Why are you sad?* I asked, giving him a kiss.
It’s because every time we part,
I always have this longing of
Wanting more time with you, he said.

I always want more of you.
It’s always never enough —
A day will never be enough,
He told me with solemness.

He looked up at me and made a promise:
I promise you I’ll be the man,
The man that will spend all eternities with you
And I won’t ever be tired of it.

I love you, that’s why.
I love you in all the curves and edges —
All the patches and etches
In my temporary body

For now, I’m becoming that man;
Slowly, but I will be.
I’m not saying that I will grab all the stars in the sky
Because then, all the glimmer in you will disappear.

All I promise is,
I will be the man that is right for you.
But for now, I’m only becoming
More than the man of your dreams.

I gave him a shy smile and thought,
You will be the man, I know,
You’ll be the man I’ll spend my entire life with.
*But for now, you’re still my rose bud boy.

I matched the look in his steel colored eyes with my own gaze of determination

The angel Uriel descended in but a thousand broken moments woven together with the distinction of bliss

And he bade unto me in my slipping consciousness...

I could not tear my eyes way even for an eon, the sight to my eyes was a breathe to my lungs - as is a beat is to my heart, to be everything at once,in turn to the nothing I was but a lifetime ago

Could you kiss my soul?
In the way music breaks my heart
Could you sing a song at the footsteps of the eternal himself

His ways, higher

I think I take too much, you say I take too little, still you give as generously as you have before

What is this
That I would bare
My soul to you
With solemness, your eyes
Find me in the dark
Still you see me as I am
But a child
A fragile candle wish
Blown among the known
And wretches of night
To weep with the mindless

How can I return unchanged
To that which bore me
It leaves me in anguish
That which knew me
It let's me go
To those who see, but know too little
Reach with tendrils of hope and fire

Further still you lead me
Through loneliness I am not alone

Riding on the moon
My name is heard
Trying not be blue

The tide of life is high
Sounds of rationality become drowned
By the thoughts of disbelief

Beauty is really overwhelming
Dreaming is a tool for living
Surviving is merely all that is possible

Tonight the breeze of the night
Will cradle the thoughts of my pain
Beauty of the moon will transfix this being
All that will remain is solemness and calm

The shallowness of the frame
Now a day the gray cannot forget the crime
Ease of mind, for that there is time

I never understood why your lips were confined,
To the uninviting flatness of a line.
Or why your presence was lost,
In mundane routine and apathy.
I thought maybe you didn't enjoy my company.
I didn't know if your smiles and laughs were real;
They seemed so ephemeral,
Like stifled strikes of resistance ,
Against your solemness.

When I began to burden the weight of knowledge,
I finally understood the safety of the guaranteed.
When they dismantled your family,
And starved you to emaciation,
You forgot what faith was.
You forgot what love was.
And you forgot the impact you could have on others.
But you would never forget what work was.
Your perseverance accounts for my existence.
For that you are unforgettable.

He's only seen what once had ever happened
but the memories he has decidedly repressed
his eyes have been glued, cemented in with solemness
never again shall they open as they've been sewn shut

The stitches themselves have only ever ached
for the needles were minute and blindingly fast
the holes between each slight and delicate thread
has left aperture trails behind, a kindling to his ****** gloom

Cleaved and lacerated, his lids have splintered
**** filled blood as its only moisturizer
spasmming as it oozes along the crevices of his face
passing marred flesh like vines extending unto forest floor

"Hoc est languor meus
Ego praestolabor in aeternum nam finis"
said he with hand hovering over silver chaliced ****
soon, though he shall weep the golden tear of death upon slab

I write for reality
Whether in intense thought
Or faint mindedness
To comb the brains delicately
Of those I relate to in this world
And of those whom I don't
I do it for the love of it
My soul resignates with life
Hence the name "Poetic Soul"
My alias of divinity
Dubbed to me by nature
Of my mind and moving pen
Which gracefully dances on paper
Gloriously and convivially.

I write to inspire
To enrich my touch
My floating halo
Upon my readers
Within the minds that feel
My every thought
My words waft, they skim
Coasting in the hearts
Of my earthly kinsmen
Just as the words and thoughts
Of my fellow poets
Inspire and encourage me
More strongly and deeply
Than they'll ever realize.

