"togather" poems
hey handsome with african features that brought me home
i used you for what its worth. hearts that never twined togather
kissing you was a pleasure of mine. growing weak with every moment
loving you never experienced. *** with you was me comparing
hey handsome with african features that brought me home
confused wanting to trust, love. as i try to let go only pushed you further
we held each other hostage that night your hands touched my soul
hey handsome with african features that brought me home
its good bye for now until the stars line up and you are found
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 6:32 PM UTC
Memories like you dont always shine true.
Nor do old places hold that magic.
In a life so short.
That seems so traggic.
Im thinking of forever while slowley fading away.
Oh such clear thinking on a cloudy day.
A summer ago is when we met.
So far now it seems.
Yet the still my heart holds no regret.
The poetry you inspired apon this very page.
Is ment to complment a love without age.
Early morning memories that you've lent.
Is simpley a dream of time well spent.
A dark sky hides the sunlights ray.
Such is the clear thinking on such
a cloudy day.
Im not blind yet for years
hope has went unseen.
Sometimes age can taint a sweet dream.
Turning bitter the once colorful
fruit.
Killing wonder straight at the root.
A love like our's has kept with change.
And grown in definance.
Like a silly game.
We formed this this passion swept Alliance.
First with love you must blindly fall.
Then you must try to run when you
can bareley crawl.
To outlast the storms is to stand against the wind.
To ignor friends and to put trust in
a stranger and depend.
Many thoughts run through my head.
In the early morning as she lay against me
in bed.
A heart has many rivers a soul is a endless sea.
As we apart we are caged.
While togather we are free.
From this loves eternal bliss my heart should never
stray.
As i sit clear is my thinking on such a cloudy day.
Oct 20, 2009
Oct 20, 2009 at 7:55 AM UTC
The cop asked me for my license to which
I replied what the hell is that.
Officer Tillman I belive i met your wife in a restroom
down at the laundrymat.
She didnt do ya justice.
Cause you arent all that ugly
but you are kinda fat.
No my last name isnt Knoxville but I
sure had some fun in Tennessee.
Met darlin that left a burnin feelin behind just for me.
My life is like a tweenty four hour cartoon.
A wreckless wonder.
If ya wanna ride along theres always room.
Gotta babydoll I often reffer to as Tinker.
She's my favorite semi insane funsize drinker.
Got a amigo or two.
Some fake ID's cause some people just happen to be looking
for me.
I thought you already knew.
Some people like to hate.
Clive. Forrest. Ian.
Dont be jelouse your still living togather in the same basement
no hope ever having none inflatable
date.
Iv'e taken some pretty hard licks.
Put my mind in a blender .
Now all im left with is becon bits.
Im the Jackass of poetry alone I hold the crown.
Some might call me a village idoit.
But I would say im most fun fella in town.
And if ya read this work and still cant see.
You can go to hell.
And thats one thing apon me my imaginary friends
and my little badass tinker agree.
Oct 18, 2009
Oct 18, 2009 at 11:55 AM UTC
Ever see two sappy ****** in the a park holding hands no ******* clue there on the verge of sugar coated
insanity that twisted mind **** known as love.
Yeah you ignore all the warnings of sanity ***** it im in love!
You just cant get enough of each other you **** like two rabbits
and it's perfect but thats never good enough the way it is.
Oh **** no cause then after you sample ya gotta commit and unlike suicide
there isnt a happy ending.
Then one of you starts to wonder hey ya think are they cheating?
Well if they are tahn im sure as hell going to!
Like two kids you have to out do the other.
Hey I ****** your sister!
Yeah well I ****** your brother and your ******** cousin.
Yeah now it makes sense why he's been so dam happy.
Love is the poisen that ***** up the pie children like it or not it is.
It's like the sober ***** at the party who usedto be fun till he found Jesus
or some other superhero and wants to tell you how better his life is now.
When all truth the guy wants to crack you over the head steal your beer
but his head between a pair of big tit's and say **** being sober lets drink till we hit the floor.
Yeah sure you may think Im a ***** and that love is everything thjat makes this marble roll.
