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Shofi Ahmed Apr 2017
At times I heard the songs of the giants
who opted to sing for a glass of wine!

Like Omar Khayyam would sing to the grove of vine,
while singing their lullabies they wouldn’t mind,
defying the bloomer stars in the moonlights
gladly treading on the black alleys of the night.
Didn't they budge, didn't they bend to pick up  
a potion of the sea, billowing in the dark?
But they opted out, just for a glass of wine!

To paint a glimpse of that gorgeous Saqi
till now they shun, lending the sun a paintbrush,
‘cause "if only it was colourful enough,” yet the sun
paints the enduring shades of the blue yonder.
But they turned around—just for a glass of wine!

The moon hanging low over the ocean took a pause.
The earth weighed down so deep is brimful!
Every sunrise paints new, loves to shine on once more
That delved-deep earth vintage taste, cooled in age-old,  
now close by the hands breathe in, full of warm south.
Yet they opted out—just for a glass of wine!

Even the time is speechless, ask me not but why.
Still keeps an ear bent on the wall of the leaning sky.  
Nor those who pop out with an inside scoop are ever drunk.
Nor they leak out, it’s a sea off the sea or Abe-Hayath.
It ain’t that small, it is the deathless spring of elixir!
There's a meadow past the village
On a hill...where magic swarms
You can see it on a summer night
When the clouds predict the storms
Life from time eternal
Starts appearing in the field
Gnomes and bluebell fairies
and the magic that they yield

You can see them from the village
Dancing in the moonlights glow
You can see the lightning jumping
You can see the ebb and flow
The pixies and the fairies
Folk who are part of their own world
Light up the distant meadow
As the magic is unfurled

Daisies and soft bluebells
fill the meadow in the sun
there is clover and some dragonflies
And young children having fun
The magic folk are hiding
Lights are hid, and tucked away
Until the humans in their world
Pack to end the day

It's then, from down the village
That the meadow lights begin
Where the magic lights the sky up
In the early gloaming din
If a human breaks the borders
Coming out and much too near
The lights go dark...and silent
For the magic world has ears

There are sentries in the meadow
All unseen to you
That alert the makers of the lights
When the humans are in view
there is magic in the meadow
magic lanterns are set free
where the world becomes a canvas
Of dancing lights for all to see
Moonlights Horse Tamela

Silent is in the cold chilly air,
While Moonlight takes her ride
Upon her favorite horse,
she calls ‘’ Tamela,’’ which means
like to control everyone within
its own influence,

she riding and galloping around the castle
looking at the beauty of the land,
this beauty had no words, so breath taking,
but as soon as Moonlight seen Dark Angel
walking her way, she got choked up,
while the heavy winds raged,

ash of rose dust blow into the air,
Oh, Dark Angel never plays fare,
Envy eyes is he, who looks at me,
Always around me every day,
Drops of rain started coming down,

I must always remember everything,
Keep track of his anger, each bladed grass
Has a cut of stain of blood,
Of another soul that has been taken down,
Dark Angel, called out saying it’s time to come in.
Let the slave walk ‘’Tamela,’’ back to the stable,
come in out of the rain,

He takes Moonlights hand to help her get off
Her favorite horse, then she and Dark Angel
Walked very fast back to the castle,
While Brutus was at the door,
reaching for Moonlights shawl.

Poetic Judy Emery © 1986
Joe Cole Mar 2015
In your smile the warmth of sunshine
In your eyes the moonlights glow
Serenity surrounds you
Wherever you do go
The gentle breeze of springtime
Whispers your name into the air
And the colors of the seasons
Are reflected in your hair
Nemo May 2013
Come one, come all,
To the strong mans downfall.
Cut the strings on the marionette,
Believe me, you won't soon forget
The haunting sound of the carousel
Or the staggering heights of the citadel.
A red balloon dancing perfectly in the pale gray sky.
A small child lets out a remorseful cry.
The clowns with their agonizing smiles,
Grab hold of your soul and change its style.
You've waited along time for this.
This frightening bliss of a midnight kiss,
And the familiarity of the moonlights whisper.
You've lost control of your juggling act
Prepare yourself for impact.
Watch out for where the sidewalk cracks,
Because everyone knows how that will end.
Come one, come all,
I've done it all
for you.
Jamie King Aug 2017
Waltzing under red moonlights
as thorns tear tongues. We laugh
with black roses reposed in the mouth.

