"messenger" poems
Millennial is what called in this generation,
Everywhere here and there,
There are always youths who really never care,
And never been worried about their future.
In Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and Messenger,
Are consists of follower, liker, reader and including seener,
Loitering and using fake accounts just to gain a wholesome money,
Even though that it is notorious, they still embark their blunt journey.
Most millennials are undisputedly addicted to social media,
Their lives depends on likes they are going to gain,
They don't care if their faces might be inside of multi-media,
And they don't even care if it will give them a pain.
Some truly go beyond their limits just to have a lot of likes,
Perhaps they are fame ***** but they don't care if someone strikes,
Strikes every part of their body including their faces and such,
Yet they don't care if it will hurt them too much.
However, seeking attention in the cyber world isn't a good thing,
Instead they should focus on things that are essentially free like a king,
Because in this generation, too many people are unaware and careless,
And some they didn't even notice that our environment is already full of fraud either hypocrite and genuine people are less.
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 4:50 AM UTC
Three Minute Warning
A messenger delivers
A three minute warning
As I lay in bed at 10:30 am
(Resting in preparation for,
not from, our oops, early morning hike).
Breakfast will be ready in 3,
Get your **** in gear or else
It will be cold, I'll be mad,
And you will answer to a
Higher Authority.
No problem cause I already know
All I need is two.
Splash water on my face
Now I'm presentable
enough to the human race,
current company probably won't be happy,
But I ain't telling her, are you?
Shave! You crazed?
It is a three day weekend,
Every day a July Fourth,
Celebrating freedom from the European tyranny,
Of shaving smooth every day!
Splash water on my head, count with me,
Five brush strokes as you can plainly see
Is a classic case of overcompensating
In my geling n' hair stylin'
Brush my teeth, well,
I hope 2 full minutes of rinsing with CVS
Green stuff, mouthwash, will have to suffice.
Blast my deodorant both sides,
Long and strong, wearin' now
My bold blue *** husk of musk,
Cause I am a very considerate fellow
Who happens to really have stunk.
Clean T- shirt and shorts,
Yes, clean underwear too,
Leaves me a whole minute to write this scribble.
My flip flop noises coming down the hallway,
Are the butler announcing our joint arrival,
Me and my poem.
Lest you think this is paean to men
Another grand male boast,
Be advised this ditty be writty
By a man who, while no longer gritty,
Just put jelly on his scrambled eggs
And ketchup on his toast!
Mmmmmmm there might be a poem
Lurking in that too...
May 27, 2013
May 27, 2013 at 11:50 AM UTC
Your life is made of distant springs and falls,
a straight route is not
what you own
for hurricanes and storms divert your path
to new horizons.
Will you find horseshoe ***** mussels, clams
on the stopovers?
Food awaits you
if the shores are not ravaged
by human greed, ignorance.
Your resilience is written in B95's ordeals,
a mosaic of adventures ingrained in his own cells.
The threads of your trips assemble
the places of Mother Earth connected in its roles;
nothing is detached in the collective harmony of souls.
Red knot shorebird,
peaceful messenger,
icon of strength without rage,
your story is the universal flight of awareness
waiting to be heard.
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 3:28 PM UTC
Time for some originality methinks
this copy paste world of ours, well it stinks
sincerity became a thing of the past
as people got lazy and obsessed with fast
No time for honesty bout the way that you feel
originality gone at the turn of a wheel
a right click here and a left click there
and we use others words to show that we care
Well enough of being lazy and thoughtless I say
Lets go back and do things the old fashioned way
Where you said what you meant
and you meant what you said
And took time to write words
you knew would be read
Its hard to wrap emails in ribbons and bows
As for Facebook and messenger
who knows where that goes
So give me some paper and a pen every time
And I will sit down and think,
and then write you a line
My words may make you smile
and they may make you weep
But I choose them with care
to build something you'll keep.
Apr 22, 2010
Apr 22, 2010 at 6:38 PM UTC
I’m no author, novelist or poet.
I’m just Me,
And don’t I know it.
I don’t need to be classified,
As long as I’m writing, I’m satisfied.
Typing out words, line by line,
I don’t care if they don’t rhyme.