Yeah and if thats so Santa Claus is coming to town and he's bringin Elvis and Tupac and there
gonna have ******** with Lady Ga Ga While Scooby Doo films it.
Love does exist of course.
Sure I see the old farts who been togather for so long they dont even have to tell
each other how much they dislike the other.
Love is a moment nothing more.
And like red wine in the hand of some old lush you just pray
it doesnt get spilled on the carpet cause it's hell to get out.
But for the young and horney out there enjoy the fun that happens befor that
std kicks in cause kids sometimes love hurts and really ****** burns.
Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 3:31 PM UTC
Once
A man with broad vision
dreamt...
About the land of pures
Then
a man with excellent leadership skills
stood up to fulfill
the first man's dream
he gathered the scattered people
he fought for what was
righyfully ours
he turned the rouges into NATION
Togather they
suffered
sacrificed
bled
but yet the remained strong
holding each others back
against the cunning enemy
they were pure by heart
they had the golden soules
faith was running in their veins
thus they were granted
after years of hardship
with the most beautiful gift
the first man's dream was now a reality...!!
the man who dreamt IQBAL
the man who lead JINNAH
the land of pure PAKISTAN
the nation created PAKISTANIS
and this is OUR story !!
Independence Day !!
PROUD TO BE A PAKISTANI !!
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 8:30 AM UTC
I looked at the room broken bottles blood fragments of clothes.
maybe a tooth from somebody not fast are to drunk to get outta the way of a conversation turned bad.
The juke box had almost made it threw but it just had to
play that one song that caused it to become a target
for a flying cue ball.
And I herd someone speaking to the toilet I thought maybe
I wasnt that hungry after all.
As to what caused the riot slash the human tornado of fun I cannot say
But in my opinion that jukebox had it coming always playing the wrong songs at the right time no one likes a ********
And that drag queen could sure throw a mean left hook.
While looking fierce and lip sinking to madonna at the same time that my friends take true talent .
Seems as though the register had went on vacation but they
left the wild turkey and pretzels thank god happy hour was almost apon us.
And theres nothing worse than telling a proffesional drinker as myself
theres no snacks it's like tellinga kid theres no santa claus.
And that big fat guy in the red suit with his little dwarfs
were really just some of momies friends.
I always wondred why santa was so into getting the crap beat outta him
by a woman in a latex outfit calling herself mistress Claus.
Yes coffee always made things better mixed with some of my personal corn whiskey yeah grandpa may went insane and herd voices from drinking the stuff but at least he always had someone to talk to.
As I looked at the chaos that was my headquarters memories came to me in a flood the booth were I met my first wife.
that same booth were i caught her with my best friend and worst enemy and santa i swear he gets around.
So much for online dating dam you napster.
I should just stick with street walkers and circus people.
And I think after my tweenty first DUI
that it was good i never had a license to start with.
cause i really hate losing anything.
It's a shame about my mind.
So really other than this little get togather turned riot turned
love in turned back to brawl turned into
big kid slumber party.
It was after the jukebox had to put in it's two cents
that it all turned to ****
For nothing kills the mood worse than a bad song
at the right time.
Love always Dr Gonzo
Mar 5, 2010
Mar 5, 2010 at 3:43 PM UTC
Red ribbons around the streetlights.
The lights from the commadore theather
are a reflection of the past.
Coblestone streets the historic district across the water
buildings are lit haunting shadows over the water.
Once a year closed streets seem to travle back in time.
Roasted penuts street corner preformers.
Familys togather homeless on benches not all is beautiful and bright.
Sweet city so cold and gritty.
Christmas lights like neon signs call to my jaded soul.
Horse and carrige ride down by the water.
New lovers getting lost in the moment an season.
I sit apon the steps of the old church share a bottle with
My new best friend smells of the city echo back to another time.
Lights and sounds reflect a holiday on highstreet.
Hands held togther when in another life it seems you
were mine.
Cold are the streets carols fill this night.
If only more than once a year.
We could embrase this spirt.
Then trap it for one peaceful day.
The traffic apon Highstreet is is slowing
The festival crowd is fading.
The bottle of christmas cheer is almost gone
so along with the I must be going.