Severed Bonds serve savour songs, as Love leaves longing letters in ponds
of heavy healing hearts.

We waltz still, not as statues but  temperative trumpeters tailing tundras with tabinet tufts.
Again the moonlights company
4 am. She's somewhere.
About the skies glow
Stars flicker eyes turn
Search seek
A lone northern light
A light show
I gaze up to search for
And she's there I turn. My
Sight looks beyond now
Beyond my dim sight
Farther than I can reach
And I hope.
I remember
I close my eyes
And see.
But
For tonight
Her memory
And the moon
Light glow northerly
And a star's
Twinkle
And all my might
Are all I can see.
She is everywhere
But here...

She walked this night
in a snow covered field
as the snow blew all around
dancing diamond’s, iridescent light
with a kiss, the magic was sealed.

To the sky she points, lights appear
stunning colors, fill the dark of night
a graceful dance, only he will see
the beauty of the northern lights.

To him, she sends, her heart, her soul
through lights that dance among the stars
pushing back a looming shadow
she takes comfort in their beautiful memoirs.

Closing her eyes, she sees his face
his eyes, his heart, her beaconing light
pushing back that looming shadow
bringing comfort to her fright.

So she walks this night
in a snow covered field
as the snow blows all around
dancing diamond’s, iridescent light
with a kiss, the magic was sealed.
~
Katlyn Orthman Nov 2012
Starry night
Stars in sight
Beneath the moon light
Eyes watery with forlorn sadness
Mirrors in the water
The small lake before me
Not quite still
My sad eyes
The key to my soul
I'm looking deep into them
What cause this pain
That has burried itself inside of me
Lowered head my brown hair curtains my face
It makes it a bit easier to look at my reflection
But whenever I dare the look
I feel angry
I hit the water with all my might!
But the water simply sloshes
Then settles back into is not quite still state
I feel like screaming
But I don't understand what's wrong
I only know that I feel disgusted with myself
I just wish that I could wash it all away
Wash away the pain the regret
My mistakes my flaws
My tears
My blood
I just want to restart
A new beginning
But my story has yet to end
I stand before the lake
And glance at the sky
Before I step into the cool water
And before I know it I'm summerged
I scream everything out
Until I run out of air
I kick to the surface
And take a deep breath
My throat already felt sore
But I could still feel the nagging anger
So I summerged myselfr again
And scream
Scream raw
Angry
Hurt
Ugly
Stupid
Not enough
So I scream more
Scream worthless
Failure
I scream until I choke
I scream until I begin to cry
Until I'm lifeless
I just lay thee out of energy
On the bank
Of the lake
Beneath the moon
And her starry eyes
I lay there and I just wish
It were all different
That I was better
That I was more
Sleep tight in moonlights touch
Sweet dreams will reach the mind
Like angels kisses on the cheek
You’ll see smiling face asleep.
When full  moon is looking down at you.


Shell✨🐚
Brian Ray Oct 2011
I cant help but throw down some lines,
About this sweet thing I cant get off my mind.
Because as we sit here, fingers entwined.
Her breath escapes her lungs into mine.
Suddenly I feel heartfelt, confused , and right,
Is this the life I’ll take tonight?
Lady whose fingers are lovely and white,
I never want you out of my sight.
But the night whispers no, no, let her go.
“I will never ever let her go.”
The way the moonlight makes her glow,
Strawberry lips, I’ve yet to know.
And when she leans in with love to gloat,
I’ll take that token as I have taken most.
At last when you see her, behold this quote;
“If I get hungry I’ll feast on her throat”
mark john junor Dec 2014
others say there are no more pages
in our romance novel
but we just keep writing beautiful songs of the heart for each other
endings and beginnings
places others don't dare go

