"satisfies" poems
they called me crazy
for refusing to pick flowers
for saving spiders from the kitchen
and for talking to birds rather than humans
they called me crazy
for clawing at my wrists
for eating my own words
and for tearing out my hair for allowing myself to feel
nothing ever satisfies
when you worry about the endless amount
of "they"
and "them"
and what "they" think
nothing ever satisfies
when "they" meet your demons
and "they" make a home
in your own ******* ribs
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 8:00 AM UTC
For years my heart was guarded, protected from the world.
But somehow you have disarmed me, opened and unfurled.
You’ve taken me, broken and damaged, mishandled and hurled .
Yet you see me as delicate and dainty, so precious and pearled.
Everything’s not perfect but it sure is beautiful here.
Your smile so bright with a voice I just love to hear.
Your touch, so gentle I just want to have you near.
I love your energy and your presence, you make everyone else disappear.
He has captured my trust and that’s something not easily given.
He has made all my worries forgotten and all of my heartache is forgiven.
His mission was to win my heart and made his goal clear, he was driven.
After plenty of chances to earn my trust, I’d finally decided to give in.
I feel so loved, so valued, so cared for so protected.
He has won me over and I doubt I’ll ever regret it.
To a man who truly cares for me and satisfies my every need.
For you have saved me from my darkness, and my heart you have freed.
Jul 11, 2021
Jul 11, 2021 at 6:27 PM UTC
“Whatever satisfies the soul is truth”
- Walt Whitman
Sadyang mapaghimagsik ang iyong panulat ‘pagkat nilabag nito ang lahat ng tugma at sukat. Isa kang tunay na rebolusyunaryo sa larangan ng panitikan ng tulaan. Sinalungat mo ang tradisyunal na konsepto ng panulaan. Binigyang laya mo ang galaw ng damdamin upang ganap na kumawala ang tinig ng kaluluwa at sinabi mo na ito nga ang wagas na kahulugan ng tunay na tula. Na ang tunay na tula ay hindi dapat limitahan ng sukat, tugma at ritmo sapagkat ito ang sigaw ng kaluluwa’t damdamin.
Bagama’t hinamak ka nila at inusig noong ikaw ay nabubuhay pa subalit napatunayan mo naman sa lahat na tama ang doktrina mo’t pananaw. Ngayon ikaw ang tinitingala at binabathala ng lahat ng mga makata, ikaw ang itinanghal na ama ng Malayang Taludturan.
Salamat sa Leaves of Grass at Song of Myself kung saan ipinagdiwang mo ang pag-ibig mo sa buhay, kalikasan, kaibigan, pamilya at sa lahat ng mga bagay. Sabi nila bastos daw ang mga tema at paksang iyong tinalakay palibhasa’y nagpakatotoo ka sa iyong sarili at pagsasalarawan ng buhay.
Salamat mahal na **** sa iyong ginintuang pamana sa amin, salamat sa Malayang Taludturan, salamat sa pag-ibig mo sa panuluan. Ikaw na nga talaga ang humalili kina Dante, Homer at Ovido. Mananatili kang buhay sa aming ala-ala mahal na pantas.
Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 3:59 AM UTC
Relapse and rewind
This happens every god **** time.
I've been neglecting the drugs,
The ones that were supposed to save me.
They only make it worse
Make me feel more crazy.
But when the time comes
Where my tide breaks
I cannot hold my ground.
The monsters come to me
With deafening sound.
Whispers from malevolent lips
Sound so sweet.
Like candy for my starving soul.
And soon I'm on that sugar high.
Rushing cherry red
It's got such a lovely flavor.
Feeds my hunger
Satisfies my thirst.
It won't be long
Before I'm back for more.
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 1:43 AM UTC
I was treated like the VIP,
A cat and a big fish,
A hook and a big Six,
whilst visiting madam bow-peeps
rotisserie of *****
Always receptive,
Wearing open silk
working 9 to 5am.
With a little overtime,
hot funk never satisfies,
She had the way-with-all
to feign, delight; even interest,
before negotiating the price,
Two shekels,
She was classy,
kind of slick,
she tickled my ears
for nothing more than kindness,
a small token in exchange for a smile.
She popped on a tune,
as she took off her dress.
The petting started
her two hands tugging with the zipper of my jeans.
A woman's touch... Ha HA,
the rich sultry kiss of *****
tight and tasty;
***** like a ripe tomato,
Sugar fried and drunk.