I don’t care if my verses don’t scan:
I’m not always an Iambic Man.
I just say what I gotta say,
I’m not worried about any pay.
Words come to me without much bidding,
The world of its evils I hope to be ridding.
I love to spread lots and lots of Love,
Bringing peace to all like a messenger dove.
Things of beauty bring joy, John Keats rightly said,
To make us sleep easy when we go to bed.
So I’ll paint what I paint,
And sing what I sing,
Just letting those words
Do their magical thing.
Paul Butters
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 4:54 AM UTC
Tinanong ako ni Annah
Kung maayos na tayo
Ang sabi ko
Ayon, normal naman.
Normal
Kelan pa tayo nauwi sa normal nalang?
Ah. Naaalala ko na.
Nagsimula tayong maging normal
Nang isang araw hindi mo ko matingnan sa mata
Ni hindi mo ko makausap kung hindi ka titingin sa baba
At kapag naman kailangang ikaw
Ang unang magsisimula ng usapan
Dinaig pa ng kapal ng usok sa kalakhang Maynila
Ang nakaiilang na atmospera
Sa pagitan nating dalawa.
Nagsimula tayong maging normal
Nang hindi na tayo nagsasabay umuwi sa hapon
Nang simulan **** isipin na ayos lang na umuwi nang walang paalam
May kasabay ka kasing iba.
Nagsimula tayong maging normal
Nang nahihirapan na kong
Magsimula ng usapan sa pagitan nating dalawa
Sa kung paanong sinasalamin ng Messenger sa pamamagitan ng ellipses
Ang mga katagang nais ko sayang itanong sa iyo
Ay sandali, online naman si Annah, siya nalang ang tatanungin ko
(Pwede kaya kong sumabay sa kanya?)
Wag na nga. Alam ko naman ang patungo doon.
Nagsimula tayong maging normal
Nang tanungin mo ang kagrupo natin sa kung ano ang gagawin
Gayong ako na kagrupo mo rin ang nasa iyong harapan
Pumunta ka pa talaga sa kanya
Ganyan ka kailang?
Normal naman sa atin ang hindi mag-usap nang madalas, hindi ba?
Normal lang naman kung makakalimutan **** may katulad ko
Na bukas palad na tinanggap ka
Noong mga panahong durog na durog ka na, hindi ba?
At bahagi din ng pagiging normal natin
Kung mas pipiliin **** burahin nalang ang mga nakaraan natin, hindi ba?
Nilalamon ka ng kalungkutan. Nasasaktan.
At isa akong napawalang kwentang kaibigan
Kasi hindi kita napatahan
Sa mga panahong tahimik **** isinisigaw
Ang mga bagay na sa tingin mo ay walang makauunawa
Wala akong karapatang masaktan
Kasi hindi ako naglakas-loob na tanungin
Kung anu-ano ang mga bumabagabag sayo
Hindi ko dapat indahin ang sakit ng pang-iiwan mo sa akin
Gayong para na rin kitang iniwan
Nang hayaan kitang unti-unting kumalas sa pagkakaibigan natin
Wala akong karapatang manumbat
Kasi hindi ko man lang sinubukang tanungin
Kung ano nang nangyayari sa iyo
Kaya mo pa ba?
At hinding hindi ko rin aangkinin
Ang karapatang sa una'y wala na sa akin
Na maging sandalan mo
Sapagkat hindi ko man lang nasabi
Na ayos lang na ikaw ay humugot ng lakas sa akin
Ayaw mo, oo
Kasi sa tingin mo pabigat
Ayaw mo, oo
Kasi sanay ka na sa demonyong kalungkutan
Na paulit-ulit lumalamon sayo
Minsan nawawala, ngunit laging bumabalik
Pagbalik-baliktarin ko man ang sitwasyon
Hindi lang ikaw ang nang-iwan
Iniwan din kita
Iniwan kita
Patawad
Patawad
Pakiusap, patawarin mo ko.
Madaling makalimutan ang mga magagandang bagay
Ngunit mahirap iwaksi mula sa makulit na isipan
Ang idinadaing ng pusong nasugatan at patuloy na nahihirapan
Kaya bilang pakunswelo sa tulad kong nagmahal sayo
Iniisip ko na lamang na isa ako sa mga magagandang bagay sa buhay mo
Kaya madali mo 'kong nakalimutan.