to get lost in each others gaze
as the sun and moon walk over the sky holding hands
we keep dancing in the ballroom long after the music stopped
while the night fades away
cause your heartbeat is all i hear

to dance moonlights glow wrapped your arms
cause you make me crazy with dreamy eyed memories
to live moonlights dream wrapped in your eyes
all the nights mysteries to show themselves to me
to be found only by you at long last

so we can run fast and laughing in the fall leaves
so we can breath quick in lovers embrace
wrapped in each others heartstrings
cause you are my song
and im ready to sing
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
A festering toad, happening upon his friend the owl, began upon an uttering. A sort of delirious asking. "Why are people so afraid of death?" With this owl content and basking in the moonlight, they did speak upon the truth of the matter;

"Because when you're dead you're dead see?," the owl remarked so haphazardly.

"But what point is there in that statement," the frog stuttered in with a knowing kind of sinful grin;
"After death, could we not begin to fly with the stars, or at least just pretend that we are orbiting Mars?"

The owl simply replied, "Remember toad, while it is I who pierces the veil, it is you who must lead the spirit parade through it’s transformation."

The toad croaked a sigh at the owl, blinking its ever seeing eyes at his brother-in-arms in feigning return,remarking that “these must truly be times of madness for a mad toad to lead the way….

A shriek! "THEY ARE THOUGH, the rest of the animals forget, basic reality is made up of nothingness, so cheer up, we are all basically nothing, but agile enough to get by don’t cha know!," the owl looks to the moon in its sort of quick jerking way as if seeing some truth inked in it’s light.

"Agile?" the toad cups the question with his consciousness…."Agile enough to derive strength from above and to cater to love through the rough when we tumble hard and it feels so tough... But you know owl, there's life and blood to this stuff so we best start emitting light through  agape sans the gruff.

The toad started repeating a mantra towards the Crystalline reflective lake due south, the direction of healing, transformation, and death:

"the essence of your mind is intrinsically pure, the pure doesn’t mean a non-***** story...pure means clear….void. No eyes, no ears, no mouth, no heart, no I, no problem."

The owl began to speak a slow sort of lullaby in response to the mantra; “Luckily consciousness is like a mirror that needs to constantly be polished.”

The reflective lake of all things replied: “But in truth, there is no mirror. Thus, if you are living in nothingness and if there is no mirror, how can you be contaminated?

This is the most incredible nothing life has been privy to experience, for this nothingness is like the nothingness of space….which contains the whole universe, and out of this void comes everything and you are it. The fear of nothingness….IT plagues those we know, because it has been ignored .

“NOTHINGNESS,” they say, “HEAVEN PRESERVE US OF THAT!“

At the appointed time Agnosia and with the approval of the moonlights shine, the foggy cloud of unknowing descended upon the lake, the toad, and the owl, who all began to speak to chorus in such sweet unison:

“That which is the knower or the known cannot be an object of its own knowledge, Fire does not burn itself. If you put something there on the divine platform, you stop short of knowing and you stop short of glowing.  Following the flowing senses of truth;  Don't stop until you can rejoice in the I that isn’t.”

Everything went quiet in the forest and on the lake, as the obtuse fog displaced itself. The forgetting had become complete.
epilepsy
tranquil Oct 2013
on beds of fragrant sights
through charms of sourest deeds
it rains away all spring
all when my heart bleeds

--------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------------------------------------

i­ know not who i'll be
or what i really am
an immemorial soul
in nimbler storms which swam

among the crowd of flowers
so sickeningly sweet
would lie the boldest aphids
upon the roses feed

my feathers trod on winds
challenge His modest grace
through marching fleet of life
in ****** shadows laid

with semblance of a calm
in grooves of wilderness
in arms of ecstasy
which life stands to confess

but how shall these two feet
embark a lonely trip
perhaps find love so still
as dew on roses' lip

------------------------------------------------------------­----------------------------------------------------------

in faintest of moonlights
on dewy grasses seen
inscribed upon my palm
is meaning of my being.
Janette Aug 2012
Only a distance in time, a slow drift, a free-fall,
To where the curve of the crescent moon ribbons ebon hours together,
And silvern ache dips in moon-silken pools;
Where the poetry of spooned tongues, impart a lasting call,
where he hushes me in the sway of stars,
Drowning my heartbeat in the breath of swollen whispers;
His musky scent, alluring
Melting those hidden places aching for the heat of his touch...