I write for the ease
My seraphic oneness
The ever so calmness
The animation and binding
Of my mind
My force field
My genuine escape
Into my peaceful planet
Whence I flutter freely
As a celestial poetic being
To find solemness
Where I am dominant
Where I find comfort
I emphasize to myself
And further bestow
My many words
To sprout and levitate
As a supernal
To reign as a writer
A born poet
With a soothing soul
For my era and existence
Forever and beyond.

©Michael P. Smith

If every night with you feels so exhilarating
Then maybe this is all I need.
Sometimes I find solemness in the concentrating
Yet occasionally I stumble upon devilish greed.

There are moments that could repeat themselves infinitely
And there are wounds that never seem to clot.
As every dream is marked by winding intricacy
The red slips into the laces and patterns in blots.

Days get longer and shadows grow in length
The perfect melody to an everlasting hunger.
Mindless worries leave as misery turns to strength
We are just a compilation of all but less than blunder, at least I wonder.

When I turn around it seems like you forget
That elastic bounces back at the slightest relief
And the wound upon my back starts to admit
Every moment withers along with the movement too brief.

you spray deadly venom in the form of words
in the direction of which I unsteadily stand

with your intention to maim
my solemness fazes you

for though I am writhing in pain
it hides within me
I will give you no such thing as satisfaction
in the way of your tauntingly soulless heart
having license to see the battle going on inside of me

Unknown is your name
You who burns bright
In the vast and plane pasture.
Stand surrounded
By chosen pebbles
That of which completes your solemness.
Your lone stance that wets
The green beds with brilliant rouge
Draws me ever close
To ponder upon the name
I wonder to be
As dazzling as your appeal.

I call out to you.
And the solemness in your broken irises
I call out to the dust on your hands
That sparkles when your tears fall onto them
How many battles have you fought?
How many times did you run from the rain?
Only to let the wind catch your hair
Like the kites above Kabul streets
How many hopeless dreams turned into nightmares?
Where heartbeats turned into the unspeakable silence
That follows the crushing of the world
Beautiful girl, you bleed out.
And I wonder how I can stop the bleeding
But my bandages can’t wrap your wounds
For they run deeper than the ground
And your child-like laughter
Filled with more life than any man
Echoes in the streets of Kabul
I call out to you
And I hear your silence
As it deafens the world

My head is swollen, my mind it wanders
My tongue is twisted stumbling it stutters
My thoughts are lost in the colliding clutter
My meaning is lost under soft mutters

My smile shields my solemness
My eyes reveal my weariness
My stubborn manner refuses any helplessness
I am a man of a little happiness

I write at night
To share my plight
On some website
Hoping others will give me some insight and tell me that I'm alright.

To my loved ones, I'm sorry I hide this side of me, but you wouldn't understand what's inside of me.
The echoes they bellow and tell me to follow the hollowness, the solemness.

I indite these words in confidence.
Behind this screen cause the outside doesn't need to see my conscience.
I'm a mess in my cranium,
better off inside an insane asylum.

Cell so small theres no room to walk
The days going by with each mark after mark
from a spare piece of chalk
In more ways than one, I'm in the dark.

i.
how do i exist in this skin that your fingertips dug and burned holes in
i shrink away until my ribs poke through
i wish i didn't take up any space at all.

ii.
you stole the sacredness away
stole the air out of my lungs
stole the song off my breath
stole the saltiness of my tears
stole the words from my poetry

iii.
i carry it all
this solemness
this death
this body
this broken home

the solemness
Of lonely gratitude
Cooled long on heights of
Informal platitudes,
Songs sung lazy days
Sights seen pleasures
Rendered, ever grown
Like sprouting tenders,
Concerts won and splendors
Tasted, no one sweeter,
Than the present.
Beyond the lights sensed with
Open eyes taste buds wet
Glistening in starlights
After mint, like
Tendrils from the brown dirt
Reach always up beyond above.
The milk is heaven of the
Graciousness I feel
As the leaves blow
The waves
Make beats
Upon my shore
And birds tweet
And my worries
Sleep.
A mountain head my bed
A cloud my pillow, a sureness
That all is well.