Huli kong bulong sa sarili
'Ayos lang 'yan. Makakausad ka rin. Magtiwala ka.'
Uusad at uusad ka rin.
Kaibigan, patawad ulit.
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 1:56 AM UTC
Mahal Kita
Mine angel;
Mahal Kita
Mine soulmate;
Mahal Kita
Mine cherub;
Mahal Kita
Mine grace;
Mahal Kita
Mine reyna;
Mahal Kita
Mine queen;
Mahal Kita
Mine life;
Mahal Kita
Sweet Jane;
Nami-miss kita
Mine seraphim;
Nami-miss kita
mine heaven's song;
Nami-miss kita
Messenger of God;
Nami-miss kita
Mine all;
MAHAL KITA MAGPAKAILANMAN
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedication-Filipino rose
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 9:01 PM UTC
i.
Salamat, I was abjected now uplifted
Salamat, for the gift of life thou hath gifted;
Salamat, for the lung's thou hath given
Salamat, now I'm free, not a slave, I'm living.
ii.
Salamat, for thy smile in the dark
Salamat, thy beauty is God's spark;
Salamat, once moribund, now shining
Salamat, I'm moving forward, not rewinding.
iii.
Salamat, day's ahead art full of grace
Salamat, queen of Yahweh, messenger to the human race;
Salamat, forever we wilt be
Salamat, empress of Asia, mine Reyna, mine sweet.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication-filipino rose
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 9:23 AM UTC
We haven't talked in awhile
Your voice like silk
Bringing a smile with it
Something I haven't done for months
I talk to you on Twitter
The bird a messenger to our secret conversation
Every time a white message box pops up
Every time I get a notification from you
My heart skips a beat
For every word you write, every sentence
Is worth the couple seconds it takes to read
We have a lot in common
We both have eating disorders
That couldn't be more different
We love the same music
As we rock out on Facetime
And laugh at my shyness and stupidity
Yet without social media
We would have never met.
I would never have smiled.
I would never have lived.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 2:39 PM UTC
The thing, he said, would come in the night at three
From the old churchyard on the hill below;
But crouching by an oak fire's wholesome glow,
I tried to tell myself it could not be.
Surely, I mused, it was pleasantry
Devised by one who did not truly know
The Elder Sign, bequeathed from long ago,
That sets the fumbling forms of darkness free.
He had not meant it - no - but still I lit
Another lamp as starry Leo climbed
Out of the Seekonk, and a steeple chimed
Three - and the firelight faded, bit by bit.
Then at the door that cautious rattling came -
And the mad truth devoured me like a flame!
10.4k
*happy days are here
now go **** the messenger
'cause the beat's too much*
Aug 4, 2011
Aug 4, 2011 at 10:18 AM UTC
‘We live with forest’ and ‘forest live with us’!
Tallest tree of the forest is the symbol of our hope,
The Python is our messenger of past,
Blossoming flower of grassland are our depiction of smile,
Birds are the our fortune teller,
Earthworms are our marker,
Butterflies are our messenger of worship,
We design our life with them,
They are our image of clan and family,
We can’t live without them,
Our aspiration is tuned with their respiration,
We are cheerful with them!
***
Now, out of the blue, you arrived
and say we are poor!
So, you will build industry for us and give job to us!
But for that,
You occupy our land, our forest, our friends and respiration,
We never thought!
‘You are such a pitiable’
That you can’t build anything without our forest,
But you say, ‘we are poor’!
****
Please, go away from our blessed place
Don’t wipe out our friend!
We are rich and happy with the blessing of our friend
There is no need of your industry,
Please go away
Leave us alone we will design our destination.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC
There is a gentle thought that often springs
to life in me, because it speaks of you.
Its reasoning about love’s so sweet and true,
the heart is conquered, and accepts these things.
‘Who is this’ the mind enquires of the heart,
‘who comes here to ****** our intellect?
Is his power so great we must reject
every other intellectual art?
The heart replies ‘O, meditative mind
this is love’s messenger and newly sent
to bring me all Love’s words and desires.