I taste the stir of conversation across my skin;
A silence settles there,
In the cool drifts of its tone, I sense the pulse in his throat,
I feel it thrum, so fragile through veins crowded with the
Stained glass shards of his scent;
My heart draws to the rhythm of his love; and
I am pressed against the quilt of his breath,
Soft.....softly.....a fleeting touch
Skitters in rapid succession around the curve of my neck, where
His lips whisper want in moist seduction...


Here in the freckled light his hips teach me,
Rocking me to the sighs of angels, heated flames of fragrant, vanilla foreplay,
Burn uncontrollably with such undying desire;
Folding my breath inside his hands; all smoke and violets,
Stolen moments;
Needing him, like blood, desiring only him to brim the indulgence,
Swallow it as sorrow and birth it as fire between my hungry thighs, as I beg his ******* to expose me;
Hushing my lips with the fire of his mouth, and the
Slide of his tongue from throat to breast,
His hands pressed upon my skin in urgent exploration,
Spreading me on an altar of rainbows...



Where he Loves me deep and dark in the owl light,
And I tremble, as the wet of want unleashes in the handcuffs of his voice,
Whispering blindfolds of lavender satin around my eyes,
Urging me to braille his body with my tongue's tip
My hungry mouth a mere vessel,
Waiting with wonder, agape for the fill of his adoration;
Soul touching, silk soft fingers, heart caressing the hours;
As we torture the gazing moon, pooling lakes of creamery soft,
Pillowing silken pleasures; breathing paradise upon the fragile blooms
Seared crimson into my veins...



Naked in his arms, heated emotions trickle down,
In a pour of tangled need; in the cradle of collapsed sighs,
Fingers tracing pleasure, lips swollen pouty with desire,
Drag of tongues forging serpentine trails,
Whispered things never heard before;
And like the sky I spread for him, the ink of us
Pouring lavender velvet...two bodies melting into the voice of one,
Chained in moans, in primal kisses that beg arched worship
Kissed raw in the silver scorch, of moonlights rapture,
Where moondust meets skin......

Love Is Deep .....
The laying of hands and lips upon a canvas of aching skin....ignites emotions pressed into the palate by fingers painting tender hues and subtle strokes....tracing lines and curves, indelible with passions ink....climactic quivers, paused
upon the tip of tongues, that ride the ebb and flow of cresting waves..... bleeding seductive shades, blanketing our embrace.....feeling your lips so close.....as breath escapes us........ J
kirk Mar 2018
Two souls alone so far between only nights are calling
Shinning stars pointing the way an affection so enthralling
Shimmers over tranquil pools the crescent moonlights falling
Meetings of two lovers hearts before the mornings dawning

The anguish of a waiting heart the flutter of a wing
Beauties small enchanted voice hearing the Fairy sing
Dreams of love's compulsion, her song the wolf will bring
Within two hearts both shall meet on silvers entwined ring

A curse that's placed is broken a drink of pure tranquillity
The Spirit of the Wolf is called upon a test of his nobility
Flight of the fairy's soft élan her grace and her gentility
Brake the curse before the dawn the tranquil pools ability

Moonlight shines through the night sky a twinkle in a star
Sparkles touch the waters edge those loves that leave a scar
Both must drink before the light love's lost forever far
Glimmers of hope a small sip Wolf's howl at what they are

Transformations will occur love will always intervene
Magical flickers catch the light and wherever it is seen
Once a fairy fluttering now she's a proud Wolf queen
Wolf's are always calling where tranquil pools have been

The souls of two true lovers, will never be apart
Differences are overcome, from Loves intervening heart
Tranquil pools compulsive dreams, those feelings from the start
When two hearts are intertwined, that's true loves unique art
MOONLIGHTS BROKEN WINGS

Moonlight revels her pains ,fears
in the storm rain flowing tears
upon angry seas
in darken dreams
that makes her scream
Oh, velvet moon
you had given bright eye
in late June ...
when winter made its way
the sky became more gray
all hearts gone numb
on a darken throne
where no love to be found
to lift a finger to help one out
in terror she spoke
while her own faith did sink
she was left with broken wings
in darken dreams .