She opened her legs,
her hair smelled like shampoo,
She was on her belly,
knees tucked up
as I took in the fruit,
deep holes filled with **** and shabby fingers,
hollow spit and angry poison,
head spinning to the groove,
loud and high,
The bed squeaked
and a single light bulb dangled
like a loose tooth,
Ten minutes and
two ******* love songs!
Sick and spent up,
I got dressed to leave,
I said with a poke,
"I couldn't get laid,
Not even in a ***** house!"
And now I'm back in the cold again,
only dirtier.
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 4:50 PM UTC
I see you, in those short skirts walking that way
Always making a point, to smile my way, everyday
Flirtatious eyes wondering, we don’t trip, we just play
I see him by your side, you tired of that relationship
Ain’t loving you right, so every night your mind just shifts
To me between your thighs, working that, overnight shifts
Toungin you down right, when I’m done- you just twitch.
Then I switch, going left to right, got you clenching your fist.
Giving you what you need, satisfies me. You loving the twist
You are loving this ****
Hitting your spot, never miss
He calls your name,
but you come to me-- doing this
The pleasures mine; yours is bliss
One is never enough,
and two loves company
Why else would we exist
We were built to fit like this
Flipping your world upside down
like I'm your atlas.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
We find multiple ways to disconnect
Where business and technology intersect
We kick one another for cash
When we need equilibrium for our economy
Our morals disintegrate to ash
And we trade away our autonomy
But we don't dare reflect
Instead we disconnect
We turn people into symbols and numbers
So we can more comfortably slumber
After causing heartbreaking pain
Through bureaucratic chains
Because face to face
Our heart will race
And we'll examine our submerged morals
That lie in the depths with the coral
But our reflection is too much to bear
So we cowardly choose not to care
The only way we can feel ecstatic
Is to turn people into demographics
The Internet connects us
But also satisfies lust
And imitates human contact
Which has a negative impact
The feeling leaves us sated
And we don't feel the need to change
Our armor becomes plated
And we shoot arrows from long range
Because we don't like the idea of being one another
We get used to the idea of not seeing one another
We disconnect so we don't have to try
We disconnect so we can slowly die
The ****** disconnection continues
As we find more violent avenues
We utilize fatal instruments
To ****** without the sense
Of physically feeling
The life we're stealing
We stabbed one another with swords
Until the bullets soared
But we still needed more
So we disconnected further
And became satellite searchers
Studying people through actions
Defining them by faction
We don't have any interest in their personality or flaws
All we're concerned with is if they're breaking the law
The law we wrote to tip the scales
The law that makes us too big to fail
A husband leaves his wife
Disconnecting from her life
She's left with a child
To raise in the wild
Until a drone drops a bomb
On the struggling single mom
She's not an investor
So we'll just harvest her worthless life
Who'll be her protector
When she's near someone we don't like?
We **** her from our computer
That's the way we casually mute her
We carefully cultivated a disconnect
To treat one another like insects
This mentality will infect
Until we interject
Once we finally reflect
Love will connect
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 6:09 AM UTC
I am a man
of no flag
no God
and no party
but this offers me
certain freedoms
like freedom from offense
and freedom to offend
I've always found the most
"offensive" jokes to be the funniest
like a sacred cow butcher
and if you are offended easily
this might not be the poem for you
that being said
here we go
Did you hear the one
about the last pope
who actually did any good?
yeah me neither
What did the pilot say
when the Muslim man
walked on his plane?
"This is flight 216
we may have a potential
security risk on the plane."
America: Land of the free
home of the brave?
where a vast majority
of the population
are wage slave cowards
and don't get me started on England
a hot nest of xenophobia and racism
which almost makes me glad
to not live there anymore
and it doesn't matter
if you are a democrat
or a republican
because either way
you are wrong, and dumb
did you hear the one about
the anti-gay republican in the gay bar?
He took the most drugged up man he could find
for some fun in the bathroom stall
because the chances are tomorrow
he won't remember enough to break the story
I live in the sacred cow slaughter house
(you can't spell slaughter without laughter)
and the only food that really satisfies me anymore
is USDA prime choice sacred cow beef
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 10:27 AM UTC
I'm not one of those people
Who can bury that itch,
So very down deep
That they can't even scratch.
Certainly, most days, I'm satisfied with Me,
Just can't seem to be satisfied with Just me.
I want four hands, not two,
And four feet, covered in warm woolen socks between sheets.
I want clamoring voice from a throat that's not mine.
I want two heads, two hearts,
Two toothbrushes.
Different length hair in the shower
(You clean it out)
Accidental-shrunken work shirts
Cussing fights while I finish the laundry
Surprise apologies later.