His life, and all the strength that he can find,
from her sweet eyes are mercifully lent,
who feels compassion for our inner fires.’
9.6k
I bow down my head
straight into the pillow.
I whine a funny sound
and wonder about duty.
Life seems to be all
and all seems to be
nothing but disappointment.
Anointed to be dead
from the first time I was alive.
I strive to show hope,
to be a silent messenger,
but duty seems to hold me back.
The great deep red within
always wants to fight back.
Smack the wrong until it's right,
snack on the souls so easily broken
by a single word that refutes their madness,
while my face turns to a smile.
Walking a mile in my shoes
is being hungry for relief.
Starving for sanity shows my vanity.
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 12:23 PM UTC
"Every man gotta right to decide his own destiny."
-Bob Marley
"Facts on facts, and things on things: that's alot of fuckin' ******** Hear me! there is no truth but the one truth, an' that is the truth of Jah Rastafarian."
-Bob Marley
"I don't stand for the black man's side, I don' t stand for the white man's side. I stand for God's side."
-Bob Marley
"in the abundance of water, the fool is thirsty."
-Bob Marley
"the harder the battle the sweet of jah victory."
-Bob Marley
"open your eyes & look within, are you satisfied with the life you´reliving."
-Bob Marley
"in this great future you can't forget your past."
-Bob Marley
"If you get down and quarrel everyday, you're saying prayers to the devil, I say."
-Bob Marley
"Just can't live that negative way...make way for the positive day!"
-Bob Marley
"Life and Jah are one in the same. Jah is the gift of existence. I am in some way eternal, I will never be
duplicated. The singularity of every man and woman is Jah's gift. What we struggle to make of it is our sole gift to Jah. The process of what that struggle becomes, in time, the Truth."
-Bob Marley
"Life is one big road with lots of signs. So when you riding through the ruts, don't complicate your mind. Flee from hate, mischief and jealousy. Don't bury your thoughts, put your vision to reality . Wake Up and Live!"
-Bob Marley
"People want to listen to a message, word from Jah. This could be passed through me or anybody. I am not a leader. Messenger. The words of the songs, not the person, is what attracts people."
-Bob Marley
"Until the philosophy which hold one race superior and another inferior is finally discredited and
abandoned...WAR! So that is prophecy, and everyone know that is truth. And it came out of the mouth of Rastafarian."
-Bob Marley
"The first thing you must know about me is that I always stand what I stand for. Good? The second thing you must know about yourself listening to me is that words are tricky. So when you know what me a stand for, when i explain something to you, you must never try to look upon it in a different way from what i stand for."
-Bob Marley
"Emancipate yourself from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our mind..."
-Bob Marley
"The good times of today, are the sad thoughts of tomorrow."
-Bob Marley
"You can fool some people sometimes, but you can't fool all the people
all the time."
-Bob Marley
"Don't gain the world and lose your soul, wisdom is better than silver or gold..."
-Bob Marley
"Rise O fallen fighters, rise and take your stance again, He who fight and run away, Live to fight another day"
-Bob Marley
"The power of philosophy floats through my head, Light like a feather, Heavy as Led"
-Bob Marley
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 10:56 AM UTC
#Ogun owed Oxun for the fee he paid
to divorce Yemayá in the watery deep.
Babalu Aye‘s messenger delayed
(no *** in the bargain – price too steep)
until San Martín, divine caballero
deceived the third wife of el Indio Guerrero.
(Obatala‘s beats got lost in transit
the rhythm robbed by macumba-bandit.)
Eleguá cleared paths for He Who Opens Pores.
Black roosters smoked puros at midnight. Outdoors,
Santa Muerte was asked to turn down the noise
so Nana Buluku could get some sleep.
As she gathered Ashé, reduced to a heap
of Yoruba fool’s gold anointed with blood
Oduduwa pretended he understood;
but his mother-in-law knew he never would
until Olódùmarè returned from the feast
having sacrificed roosters while facing east.
The santero drew me a pictogram
to protect me from forces my poem conjured
but the blood of a sacrificed perfect lamb
affords more protection, I knew. He wondered.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:39 PM UTC
I think Poetry found me very early,
From somewhere in mama's womb.