Oct 19, 2009
Oct 19, 2009 at 10:45 AM UTC
Its always in goodbye we taste what is the essense of that scar called love.
Pain in nature and no words can capture remorse as well as a milepost in a reaview of thought.
It was there we togather once called home now like a tombstone it stands a marker of what was never to be.
Fracture of heart and bitterness my seal.
Im the leftovers of another we can cleanse this logic or simply say ***** it all and regress.
Forever a lie to the young and a curse to the old.
Has it burned this earth and killed me to all that dare to know
what I could never explain.?
A dance of years now a thought no drug has yet to erase.
Pills aside your drug was the best poisen ive known even with another I
know paradise was a cancer ive long since left behind yet a simple moment can make me slide
into a vice that will see me fall for the last time till next.
Im the clown that circus left behind.
Now a skeleton for home I ask why leaving takes a milestone and emptyness a downpour
as my desert has long stayed dry.
Read the riddle like a oinion pealed only more layers remain.
hell has welcome thought for ive found more toture here.
Voices haunt my thoughts as emptyness thrives inmy existance.
Its has misreble as when we knew each others love please drown so I can
breath life into this wornout frame one last time.
Winter's chill reminds me of what we never had yet again.
People often question what has no meaning to begin with.
As for me I avoid its poisen a scared child hidden in shadow of a
lesser man.
Nothing stands as a reminder of pages wasted in promise of a day that never came.
Sometimes I view that place were we were more than a bad memory and a traggic vice.
Sometimes I yern only for end to what has never been allowed to begin.
The worst prison of all is the mind.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 2:04 PM UTC
No Matter The Floor You Pass Out On
I awake as any other madman slash poet.
Apon the floor naked pizza box for pillow a members only jacket for a blanket.
yes the libary sure has changed over the years.
less and less people were reading buggets were cut meaning
libraryies were under staffed and rarely did anyone dare venture into
the stacks and thank good for that. Cause being i preffered free sleeping
it was probaly for the best.
but no matter the the floor you pass out on most all fine
american men wake up with are god given birth rite.
That which after a trip to the restroom like
that early morning madness that was christmas pressent openning
was over way to fast and was kinda disapointing.
Floors werent the best beds in the world in fact they
****** altogather but drinking and common sense dont even
belong in the same room togather.
Portsmouth Va was a strange world indeed a place where upscale colided with skidrow.
Me I preffer the company of a outdoor sleeper to that of a
spoiled spoon fed yuppie ****
the art school cranked out angst ridden buble people by the second.
They walked the street soaking in the pain of life.
there heads stuck so far up there ***** I always felt compeled to trip them as they walked by.
acting as though they were outsiders yerning to be mainstream
they'd **** there mothers on a mtv reality show as dad cried in the background.
Just for a taste of stardom.
True talent who needs that?
but no matter the floor you pass out on one
thing was clear.
In a world were you could have a bus load
of kids and get paid for it.
fame wasnt such a rare thing anymore.
The floor I passed out on was cold and cruel but surrounded
voices from the past.
the floor these hollow reallity show bottom feeders
passed out on. Had to besoft as there heads.
Otherwise there brains would splatter across the floor.
And some TV exect would have a brainstorm to have a show
were washed up celebrities would have a contest.
To see who could bore us the most with there sob story
Yes friends id rather have a pizza box for a pillow
than a reality show pillbox for a brain.
and the truth effectsus all form no matter
which floor so you do choose to pass out on.
Dec 11, 2009
Dec 11, 2009 at 7:12 AM UTC
Long after my injust exhile from this site I began a time of deep thinking.
And after many cervasas and long nights with ***** women I thought.
Where is my life going besides to the free clinic every other day to cure
the ******* of fire.
It was then I remembred a wise amigo a man amoungst many men
not because he was strange they just happend to all gather togather in that spot.
Unlike a bathhouse once I only went to a few times to have some male bonding
time and to enjoy a nice backrub.
But enough with my college years.
My once mighty amigo told me.
******** dont ever let them hold you back for the evil forces are many
yet you cant **** crazy well maybe with a gun but that would take many bullets amigo.
It was then i knew I must return to the land of Hello.