Nights of scheduling compromise
Days of scheduling compromise
How many sick days can we skip work with?
I don't need some long-distance,
Not-a-relationship
Just-friends-with-benefits
********
I cannot hug me
I cannot bury my face in my chest
And just breathe.
My arms don't reach far enough,
And I get a crick in my neck only to find that
My shirts just smell like cheap soap.
Not looking for marriage.
Ten years until kids.
Maybe a dog later on.
We'll walk it together, and you can bag the poo...
It could be I'm just too addicted to ***
Or maybe I wear too much lingerie.
My corsets and evening gowns show too much of my flesh?
I know too many good random subjects for conversation?
My **** looks too good.
Your **** looks too good?
Pick one and tell me,
So I can find that one thing
That keeps the timing from not lining up
Or lets me meet men that aren't married, or
Under 18, Under 21, Under-able to carry out a conversation with words longer than 2 syllables.
I probably won't even see it coming,
That day when I find that someone who satisfies Just Me.
But for now, can I please find
Someone to just satisfy me?
Oct 14, 2010
Oct 14, 2010 at 7:24 PM UTC
I
I
I
look at me, me, me
And we fail to see,
Attention is the new "drug".
And thus we believe we deserve the best while aiming for mediocrity.
The "I generation"
Defined by our need to feel special
We post, tag and snapchat to feed our addictions
But nothing ever satisfies
Just one more hit
and I’ll be done with this
Just one more like
and one more time
But we fail to realize we’re slowly dying inside
as life
Passes us by.
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 6:27 AM UTC
Your innocent look
melts my heart...
Your sensual kiss
awakens my senses...
Your demanding caress
taunts me into temptation...
Your teasing touch
feeds the fire you have lit...
Your hungry embrace
arouses me through and through...
Your passionate love making
satisfies my every desire...
2008
COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey,
~Angelmom~
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 9:27 PM UTC
Mind is a super computer they say.
It can think of millions of stuff in a matter of day.
From the bombings in Iraq,
to the hurt in my best friends heart.
From the moment its up,
It never stops,
To stop. Blink or breathe.
It keeps running at night.
The subconscious consumes power.
Often leaving the mind tired at the break of dawn.
When it meets people,
it reads the signs at many levels.
Subject of talk,
Body language.
Positivity of the vibes,
The way the person jives.
A handshake.
A wink.
A hug.
A swiftly made jug*
It notices everything.
In all this processing.
It accumulates a lot of clutter!
And the mind with all the confusing thoughts,
becomes like hot butter!
Sparks fly like an electronic of fire!
And it needs something to distract it.
What works best is a bit of exercise.
A bit of chattering,
Or writing it all out.
Some find solace in Games or Movies.
Why do they work?
Because they engage all senses,
And make the mind groovy.
Smoking and doping do great too.
But reducing the processors of our mind to grade two!
Hallucinating and dreaming 80% of it.
The mind thinks its being more productive that most of it.
But illusions destroy us further.
Making the mind believe it’s just another wonder.
Wonder though it is.
Using only 10% of it we create,
Science, History, Mystery,
But this wonder has a lot on bate.
If it goes in the wrong direction.
Even thinking too much is an addiction!
Original thoughts are like endorphins to the mind.
Making it jump and do cartwheels inside.
Stimulating discussions are named that way,
Because engaging in one makes us jumpy all day.
It satisfies the mind that,
I have done something constrictive besides,
Whiling my days in sorrow,
and waiting for the morrow.
Mind is like a baby that need attention,
if not given that it runs in all directions.
Mind is a super computer that needs,
the dedication of a programmer.
Be that programmer and feed your mind the right numbers,
And see it become the eighth wonder!
*Jug- short for juggle.
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 2:51 PM UTC
Tangled by reeds
in the trash-ridden bay
of sunny Acapulco,
I brush your hair.
Dried gel
builds under my nails
and satisfies me.
You dive with me
into the ocean of fire
to wash our hands.