Hooked to her umbilical cord firmly.
I heard something like a tiny bomb.
It was the sound of the talking drum,
Heralding the arrival of another grio.
So with gratitude, I said thanks mom,
And to the world, I said a very big hello.
Of course, I used the language of babies,
I cried and breathed in my very first air.
This was my first sight of the ladies
They smiled as they washed my hair.
My very first poem was a sad prayer.
It was written when I was very hungry
I was hopeless, I had only one dollar,
And no real prospect of ever making it.
So I took out my old used notepad,
UnfortunateIy, I had no pen to write with.
I wrote with a charcoal found in the yard,
And I wrote many long lines on my wall.
I wrote everything I had to tell God
Sadly, I couldn't write them all.
I cried in anguish to the Lord,
Asking If He had forgotten me.
Of Course, I got no immediate answer,
But years later my answer came.
It came in the form of a letter.
Addressed to me, ten years later
It came later but it felt better,
Instantly my struggle was all over!
The first love letter I wrote was poetry,
It was childish, unstructured and ugly.
It was written to a girl, she was pretty,
She read it and smiled, I wasn't so lucky.
Crushed, yet I pretended to be strong
I walked away but ran all the way home.
I cried in anguish and wrote a love song.
The lines were very sad, I felt all alone.
But I knew it was my first real rejection.
So I tried writing again, this time to me.
I was very focused, I was on a mission.
Finally, it finished and I wrote my name.
Unfortunately, the answer was the same,
There and then I knew I had no game,
So I reconciled and just took the blame.
Fast forward,and many years later,
I found the subject of my love letter.
I wrote a note to her on messenger.
I was optimistic because I wrote better.
I was emboldened by my poetic power.
Once again,the reply came to me later,
This time it was a resounding yes!
It felt so wonderful, thanks to poetry
And the universe I didn't make a mess.
#IvanBrooksPoetry©
7/22/2018
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC
he gulps me into peaces
__
led to his bed.
eyes kissed and asked to
come and go to where I
dream and imagine
but do not think.
he gulps me into pieces.
oh my god
oh my god
oh my god.
and when he sees I am at last
in peaceful,
speaks.
god could but desires not to answer
all who call out to him.
thus the human was invented:
an imperfect messenger
a version of his image
that answers you in
pieces of peace
as best as any
human can
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 4:35 AM UTC
She's somewhere in the sunlight strong
her tears are in the falling rain
she calls me in the wind's soft song
and with the flowers she comes again.
The loneliness and misery
are silenced by a melody.
She's somewhere and I hear her sing
her words in timeless memory.
Stay the course, light a star,
change the world where ere you are.
Somewhere the night wind carries her
the silver moon beam lights her way
Onterees is her messenger
and every sun and moon her stay
Dark voices from the shadows call
but listen and her voice recall
Moriah, Moriah
Stay the course, light a star,
change the world where ere you are
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 3:37 PM UTC
You ran from us
I'm glad you did
Because if I had gotten my hands on you
You would've been dead in 2 seconds flat
You hurt her
I hate why you keep smiling
Why are you smiling
You hurt her
So why do you keep smiling
Your stupid smile isn't going to fix things this time Jeremiah
So stop
Or I can make you stop
Because
If I had gotten to do
What I had wanted to do to you
You would have no reason to smile
You didn't need your own little messenger team
Just because you don't have the ***** to tell her
But you can tell everyone else
"Were not really together"
"Were friends with benefits"
"We were never together"
Then you tell her this
"I'm busy"
Well end it stupid
Don't keep her wondering
If you even think about her anymore
She waited for you
Waited for reassurance
Waited for you to give her the time of day
Waited for you to realize
You are dating
Well... were dating
But Jeremiah
She isn't a dog
She can't keep waiting for you
You need to realize she isn't a toy
You can't just use her when you want too
Excuses
So many BS excuses
Because for
5 days
You ignored her for 5 days
Making excuses
To save your own ***
But your plan back fired
So who's the idiot now
I hate you
She hates you
We all hate you
Don't talk to me
Don't talk to us
And for the love of god
Never
Ever
Talk to her again
Because I will
Cut off your *****
So you can't ever get what you want
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 11:44 AM UTC
Concerned,
my wellbeing doesn’t come into it
neither does my wife’s;
but worried I am,
for my children’s future,
my children children’s future
and for my great, great grandchildren too.
