terra cotta.
The fragile sun had warmed
the worn shape nesting
in my palm like a missing piece
as my restless fingers traced
down and across, across and down
asking questions, seeking answers.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 11:02 AM UTC
the post-mortem will say:
sudden cardiac arrest
(medicine cannot quantify
death by a broken heart).
i thought it was sweet,
the arrhythmia you gave me
(at least the butterflies
dissolved harmlessly in acid).
you knew me, invasively,
a mortician's secret autopsy
(you counting my scars, ribs,
was it more habit than desire?)
curiosity is what killed me;
mine and yours, ill-matched
(i would have preferred cruelty
to your cool detachment).
the post-mortem has found:
i died of natural causes
(which makes you, my heart-
breaker, a force of nature)
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 7:15 AM UTC
Piece by piece, a broken heart shatters,
collapsing on itself, splitting apart;
Though there is no time to waste mourning.
Piece by piece, it separates,
giving itself away, to others;
Just to fill the holes in theirs.
Now just a chip, a fragment remains,
owner curled up around it for warmth,
hanging on by a single vein.
Nothing is left to give away,
without throwing away a lifeline;
Nothing can be harmlessly lost,
until people start returning what they borrowed.
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 3:03 AM UTC
I tear out my heart and I place it eloquently on the page.
Piece by piece, I break it down like the history channel in a documentary on the golden age.
The chunks of raw emotion show up in the form of black and blue rage.
You can’t see it through the thin sheet of paper, but you can feel it if you’re careful.
How hard is it to see how someone is feeling when its far more than just a handful.
Every feeling that they’ve had in their winding past is strewn across the page
Like blood splatter on wall left after getting popped with a 12 gauge.
Organized by line and by stanza, yet you’re blind to it all.
You’re incapable of seeing how it looks when I fall.
Yet you still remain beautiful in my eyes and that’s a miracle in itself.
The only trust I have in this world lies in my family and this pen, while you’re placed harmlessly in a frame on the left side of the shelf
As I write I feel the grip on the pen getting tight
like the damp air setting in with the darkness of night.
It is but another image that I scribble across the page,
an outlet for the increasing, on-setting rage.
The words on the page don’t get demoralized once they’re written.
They’re permanent, so stands my love for you, though six times forgiven.
I don’t know why and I don’t know how but your love is what I want and I need it now.
I can forever write these lines and build images that will remain
until I either die or they are destroyed in vein.
But my words they will forever be and scrambled within this page you can find the characteristics that are built like cement inside of me.
No matter the situation, I’ll still have the same smile or grin,
no matter what mood I am actually in.
Because the world, on the surface,
is better off when I walk along its pathways with purpose.
I feel that if I don’t I will crumble.
The point of this script is that this pen will not stop or stumble
until I run of ink and dispose of it. Use it I will and I plan to make the most of it.
It’s a joke to continue the love I thought was real,
walking together behind an impenetrable shield.
But now you’ve gotten up and left,
this pen I write with is all I’ve got left
so if you want me in the future, grab a surgeon and sutures.
Pick up all the pieces off the ground and off this page and especially my heart.
Sew them back into my body, You better be sorry, cause I’m sending you back to Start.
Sep 27, 2011
Sep 27, 2011 at 10:34 AM UTC
Here I sit, completely alone,
No company, except for the thoughts in my head.
Those unassuring feelings wash over me,
Like an immense wave of the ocean,
Inviting me in harmlessly - or so i thought.
The massive wave swallows me...
... Then CRASH the wave slams against the sand.
There I go - turning, flipping, rolling and spinning - out of control.
I can not control my mind.
It flips, it turns, it rolls, it spins,
It is out of control,
As I crash upon the sandy shore.
Even though I am trapped,
I do not stop, I can not stop.
As the thoughts go deeper into my soul -
The crash hits harder
Here I sit, completely alone,
No company except for those thoughts in my head.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 8:51 PM UTC
I stood gazing.
Light shed behind a wooden cross
overlooking your kingdom.
Overlooking your river steady and true
flowing to your sea.
From a distance it seemed to be moving
with the life and morning life of you.
I moved, drawn closer to the life,
at peace, but my heart quickened.
Your cross grew larger and leaped faster,
not away, but towards me.
Now I saw a new color of the day,
the color crimson. Alive on your cross.
Crimson lept away and towards me in time and space it seemed.
When I opened and focused my eyes fully,
I gazed on a miracle of your making.
A harmless, simply beautiful, creation.
Hundreds of pure crimson ladies, your blood shed for me,
danced in hope and joy around on your sacrifice.
The cross you bore for me.
After my wide eyes settled I sat quietly, serenely.
I felt your cool morning dew laying on your jade toned grass.
I sat near enough to soak in your beauty fully,
Just enough to feel hope landing on my arms, harmlessly.
Hope then crawled and spread a joyful smile on my resting lips.
Only enough to absorb grace and all that there was, then.
I sat and looked up, using gifts given , bent my neck to spine.
I sat and saw the wonder you showed me.
I sat and heard your voice whispering through my hair.
I sat and breathed in your breath fully.
I sat and believed in you, still I sat alone with you.
Time unknown went by and then there were more of us.
We sat together no words spoken.
We sat together in weary morning amazement.
We sat together with our hands folded , spirits entwined with yours.
We sat together and the eyes you blessed us with soaked in wings of pure joy.
We sat together and believed in you.
Crimson ladies danced to sow in us peace, love, serenity, creation, quiet,
joy, connection, beauty, light, sound, feeling and it all meant love.
The cross of your creation, dancing with life.
The sacrifice you made.
Made for us, made for you and me.
We are grateful for all and your crimson ladies.
2008....about my first experience with the Father, Son and The Holy Spirit, which happened in 2002. I lost the memory and my way for a a while and the experience found me later and brought me back to Him in some ways.
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 2:42 PM UTC
I Dreamed of Peace
I dreamed of peace
where games cannot touch my saddened heart;
where the winters spray of discontent cannot
make my blood cold, cannot make my marrow
ache and my inner force limp wounded to the gray
and weeping bank.
I dreamed of peace
where fire words shot to take me down
miss their target and fall harmlessly in joyous fields
of ripened corn, standing strong, smiling, repelling
all the pointed barbs; whose yellow husks cannot be pierced
but in reflecting provide a nourishment so replete
the archers arm is wearied by the load.
I dreamed of peace
where no longer do I wake at night
seeking reassurance from apparitions that their calling
means no harm;
where the raven sitting on the drooping branch
is not waiting for my soul’s ascent;
where the soot covered face peering from the bracken
is not the axe man arrived to take me home.
I dreamed of peace
where the fire in my brain is quelled
by knowledge, accomplished thoughts of reason and
not prone to dissatisfaction;
where thirst is quenched in rivers so deep
my dive can never touch or scrape the sides and
in whose fear I need not fear;
where my essence is left untouched , my spirit not assaulted
by ego and forced appraisal.
I dreamed of peace
where false disinterest lies split and gaping
and hypocrisy oozes its puerile bile across cracked and
concrete stagnant floors;
where beggars no longer assault my passing
with arms outstretched and hope etched into canyon
city faces;
where the malcontent is driven to the slackened shallows
and forced to face their own reflection.
I dreamed of peace
where lightening skipped and danced across the waves
and thunder played the most delicate of notes;
where wind swirled not in anger but caressed
the sparse sand dune grass and the stilt legged
petrel bobbed in anticipation;
where the fuss of self induced stress is placed inside the trench
and covered by the dirt of self awareness.