To bring joy to many and annoy young teenage writers who think vampires can walk around in daylight and werewolves run in large packs with other amigos in Alaska.
How I wish i lived there as well.
It had been far to long since this gravyard of like button zombies had taken off
there pants turned off the lights and had a hot oil ****
At least I hope that was oil.
It had been a cold summer south of the boarder but that doesnt mean there wasnt fire down below.
Much like with older women.
So I packed the pinto and like a really fast minded person moving at a well
much slower gear I was off.
For where there is a need there is well a place people
probaly want something to suit that need.
So spank my spandex wearing *** and call me MR Pickles.
Cause The ******** has returned amigos.
Ole!!!
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 3:46 PM UTC
The sweat from her skin but a creation of passion.
In the rapture of plessure no prisoners taken.
Rage made passion, plessure made the moment.
Inside from the storm the encounter was torment of the best kind.
The bed creaked as a ****** end would only inspire more vivid
desires.
More than *** was a moment of two bodies colliding
on the plessure cast road to release.
Flesh meeting and all false manners cast aside
the primal motives always kick in.
Her body was a shared experience theater for
of a wicked plessure.
Her skin pure in such a jaded since.
Tommorow would the moment be lost in some sort
of awkward rythm of stillness.
Two stranger's who need reason to meet.
Or would the true self speak above the moral code.
The drink of life I so wish to drown within tonight.
Naked thoughts bared scars.
We would venture back to circles her's would view her
a ***** for knowing happiness.
And mine would yern to only hear of conquest but
see in mirror and dream with deaf ear.
It was a plessure to embrace chaos.
So may we drown togather again.
Feb 14, 2011
Feb 14, 2011 at 8:15 AM UTC
Take this hand.
May I guide you within the depths?
So traggic to view her this way.
White in a doll of china's mask of death.
Tormented did a candles light cast doubt's with no hand to grasp
a wrist bled slow.
Tea leaves and incense.
Masked air of rosemary the record scratched and was inturn
left unherd.
Thoose eye's captured want yet
never could clasp a heart or lockets match.
Was it as planned?
A slow regression into a blackend fade.
A cloth over lamp.
It dimmed the light but never the flawed beauthy.
that I knew well.
Sleep in a life none would yern to awake.
My heart did linger in a thought as overcast skies blue eye's
did paint my thought's gray.
Cold was perfection a raindrop viewed from inside.
I kissed you last as first I bid farewell.
That night you took from many yet only thought as one.
A tormented love a single rose.
So tender you were stained of many.
But a portraiht to me.
Your words a soon to be epitapth of my pain cast memory.
Thank you for never seeing me as so many befor.
Many works of art are cast in pain.
Dove's of life often cry a tear when met to dirt.
I held you close once apon a empty floor only not tight enough.
Music that cast a passion lights so dim often gliow with soul.
I see you now and think of that time.
Tender in a stone that is a chamber I call my heart.
I wish I could have brushed away the pain.
As I did a hair that night from your face.
Thoose eyes a void of passion life often does ****
If you had taken that hand would we have found ourselves?
Or simpley lost it togather in a vague chance at bliss?
I remember you still.
A painting of a woman known to many but who's heart
was shared only with me.
That moment apon the bar's empty floor forever fill's my
thought's
Sep 9, 2011
Sep 9, 2011 at 7:17 PM UTC
In a little roadhouse off the beaten tracks is where I did find her.
She was riding with the hells angels till they kicked her out for being to ruff.
And yet at seventeen the way she could down a budweiser and burb hello ******
Was a site to be held and i thought to myself
as she broke a pool cue over a man's head who played a song she didnt
like I knew i had met the woman of my dreams.
Sure she drank like a fish cussed like a sailor and hit like a frieght train.
But aside from all thoose good qualitys I like in a woman she did have her hang up's.
Its kinda bad when your first date involves knocking over a seven eleven and leading on
the cops on a five state chase.
And Im not bitter she didnt slow down to let me off.
Im mean the road rash wasnt that bad and I needed to drop a couple of pounds
of course it gives a whole new meaning to burning off the pounds.
And when I saw her about two months later I could tell there was something
there as she held a knife to my throat and looked into my blood shot eye's
and said.