I listen with horror,
I watch and shudder,
I read and feel misery;
when the wind blows,
because time enough at last,( or is it?),
I gaze at the old man in the cave,
with a little peace and quiet,
will it be shelter skelter?
Are we in quarantine?
Chosen?
For a new place, alas, Babylon
with perhaps Dr Strange Love?
Maybe there is no soul
within the man,
unless the balanced man became unbalanced,
what reason has a man got,
(even if he’s people are suffering from punishment),
To justify such actions?
Perhaps Pak Pong-ju is not a man,
Could he be God’s apprentice
God’s messenger
God’s terminator,
to emulate ***** and Gomorrah or Pompeii?
Why should we shoot the messenger?
If this is the case
then truly I should be concerned,
my wellbeing doesn’t come into it
neither does my wife’s;
but worried I am,
for my children’s future,
my children children’s future
and for my great, great grandchildren too.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 4:51 PM UTC
"Tick-tock," says the clock.
"Haha, yea...," I reply.
Maybe I'm a bad friend,
But I'm jealous of the clock.
Sure, I love hanging around with the clock,
But wouldn't it be great to be him?
You might say I'm ticking with envy.
(Whatever that means)
Beautifully crafted,
Always moving forward,
Always being looked up to.
Even when someone tells you you're slow or wrong,
You keep moving forward regardless.
Man wants to reverse you,
And constantly fights against you,
But I know you're just misunderstood.
"Don't shoot the messenger," as they say.
Stay strong clock.
We'd be lost without you.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
i
why don´ t they just make a machine
that does our living,lily,darling,
save a lot of messing..
we live all these years and then
slowly our memory depletes them
(though they say all memory lives within..)
if we were programmed at the beginning
some kind of limiting of emotion
ambition etc..
alpha to epsilon
brain washing
soma..
*** but no reproduction
endless fun
order..
is belonging
art gone
the way sure..
simple dogma
love or go
love..*
ii
lily says
love is meaningless
unless we are ready to
die..
who is..
would i..
i
stood
high
to the very
devil..
fall over
weebil..ha..
but to die
and see sun
rise no more..
little bird
sing
in
the silent
dawn
sweet voice
eternal greeting..
blithe angel
o children
of the future..
messenger of
the gods..
loyal gaurdian
to ever
and never..
outside
and know
a silent cosmos..
be born anew
to heart
be found..?
*through-out the poem are references to the
brilliant novel brave new world.for which i make no
apology but as a mark of respect to great talent of
aldous huxley..
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 7:40 AM UTC
*
In the end
Life numbs YOU
Why are you pushing me away?
With this final masquerade
Given UP
In pieces
Crawling away
I am powerless
Bringing me One step closer
To Somewhere I belong
*With Heavy heart
What I've done?
LOVED YOU..!
I'm a paper-cut survivor
Let me bleed it out
Let me burn it down
I've no more sorrow
What's this new divide?
I'm Breaking the Habit of LIFE
Shadow of the Day elongating
I'm Waiting for the end
I remain the messenger of LOVE
Lying for YOU from life
Guilty all the same
From the inside
Let me crawl back in your life
In the castle of glass
Give a Place for my head
Otherwise I'll be gone
I'm out of time now
Traveling the roads untraveled
With black heart
I am rider of the storm
Living the Battle Symphony
Burning in the skies
So don't let down me
I'm victimized
So slow Ya roll
Let me hit the floor
Away from lies greed misery
See Inside me
In the end we made it
with YOU
I LOVE In the end
*********
Love can save our LIVES
*
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 12:57 AM UTC
No sun this morning. Rather,
Austin struck gray
Thru and thru.
There is a bite to god’s madness--16 years
Of sun before I came--16 years
Of fall, rain, fertile soil raised by
Red star.
You, obscured in morning, take my
Love out my mouth, my messenger in railed
Kisses.
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 10:30 PM UTC