I dreamed of peace
where only peace may step and no intrusion
may be entered;
where neither the able nor the vacuous may encroach;
where neither the sun drenched and rich may acquire that which
others have stooped to learn;
where the essence of time is encased and made bare
and does not beat to a false clock;
where all I have been and all I am to be is in the one,
and there is no need to climb a further set of stairs.
I dreamed of peace.
May 12, 2012
May 12, 2012 at 12:20 AM UTC
i. once upon a time, there were old gods and new gods. under crumbling archways the divine and the cursed share cigarettes, lighters cupped in their hands. rain pours relentlessly from the heavens, falling to the uneven cobblestone in a sheen of silver spears and smoke. this time, nothing but prayers are shed.
ii. this is their communion: an errant hand brushes against the marbled form of Hades, rowboats rock harmlessly to the temple of Asclepius, feet shuffle across the white line and into the holy land. it is in these moments that solitude begets peace.
iii. angels tuck in their tired wings, roosting on bridges and cathedrals and alleyway corners spun with ivy. amongst themselves they count the crowds that take shelter in their shadows. every day, the numbers swell until even the loneliest of the celestial feel a warmth in their gilded chests.
iv. these same seneschals pour life through golden urns, as they had done eons before the she-wolf who nursed the founders of Roma was ever born. water flows steadily from all four rivers and through the eagle-face spics that dot the roads, blessed by frail, rosary-stained hands. even the Tiber, full of harsh currents and deep embankments, softens under the touch of a child at a fountain. life flourishes. the gods smile.
v. once upon a time, i met these cursed and divine and celestial beings. all lived together in a city as old as time itself, in a city born from clay, then wrought with brick, and finished in marble. and in this place of impossibilities, i found my heart.
.
.
i found my home
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 9:09 PM UTC
Scraggly,
In face and heart
Staggering
By the harbor,
A celebratory place
For families to flock
And sight-see the city
By the ships and the docks.
While the sea gulls fight
Over scrimpy scraps,
A lone man traverses,
Seized by mind traps.
Disoriented by the shadows
Of his past,
Taunting and tampering
With his freedom, at last,
He's broken his vow of silence
He promised he could pass.
Reality so far removed
From his ruminations.
Passerby's passively wonder
What attracted him to the concrete.
Overactive imagination
Is an answer I'd repeat.
Occasionally another may marvel,
Where is his family?
Waiting in vain,
In the background,
In the rain,
Devoid of way to entertain
The possibility to take the reigns
Away from his deceptive beast
That guides his woeful way,
Fighting for fistfuls of his feast -
A price he has to pay
For having an untreated illness.
Now I have no say
In pillows or cement.
He chose the latter.
Now all I can do is feel lament.
If you see my father,
You may see kindness in his eyes,
A mind that's rapidly firing,
Comforting words to himself he's ironing.
If you see my father -
You may see him time and again,
You may see him in the sea gull,
Harmlessly scavenging,
Heartily conversing,
Heartbreakingly existing -
If you see my father,
Let him exist
However he chooses.
I have no choice
But to do the same.
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 11:18 PM UTC
I did something I haven't done in forever today
It was so simple that I can't believe it hasn't occurred to me before
I went and lay down in the garden, on the grass
under the sky and beneath the wreath of tree's
I know- I'm proud of me too
It made a lot of sense in my head
mainly because for the first time ever I managed
to clear my thoughts
have you ever tried?
I turned it all off for a split second of naturalistic bliss
and it was like a reboot and revival
of all the conundrums I have been trying to figure out for so long
it was like a little sprinkle of clarity over my day
I lay there and felt my own body, twitching on the itchy grass
I felt the wind blowing harmlessly on my skin
and I felt the goosebumps rise
it all felt so good
I put my hands up, and stretched out
appreciating my size
I placed my hands on my hips and delighted in feeling
my bones beneath my skin
I delighted in squeezing my own fleshy thighs and knowing they were mine
I pulled my legs up and set them down
just to know how I move
it was more powerful than a reflection in a mirror, because I really
knew, and felt myself for the first time in a long time
I have grown out of touch but I want to be back so badly
I wondered with new found clarity, and not a single fear of
judgement of sensibility
I felt connected to something much bigger than me
bigger than you, and even bigger than the sky
I can't describe what it was,
but it seemed to love easily and forgive quickly
it had a serenity that I haven't know before
and a wisdom beyond all the years of time
I have very suddenly found ...what?