Poetic Lilly Judy Emery (c)
Darken Dreams
Katlyn Orthman Nov 2012
There in the sky was a flashing light
Majestic to the eye
It was a beautiful sight

Sailing across the moons aura
Dipping past the sun
It was a sight to be seen
Though it was seen by none

Not a soul but mine
Had seen the proof
Not a soul but mine
New the truth

Around Saturns ring
And into the stars *****
The light would sing
Into my ear  

It was my secret to bare
It was my breath is save
It was under moonlights glare
That I'd take it to the grave

And to this day
I still don't know
That lights name
Or why it came
Moonlight reveals her pains, fears
in the storm of rain of flowing tears
brought me back to those broken years.
Upon the angry seas, angels did cry,
in darken dreams
that makes her scream
Dark Angel is being so mean.
Oh, velvet moon you never come out too soon
you had given me sight that brightens my eyes
in this late painful June.
Now winter has made its way
that is keeping the sky grayer
my heart is feeling it has gone numb
because I am locked away in a darkened throne
where no one could find true love
that comes from heaven above.
Dark Angel has broken Moonlights wings
as her spirit slowly sinks...
she was left with broken in darken dreams.

- Judy Emery © 1979
The Queen Of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery
THE QUEEN OF DARKEN DREAMS POETIC JUDY EMERY
She Hare Jun 2014
Dark his eyes as midnight
with stars in the gleam.
He glowed of snow in moonlights
mysterious bright beam.

Lightning was his spirits source,
and thunder born.
he stood in the likeness of a horse,
but held high a mighty horn.

rapid danced his lively mane
that left a rapid trail,
across his majestic frame
that cascades into a plumed tail.

Filled with the rainbows essence
spectacular to behold,
and just as illusive in his presence
as the promised ***-o-gold.
r Jun 2016
The work I do is not easy,
but it's not bad.
I'm glad to have it,
when it's all I've ever had.

I am a student of the night.
I wear a black patch
on my sleeve.

My teacher's name is Sleep,
and she goes by Dreams, too.

She moonlights by the creek
that flows like a gust of wind
through leaves I never knew,
places I've never been.

We sing songs about you, love.
This song's about you.
Holly Mar 2015
Go to sleep, Close your eyes,
Dream of broken butterflies
That tore their wing against a thorne.
You know the pain that  they have borne.

Silver medal, shines so bright
Scarlette blood, that feels so right.
Dream of that blood trickling down,
And wake up just before you drown.

The moonlights shining off your tears,
As you bleed your own worst fears,
So tonight when you start to cry,
Whisper the cutters lullaby.

Hushabye baby, your almost dead.
You dont have a pulse and your pillow is red.
Your family hates you, your friends let you bleed.
Sleep tight with a knife because thats all you need.

Rockabye baby, broken and scarred,
You didnt know that  life would be this hard.
Time to end the pain you hid so well,
And down will come baby, straight back to hell.
Not written by me!
mark john junor Feb 2014
fled the sun in favour of treading moonlights path
shes become a carpet bagger of the
nights flourishing kingdoms of alleyways
and the treasured dumpsters like sodden jewels they contain

she reeks from the cast off of the popular masses
but it is sweet perfumes to the forsaken
hollow eyed wanderers lost in the maze
of concrete and steel
she lips a sacred song in her temple of night
and keeps a wary eye painted to the ever shut door
the unexpected is the road dogs creed
and she allways got a little something extra
stashed away for the hungry and quiet

ribbons decorate her torn dress
they are fine silk stained with coffee and beans thats our girl
the highest quality in the lowest company
shes a rough house princess with a heart of gold
she wanders me down to the tear-drop inn
rents me a bed to lay up with some pretty dreams