My heart beats red;
Leaking, it soaks
your white playera
It hangs high and dry,
but will never wash clean.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC
421
A Charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld—
The Lady dare not lift her Veil
For fear it be dispelled—
But peers beyond her mesh—
And wishes—and denies—
Lest Interview—annul a want
That Image—satisfies—
4.9k
Masters of the Universe,
three and some,
nearly four
months tween
me and you
that words
interchanged,
prayers,
asking for the answering job
which was handily God-to-Man
transferred, transfused
tween you and
me
a/k/a
Job...appropriately
you may recall
I was the bloke
who immodestly spoke,
asking any and all
circulating deities,
to tender
their resignations
post-haste,
immediately
for failure to do
the appointed rounds
well enough to this
human's satisfaction
now don't go high hopes expecting
a large confession
about how hard,
ya see it really is
tending the flock be...
nope
I ain't here to beg of you,
take this onerous
from my shoulders!
no, no, capitulation,
my track record
maybe not much better
than what went before,
but you know what I'm about to say,
cause you are perfect
well I still don't like
what satisfies your perfection definition
for my fellow humans,
so I'm keeping this job/Job,
for another few months,
cause I am.
Human
enough to know
that humans keep on trying
and you just gave up
and said let them do what they want
between human to human,
as long as they pay us obeisance
I put sins of
man to fellow man
as my número uno priority
and if the number of prayers diverted
back to you,
in your inbox receiving,
are just the
dues paying kind,
keep'em,
I got more important things to do...
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 9:44 AM UTC
*My BELOVED, I am not at fault
If LOVE happened between us
You took my heart away & now
Why are YOU offended by my LOVE?
You have become me, my Nature
Nothing else satisfies me
Oh, I am a mad LOVER of yours
Who will understand my LOVE?
I am in LOVE even with the dust
Below your feet on which you walk
You are the one who makes
Everyone dance around you
On your finger tips
Just be aware and awake to my LOVE
YOU are the only one to heal me now
Just come and give me a glance
And save me from this mundane life
My BELOVED, do not forget that I am
Meera, Rumi, Rabia (BELOVEDz) of yours
Zuliet, Layla, Heer (LOVER) of yours
You are my BELOVEDz
You are my LOVERz
You the beauty of everything
Existing in nature
I do not want wealth, power, fame
I only want YOU my LOVE
I do not believe in GOD/dess
YOU are my only ALL MIGHTY
My past, present, future
Your LOVE "is" all the TIME
Roaming all over the world
My BELOVEDz, I finally reached here
I still hold my last / final breath
Show me your face one more time
I've come to your doorsteps of heart
Knocking your inner core - SOUL
With lots of hope for Eternal LOVE
Why your eyes are filled with tears?
Why are you crying dear
Seeing me hopeless in YOU LOVE?
Now promise me
YOU will never ever think
Of going away from me
You are my coracle, my Noah
Take me across this ocean of fire LOVE
And let me sleep forever in your lap
Let me float in fluids of your womb
And be born again as "us"...
Let us dance swirl in our LOVE to COSMIC BLISS*
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 11:56 PM UTC
~dedicated to the old poets here~
the addictive pairing of certain words, a line,
a lyric, slap-snapping you to full attention,
unfailing decades of instant recognition,
an adrenaline + caffeine shot that powers
a chance, a tensile injection that causes
the lips to commence a new choreography,
the fingers to tap, a jumbled, hurried, embattled
disorderly mess that regenerates, reformulates,
concords into agreement, a harmonic consistency
a geometry of many differing angles that equate
a hard physical, a soft mentality in a singled work,
coexisting in a sacred state of singed confluence,
though imperfect, satisfies mathematical boundaries
of a random outpouring, crowning the stripe inspiring
the spark that finally satisfyingly silences an ignited
filament a-glowing for years, that holy happens
to cross your antennae, fulfilling the need to honor,
the sacred geometry of chance, the honor to need,
the joy of saying, at last, this unwritten debt, paid!
————————————————————————-
(1) a favorite of many years, a lyric from “The Shape of My Heart” by Sting
(2) Dec 3 2020 2:53pm NYC
Dec 3, 2020
Dec 3, 2020 at 2:59 PM UTC
I am your dark side
A cold wave of destruction
In the night of your soul i hide
Whispering sweet ****** temptation
Your blood feels thin
As i clutch at your heart
To your fear, give in!
Before i torn you apart
You'll pray & hope to resist
Closing your eyes, clenching your fists
For the voices to finally desist
A feeble faith to stand alone amidst
Brain wrapped in chains
Consciousness fades away
You break all restrains
A murderous rage you obey...
Envy, Lust, Wrath, all will begin
As you fall into the abysses of each of these sins
Swallowed in flames, you'll burn from within
Hate oozing from each pores of your skin
While the night reigns
Hunt down your preys
Their blood filled veins
Soon spilled away
You will **** their souls
Invade their bodies & mind
As your ripper within howls
Hellish wrath & lust combined
You will rip them open
Crotch to chin
Tormented in pain
With a cold blade of steel...