This God, Goddess, Deity?
an agnostic power, force of nature?
Maybe it's just the liveliness of outside
I don't know but I don't think anybody could put a name on it
I can't even begin to explore it's entirety
so with all that said and done
I think I had better go back tomorrow
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 6:10 AM UTC
Well, it all started harmlessly enough
We were just two kids with nothing better to do
And we never would have been together otherwise
But you were there, and so was I
At first it was like a bad movie
Or one of those ****** teen melodramas
But in between the alcohol and "hush hush" ***
And seeing other people
We saw something in each other that we wanted
That second-first-kiss was when it all started to go down hill
When your breath didn't smell like beer
And your lips were warm and soft
And your arms wrapped around me in the cold, happy to have an excuse
I felt that kiss for days
I can still see your eyes shining down at me
That was the moment we knew we were onto something
A couple weeks later was when it really went bad
You told me you had to leave and I actually cried
You held me and made me promise I'd hold on
You wiped my tears for the first time
And I knew I'd hold on
Those were the months we fell in love
When I reached the west coast, it became hopeless
You let me into a part of your world that was sacred
When we stayed up watching movies
And fell asleep in each others' arms
And you introduced me to all of your closest friends
You expanded my world
That was when we knew there was no going back
But it was when we came back home that it truly fell apart
With reality to face, we used each other to escape
And we got jobs and signed up for classes
And you taught me the difference between ******* and making love
And we were happy
That was when I knew I'd never want anyone else
Unfortunately, that was when you realized you wanted anyone else
Nov 19, 2010
Nov 19, 2010 at 4:05 PM UTC
together we sit and scan through pages
searching for knowledge of savants and sages
apart by wires and spaces deemed cyber
together in some places besotted by desires
for that which you seek and that which you share
your hasty interests may lead you to stare
into the abyss of the nets' unending
the maelstroms vortex you'll soon be winding
going ye here and going ye there
hopeful your meanderings
shall leave you fair
for within some sites there's the inveigle snare
ultimately constructed to leave you bare
go wittingly into the all- electric fray
some sensitive toes you'll invariably belay
don't fret over words harmlessly mislaid
to err is only human, short-circuits allayed
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 9:39 PM UTC
Earth, USA, Poconos, Camp Ramah, Boys Campus, Bunk 12, Third wooden step/
a hornets nest underneath- harmlessly buzzing,/
we are invincible/
peace draws
me back./
Leaning back on the fourth step, the wood digs into my elbows but/
I'm too content/
a sprawling bright green hill of grass/
plunges downward with a strip of gravel leading to the lake./
Feeling the aged, warm wood beneath my feet is/
cozy/
A gazebo is at the apex of the lush hill/
falling apart with cobwebs and flaking wood/
no one said home was perfect.
I tilt my head upward briefly to feel the warmth of the sun/
downward a square pool surrounded by a romantic chain-link fence./
a run down boathouse./
My first kiss./
I had a "secret to tell her."
A serene manmade lake sits just below the boathouse./
deep blue waters/
and the "blob” capture my attention.
The picturesque scene… the lake surrounded by a dense forest at the bottom/
the giant beautiful hill which houses for just a brief period,/
some of the best friends I’ve ever had/
is home to me./
It is serenity, it is comfort, it is love.
Home has no definition,/
but the third wooden step, bunk 12, boys campus, Camp Ramah, USA, Earth,/
gazing in the hot summer sun/
over the most beautiful piece of land/
I've ever laid eyes upon/
sure feels like home to me.
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC