"ooz" poems
The rhythm of the burnt pages,
Of the diary of life with no wages,
Pages of old memories,
That you may consider as stories,
Which sometimes ooz tears out of me
That which I wish u knew.
The rhythm of the smokes of the diary,
That which makes me weary,
Putting in you in a dilemma,
A sophisticated dilemma.
Pages that makes me smile suddenly,
But in the aftermath, resulting in a cry,
Then I sit solely,
My tears has not dry,
I might have cried ruining my make up,
Pages in that needs to be burnt,
That which I write every morning when I wake up,
Memories I can't erase, pages that will remain burnt.
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 9:32 AM UTC
My opening words I write to you
Are pennies from my wishing well
An inexpensive gesture for you
My sentences ramble from time to time
I was never good at a well placed period
My thoughts just bang in my head
And slowly ooz from my mind
I hope you smile reading this rhyme
The warmth that creeps upon you are my arms
Lay your head down with your soft thoughts
Tonight with me there are no more mountains to climb
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 5:42 PM UTC
Like the torn pages of some book, my heart leaps in to look, dabs of watermark, screams with ache, shattering in the corner with a broken quil, scarttering ink
The spurts of red ooz, down the thin lining, skating through the white sheets
I think of, what my fears tend to paint, a terrible sin, taled by a dark saint
Robed in pale, clear as a glass trans, bears the spurts with that of an ink mark
Glows with the hit of ray, ignites the jealous spark of the impossibilities
S..sshhh!
It's breath, hovers my shoulder with a sticky wetness odor
Clenching and sniffing as if ripping my veins out of order
A slight touch of my hand spooked ****** ambience in a blink
Of that of some air brush smearing spurts of ***** ink...
©sim
Nov 13, 2019
Nov 13, 2019 at 5:38 AM UTC