Dark blood gushing out on your face
Their screams filling your ears
An ****** of furry you will taste
Crying a liberated flow of tears
On their lungs, you shall carve your name
As they breathe you until their last moment
A death they will meet so inhumane
For your own twisted amusement
Breathe in their fumes
Of their grossly opened guts
Sickening stench inner perfume
Steaming out from a thousand cuts
Life leaving their eyes
As sun rays come to rise
Your inner beast satisfies
By the blood lust of their demise
Your humanity to awake
As your Demon asleep & gone
The horror of your deeds taking shape
Oh tell me, tell me, what have you done?!
Razor claws & fangs that gnash deep
Hold the Bible & grab a crucifix
For the Demon back again as you try to sleep
Night after night reborn as the Phoenix
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 4:28 AM UTC
525
I think the Hemlock likes to stand
Upon a Marge of Snow—
It suits his own Austerity—
And satisfies an awe
That men, must slake in Wilderness—
And in the Desert—cloy—
An instinct for the **** the Bald—
Lapland’s—necessity—
The Hemlock’s nature thrives—on cold—
The Gnash of Northern winds
Is sweetest nutriment—to him—
His best Norwegian Wines—
To satin Races—he is nought—
But Children on the Don,
Beneath his Tabernacles, play,
And Dnieper Wrestlers, run.
2.8k
Everything: pronoun.
a.) every thing of particular of an aggregate or total; all.
This is what I’m told you are
but I’ve never been one for deities.
You hear my thoughts
but command me to speak.
You know my human ways
but still expect to have me all to yourself.
You’re jealous- a “jealous god”
but I’m to believe you’re perfect?
The book says your ways are higher
but the coincidences and rules
that surround your mystery
just don’t add up enough for me.
Enough: adverb
a.) in a quantity or degree that answers a purpose or satisfies a need or desire; sufficiently.
I have a desire to change,
I have a desire to love,
hell, I want a Ferrari!
I don’t have those so are you
really enough if I use the book definition?
But, no, seriously, some people are starving
while others cant stop killing
or lying or stealing or hating.
Are you enough for them too?
Im still waiting,
but we at least have that in common.
They say you are too.
“They” being the activists, the followers, “yours”
and yet you’re still waiting for surrender.
Surrender: verb
a.) to yield to the possession or power of another; deliver up possession of on demand or under duress
You want me ever so much
-or so I’m told.
When I want something
I have to ask or initiate.
Where are you?
Are you planning on ever
speaking to me or asking?
Where is your humility
to simply ask?
Waiting for what you don’t ever request
is more foolish than I ever assumed
a deity of great power and might
could be.
You astound me for sure,
but not in a good way.
I thought the zealous screamed
something about you being the definition
of everything,
but I don’t seem to be able to define you that way at all.
I ask these questions innocently,
yet still I hear no response.
Did you perhaps,
in your infinite wisdom
create the world
and forget to give yourself a voice?
Feb 1, 2010
Feb 1, 2010 at 4:56 PM UTC
Sight of mine dulled to nothing but red.
My aching fingers bleeding from the splayed out shards of glass.
Time and time again, this feeling will never truly fade.
The destruction that eases into every walk that I take.
The pent up pain that does not soothe
It only comes in waves of doubt and an ache that runs deeply through my body.
I can only sit in silence and wait for it to wash over as the never-ending wrath bounces in the corners of the room.
No freedom found as I keep myself from lashing out.
My blood keeps dripping around my pooling ire.
To lock up such a monster that laps away at every upset and disappointment
There really is no telling when
The day it stops rocking back and forth the dark curtained bedroom I try to subdue it in.
The day my warm blood no longer satisfies the steely blue light that edges its existence.
And the way it bounces off of the crystal shards coated in crimson beneath my hands.
Alcohol has never truly worked for me as much as I wished it did.
What do I do when there is nothing I can do?
How will I cope when I can no longer keep from being violent?
-Kore
Mar 23, 2021
Mar 23, 2021 at 2:44 PM UTC
i hope, i try to hope
--to believe--
believe me, i try
to trust in trust i think i feel, or think or know
there isn't any code that satisfies
though maybe there's an uber-uber-ultra-meta code beyond what even codes can mean?
meh.
i enjoy the hypothetical,
Paris in a bottle, fairness for all sentient beings, faith in nothing comprehensible,
an English teapot circles Jove from afar
or all that's uncontrollable, for some all-purpose good to decorate the brackish, ocean truth.
and uncertain science is another case,
mistrusting all, testing daring thoughts with razor sight,
to sharpen speech and challenge all
to flex the truth into a fitness ground on which to stand, objective stern
and method doubt to peer and scan the detail bare, denude minutiae
into ever smaller parts, expanse of raw and empty space attuned,
to vibrant nothingness rebound
muons, gluons, tauons, quarks and bosons --Higgs the boon for popular appeal,
to bridge or monumentalize the science-mystic gap
appall the ghosts that Galileo keeps for company
i enjoy the fantasy,
dragons in a flask, perfect love for all, dancing in the dark in joy regardless of the shutter thicken dust
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 12:39 AM UTC
It came in the form of a memory,
Of all the sweet things you've ever said to me,
Keeping me deep within the dream I've been living,
And you know something babydoll?
(Yes, I've decided to call you babydoll, for it satisfies the southern in me)
You're the drug I could never stop taking,
The rule I could never stop breaking,
And the hunger I could never satisfy,
(For I never get enough, you see)
And something else, cutie pie,
That I could never stop telling you,
Is that without you, my heart would stop beating,
It would simply forget to function without your love guiding me,
And something else I can't help but mention,
That you my love, are the sun to my shine,
The words that I make rhyme,
And my only reason left to smile,
Yes you, my dearest darling,
My Prince Charming,
The one who swept me off my feet,
When I was sure I had fallen,
Unable to get up,
For you, my sweethearted lover,
The only one I'd trust talking to my mother,
Without subtle guidance,
You said you wanted a nickname,
So don't take just one,
Take a million, I've got an endless supply to give,
For that is how much you mean to me,
And maybe, just maybe, one day,
When we're old and grey,
Sitting on a park bench feeding birds,
Who carelessly fly away,
Maybe I'll hand you this poem,
And a list of nicknames,
The paper will be yellow and faded,
And crumbled every which way,
And that's how you'll know I've been adding on for decades,
And once in a while I'll ask for it back,
To add on the ones I've thought of as time passed,
And I'll tell you this now, my sweet,
That paper will be filled,
And pages apon pages will be added,
For there are not enough nicknames in the world,
To tell you what you mean to me,
For that, there aren't enough nicknames in the galaxy,
Just like there aren't enough stars in the universe,
To tell you how bright you make my life,
But if you look hard enough,
You may just see it in my eyes,
Past the constant worries of day to day life,
Freddie Mercury once wrote,
"Can anybody find me, somebody to love?"
Well I'll be the one to write,
Hey, I've found somebody, and boy, is he something,
No, scratch that, he's not just something,
He is my everything,
And without him,
I'd be nothing.
Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
I'm sorry, I don't remember you, what was your name? Funny how you can't remember who I am yet you were my world at one point.
An introduction wil sufice, my name is sea, yours must be moon because I'm steady drawn to you while you taunt me with your perfection.
bless me with the smile I'm used to and I may give you the carress of which you've been forgetting so it may jog your memory.
Do you still not recognize me? Perhaps a slight lock of the lips... Welcome back love, I've missed you far too much.
If only life were as simple as the above described, maybe then I might see her. The soul of a butterfly, the heart of a pheonix, yet a love with the strength of a thousand hearts.
She is my counterpart, a taboo to none but I, She.. the... god. My goddess of whom I've been missing. I welcome her with an open heart and a spacious view of her love.
I get on my knees in worship of my goddess, only to thank the lord for her. My personal blessing and I shall pay homage to her every chance I get.
To hold her, you can't imagine. She's the warmth of the sun, the sweetness of a black cherry, the softness of fresh picked cotton, yet ironically as cool as a glass of ice water to one parched and decrepit.
I'm in love, no, yes, no. What's the conflict? Why does it matter?
Am I not a the earth? Is she not a moon to me, or beter yet, an extension of my personal self? She satisfies the need for intimacy better than those before her and yet I can't think straight. Is this supposed to happen?
Mutual love. What I needed, she provided like a mother and child. Yet we're still at a disconnect.
She said we're romeo and juliet, did she not see the ending? or did that tell all I needed to know? I think not. She was a representation of what the heart wants, and the heart wants what it wants.
Sugar brown placid beauty, rest your head once more on my shoulders as we rest in a sunset meant for the long-hall and discuss what is meant to be of our distantly close relationship.
Pray we make it and kiss me goodbye, for when all is said and done no games shall we play but still bet it all against the odds.
Do you remember me? Nevermind colleague, we are in a multi-verse all our own.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC