"possibilitys" poems
Notes passed,
Check yes,
fingers crossed,
Heart against chest,
Stomach in knots.
The note makes its way down the row,
And I recieve curious looks,
But my eyes are trained on your face,
As you grasp the note carefully,
Curiously opening the white sheet,
And reading my neat writting.
*When my eyes open,
You're the last image from my dream,
And when we speak,
My heart skips,
One, two, three beats.
And right befor I go to sleep,
I think of the possibilitys,
Of You and Me.
Check:
Yes No
Date me?*
Your cherry glossed lips spread
Into the softest smile
And your bright, shinning eyes
Find mine.
And I see you blush
Shy.
Beautiful.
You grasp your pencil
Scribble something down
And send it back to me
I can feel my heart
Head to feet
Pounding.
Yes
*My sweet, sweet prince
You've gained my heart
I'll take care of yours.
Love, Your Princess.*
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 8:19 PM UTC
the moving shadows of
the men gathering
flicker in my vision
cause me to ponder the moment
in a way i had not seen before
cause me to fracture the vision
to decode the meanings in
each mans motion
each mans meaning
her long black hair entangles my head
as dose her deep long looking
her neat clean eyes frighten me
with their possibilitys
with their depth
with their hot beauty
it is not my place to find
a place in this womans life
i am but a distraction to her
somthing to occupy the moment
to phish for lost keys
in sections of some dreadlock music
she erased poems to fit onto the kindle
she removes her shirt
to rinse out the sweat
in the tidal pool
a young woman nearby stops
and stares
smiles when they meet eyes
and i am surfing my beach bike alone
walking it
home?
where am I
where am i going?
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 12:03 PM UTC
Imagine a day with no end,
No sleep, and no bed.
What would it be like?
The possibilitys are endless,
but it's a wonder
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 9:27 AM UTC
As i look in the mior at my self i see two sides of me one bright and beautiful and the other a mistory awiting to be discovered. My mind is where i spend most of my time thinking long thoughts. Pondering on what is going on. My friend is my own creativity a poet esacpinv my reality i live is hell i cant escape. My mind is full of things i cant explain. Ideas creative exiting but road lesss traveled. Bc beyong every bend is a mistake i make every time i open a new door to my own hell. Where god or satan has no control over. I am a walking hell setting wild fires with nothing left bright or beautiful. In my life there is no sun just a world of hell. If i let you see what i see you might lose your mind and go psychoticly crazy just to escape the pits of fire i walk threw. Wind chimes blow giving a chill to the air leaving me with chills of fear down my spine. My bipolar is like a roaler coster a speeding car that crashes into another cras sometimes. Most of the time i spend my time in my head thinking long thoughts pondering on the possibilitys of what is true and what is false. Week after week im stuck in my head just with all my thoughts that never seem to end it never tires me at all. My friend dont follow mw unless you wish to walk in hell like me
Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 4:27 PM UTC