pulls out of her designer jeans a folded and creased copy
of nineteen fifty three complete with greaser kids and hot rods
left me there dreamin i was the tough guy
leather jacket and Indian motorcycle
and she was my betty boop candy sweet smile girl
in the quiet halls of the tear-drop inn
with a sadsack companion picking dreamers pockets
for the smiles to be found
thats our girl
thats our sweet sweet girl
covered in the romance of the hard road
trackmarks and ***** dustbins
the likes of her we may never see again
Poetic T Dec 2015
Wisps of lingering Cimmerian shade
Succumb to moonlights glaring decay,
Angels feathers arise in onyx death
Beauty taking final breath.
Aleska Servian Jul 2015
She's always worried about his pile of dead hearts
warm soul, cold touch
bright friday nights, mysterious moonlights
maybe some words have been misjudged
He saw in her someone to carry his faith
for a small period of time, someone who could climb
his walls until it was too late to look down

There is a fire inside his mind
that burns her heart and makes her blind
Suicidal soul, reigns without control
under her apparently thick skin
There is a shred of confidence on the sheets
a world of possibilities on his lips
Suicidal soul, black hole
swallowing the reddest of the sins

He always kept somethings hidden in the attic
banned feelings, unknown reasons
she stayed and she played
until she found out with what she was dealing
but amidst the quiet catastrophe, there was always a way out
We never see the worst in those we love the most
Memories will cut like a knife
what a long and troubled life

Suicidal soul, let me choose
something that can't be refused
by the universe, i ask you please
suicidal soul, let me keep
somethings that are not meant to be
Amelia Jo Anne Jan 2014
I wish you believed these cracked bones, these arching tones, my so alones. I wish you saw my broken jaw, my tooth & claw, my obvious flaws. If you would listen to why I stay in bed, & to my cringe when the voices in my head sound, then I would tell you I am nothing, why I'm lost & not found. I would tell you that me, you'll never see, & I only live hypothetically. I am a ghost spirit, chained to this body, this ***** house all the girls frequent; they each claim the same identity & 'I' is a term they each invent. They speak in careful whispers & undo zippers & wonder why no one gives a ****. They thrive in sequinned moonlights, unfought bar fights, & ponder where the day went. When things get rough I float outside my head, sit in the air, see the scene unfold; you think you speak to me, but you can't hurt me when I'm above you, friend to ceiling mould. The girls are masters of identity theft, & 'me'? Ha! There's nothing left. They love to push me into a dream; from there they rampage merrily. I thought I'd **** them, but it seems I'm live ill-vibe & bare-ily.
http://imma-duck.deviantart.com/
On the rooftop
I meet my shadow
On the hyacinth pond!
He leads a carefree life,
Happy at just being
My shadow!
Like me too
He sips the moon
But pens no poem,
Swoons not
In the ethereal night,
Only drops dead
When the moonlights fade!
He has my life
Without my worries
With my passions
Without my strife!
He doesn’t yield
When I say
‘hey, shadow, get my face,
take my place’
he says ‘no,
I’m happy a shadow
on the hyacinth pond
reflected but not reflecting
on a moonlit night!
I stopped at hell the crossroads
Dug up the middle
Placed my trinkets down just so
Covered them up
Waiting for him under moonlights glow

I turn left, I turn right
Face forward
Turn to look behind
There he stands
My beautiful demon man

He strides towards me
A question and smirk in his eyes
He bids me a crooked brow
Asking what do I desire

I tell him what I want
I ask what my penance will be
He throws his head back and laughs
He's so beautiful, dark hair and eyes
Red eyes gaze and with a whisper he says
"You will someday see"

Though beautiful he is
I can't help but shiver under his gaze
He lifts his hand to my cheek
Giving it a soft lustful graze

He seals our deal with a kiss
One that leaves me weak
Oh how I love this demon man
How I shiver
Under his demon gaze

The crossroads I have come
The crossroads I now leave
With tingling lips and answered desires
I shall wait my penance to thee
#crossroads #demon #fear #desire #penance
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
This depression gives the impression

that the expression of a burnout is…

me

living and loving intently free

prison depends on jailhouse babies and legal **** ; weee!

we must organize expression of a quantum size, to re-realize more food and supplies

its such a surprise that id be thinkin this, engineering instruments with a pnuematic hiss

geared towards the questioned technocolypse….

“…well here on the graph we read an elipse, a parabola, and a demonic kiss…”

But whats this?

im’ channeling some quick quips ; alluring as a brothel’s contained hips with the open smile of sideways lips….

my daring is preparing all the world for destructive repairing

cause the frogs and the rains are staring

at this desolate earth

a burnt out hearth

with smouldering ashes, speaking of a crying birth

while the midwife is sick and shy with little self worth and curse; because a as a witch she doth rehearse

while the moonlights smiling and the phones texting and dialing

“Whats wrong?”==”Are you ok?”

“…but come on?”==”Is there any other way?…”

[please oh please let me stay in this old and bloodied fray; where the battles had axes and handles

where there were stories of travels, to faraway places leading to exotic geographic stasis]

caught in the moment of thought, a moment of fright…

until we stop and put a light to these wierd words

we wont know what the birds have heard….

Click crshhh….*

BURN little match like the wood you are!

combustion of suggestion set ablaze from afar

a flame throwers burned hands

while the pained sower , frustrated, changes plans

because in the end one one really understands

the torment of a floment spent eternally alone in atonement.

(=purgatory)

Where all you want to do is get on the phone, external validation felt at the tone,

but it really ain’t ****

because you are crying while its dialing and your out of minutes…

so check this bits of imaginary meaning and ****

ponder and quit

when you seek to make amends and introduce fake men to our imaginary friends

i keep on thinking…keep on blinking

wishing for emotion to extend

SO I think the words

AND I write whats heard

but haven’t YOU heard

from the little ittie birdie whos been certainly flying, singing and free

that im not mentaly sturdy, quirky, and ******…

LOGICALLY

iknow

sophistry

ishow

emotionally

Hol…………­……………loW

I guess it just goes to show that when you at home your never reallly  alone, because to you, the voices do drone
about

how much sandpaintings and ***** can be blown,….

away with a CLICK…BoooM

beaten with a stick….AH

shoed a away with a kick….

START my heart! I know better than this!

so I better think quick

before i stay mentally sick

as an alien who has forgotten it’s world

got on a roller coaster; spinned and whirled

till im spun and twirl’d

on this game we call life, with simple **** and complex hype,

hives of concepts meanings and thoughts….to derive daily quit failing

i miss haley :( , even phailee….

so I ask little voice in my head , since everyone has left will you stay instead?

come a little closer and hop into bed

so we can share the warmth of one last self-referencing infinity loop….

…..BEFORE i wake up and forget whats ashore

because im out at dream sea with clouds free and galore

but as soon as i stop thinking i know ill return to the me that i abhore

with pain and saddness deranged

omit school so classless and strange

as a failed out actress sick with mange.

but i know these negatvie moments are just flashes , to make me appreciate self motivated happiness…

so here you go

its me on the page, skelly the sage….

i just hope to god that I could set the stage 4 nirvana or heaven, we reach zion in seven

6

5

4

3

2

1

I love you.

Its over

i won myself over

like a sad kids redrover

thanks for letting  m3 share these freestyle thoughts i kant bear

im  alone no more, i seem to have exhausted my sadness store

and after venting i realize…. its a lot ******* bettor.

“Isn’t it eeeire howletting yourself feel sad

can make you feel soo much better?”
Carson Hurley Mar 2017
I have seen the fear it leaves in the hearts of those who trespass.
The fear is the fuel that fires the beast.
It prowls, basking in the moonlights deep ominous glow.
Watch it hunt,
I dare you.
A toast of celebration to anyone who catches the eye of the beast,
and lives to tell the tale.
He is not fussed with man,
there is little that is amazing about a man, except his fear.
He waits for the perfect woman, for she is great at all.
Hackles high, the scent is there, the meadow grass dances with the wind.
The wolf howls in hunger, as his hunt finally begins.

— The End —