Im gonna cut out your tongue out if you dont buy me a beer.
Yes this beer drinking spitfire had me at hey what the **** you lookin at ****** ?
What a true lady indeed.
Yes when i finally came outta a coma after that first night togather i knew.
That i probaly shouldnt drink outta open containers.
Or carry cash or major credit cards.
When going out with a five foot three spifire named Skeeter.
Mar 19, 2010
Mar 19, 2010 at 5:56 PM UTC
As a canvas of naked beathy I trace every curve loving every moment when her sweet skin is pressed against
mine.
Her moans A music to fill the darkness of a passion filled night.
Kissing lips tasting the sweetness of desire her body the vesssel of my love.
Inside the softness are plessure building her love free as inside her i drive myself
yerning for this moment to never end.
Love is eternal *** is a action that only brings us togather as one.
A storm of emotions and a valley of plessure as we explore are bodys
togather one night of many of a eternal passion.
Her legs around my waist back against the wall bodys apart souls togather.
her plessure my passion sweat laced slumber as togather we came.
as in gentle slumber i brush her hair aside from her neck.
marvle at my angel so sweet within my arms.
As she turns to me looking so deeply beyond all i am not.
And seeing her lover and her friend she takes my inside her
as we make love through the nights plessure casting aside the past and its
pain.
In her eyes I see all that I never knew i could be.
Her eyes that touch my soul and melt the flesh.
Words unspoken her body so perfect as if made for my arms.
This night eternal you've cast over every day.
Julie Elizbeth Robbins.
You know the ocean of my soul and it yerns for you to forever stay.
I could never say everything you are to me Jules.
are road has been long but all I know is that.
you are my passion and the life blood to my soul.
For we know what other's few ever will
love eternal babydoll John.
Aug 1, 2010
Aug 1, 2010 at 12:13 PM UTC
After stage exist do i leave a true self behind?
As the act has taken hold of my existance I view only one out.
With the dust.
Will hidden message be reveled my madness never was there a more true
poisen to pen than vice thats nothing more than the man.
Cheap motel's road trips have taken there toll as ive taken more from thoose with which ive shared a
sin laced night.
Im fine I swear.
And even togather I assure you im alone.
Start out slow just to burn out fast.
Empty the glass washed down pills and forgotten conversations
the jokes a cruel subject may I be your life's teacher?
Emptyness Inc. hollow my hall's least it's better than some
self righteous fool who has been left to preach.
A cheap **** and a firm shake.
You cant run with wolves and stay the lamb.
Uppers to wake ***** to slow and coke to understand its somehow it's gotta end.
Im sorry next time i'll call only to show the sadist within.
Pray they cant view the sweats man he truely lives his act or is his addictions living as what
he once knew to be him?
Moments I breath only to sink underneath waters drowned are my demons
care to hear there thoughts clear?
A angry voice lives behind vice can i calm this storm how can I grant safe passage?
When I cant even stand in the slightest wind?
Another night and still they ignore it because they hate to comfront for fear they'd taste the razor of tongue and face vice's all there own.
Art in any form should never be safe.
Hello she answers waitting for the line within mind
she know's will probaly sooner than later be read.
I cant say something I can never feel.
Remorse is great for hero's.
Im happy to be your villan.
Another town it's always a old scene.
Were the ****** up circus come to fuel a always burning ego driven fire.
A hot night a devil's pornagraphic scene.
What the dust leaves no true care of a honest ******* I fear none but myself.
May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 1:25 PM UTC
Blood on my hands doesnt wash clean as that from my mind.
in temptation we did bask for moments in despair I know
all to well.
A fool to imagine a ghost but in a less than empty room.
Sweet girl dont try to see beyond that which laughs befor you.
Im a shipwreck in low tide.
A vessel to long ive tasted time in it's bitter affliction.
A page away from a traggedy a night less in thought.
Behind the mask you'll find no reason.
Strangers we shall remain togather in this bed.
My words nothing more than fragment of a driffters heart.
Black and white images sharp tell stories i do not
wish to share.
Wine glimmers in crystal by the fire's light.
Towards a lesser man you lean to fill a need.
****** of the pen bleeding in thought.
The night's end and a comfort does point without direction.
The shoe if worn isnt all it seem's to be.
Ive cast stones breaking emotions to uncover all
that isnt me.
Sharing less more than friction then with light i'll trace
curves never speaking in my lies truth.
Im a ******* but least im real.
They want a devils fire in trade of a moments
encounter to seethe picture for what it is seldome is as
beautiful as dellusions of a dream.
Moments no matter there timeframe always stay.
like scars there forever on display.
I take pictures only in thought and paste secrets of beauthy apon
my minds cluttred wall.
Whispers of passion regrets I cherish so dear.
Shared a nights velvet inside more than thought.
Although in this moment i share space.
Im never truely here.
And in mornings light just maybe happines in thought.
leaves the warmth in the emptyness behind.
Althougth far from a companion in flesh within memory
you shall exist in this jaded mind.
Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 4:00 AM UTC
From behind the bar I recall what led me here.
Not to see people fight over spots on a board.
But to bring them togather as friends.
Not drive them apart as enimies.
To see the glass stay full.
And the spirts to bring cheer.
Jokes hold truth.
As the jester I know pain.
Smells of perfume and smoke beautiful eye's
and that invisable desire.
We dance in hope of capturing life.
To embrace in darkness.
The page can never capture the passion
of two lovers spark.
From behind the bar I see life
for more than what others belive it is.
Jokes comfort as the flirt kisses the ego.
Napkins written with numbers passed encounters
promised.
Some never to know the light of day.
Hungover friends gather whiskey laced
plessures with a tinge of regret.
But life is one play my friends that no
single act shall we froget.
The drink sit's neat apon the bar.
You can see blindley for years.
And never know who people truley are.
Drinks as people dont last long.
They gleam the same under neon light.
So friends always mix them strong.
Mar 14, 2010
Mar 14, 2010 at 12:58 PM UTC
young lovers know that traggic passion blind to failure
blind to everything that doesnt see them togather.
So in early morning passion just befor light.
they slip off togather dreams and hope taken along
for the ride.
long brown chessnut colored hair flowing out the window
along with are dreams.
A fence post marker the road togther holds
a certin magic it seems.
Love made from state to state
the waterfall to which we did race
skinny dippin togather by that old forgoten place
Your naked beauty etched within my mind along with
the hapinees reflected from your face.
Broke down in blue springs Missouri.
Now i dont question why your eyes
were overcast with worry.
Apart the nightmare cant erase thoose nights spent
laying in blissful silence your head apon my chest.
Memories depend apon your view.
I 'll just kiss the that jasmine scented southern
breeze for the rest.
My darlin I ask fingers interlocked
with time my heart what shall be
are plan.
A tear touches that vision of a face.
As you recall the memories of when togather we
ran.
Oct 22, 2009
Oct 22, 2009 at 6:16 AM UTC
Ego was the monster that drove you from my arms or was it just another's charm.
It wasnt poetic simply one lights fade to yet another act in a much to dim lit sidewalk's scene.
If you go I wont care so many bitter words stand are refuge of pain togather we shared
it if only for a moment.
Maybe it was a nightmare made possible from a dream.
Maybe it was nothing more than a glimpse at what was never to be.
I closed that door now it seems a shame to view these scars yet once again.
Please dont ever let me leave you.
I recall you asked one of to many fargone nights embrace
I lie to say i could never recall.
Why did it seem like promises were empty as broken hearts games of the grown remain
evergreens of childs play.
Alone I allow you to invade my thoughts one last time.
Sunset from the shore always seemed empty just like are time togather.
Why must you haunt me still.
Watercolors fade still I recall that embrace.
Farewell my friend.
Pain is a burden to you no more.
Sometimes a turned shoulder is all thats left of a deadend street.
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC
I'll leave my resolution as she leaves her
tight black dress apon the floor.
In passion of a ***** tinted kiss.
we'll forget the times to follow if only
in are trainwreck splendor.
Two souls thirsting for contact.
Tearing at one another like children unwrapping
gifts from under the tree.
Plessure is a dream togather were caught willing
victims of a lost night and a years end.
As tommorows starts a year's slow decline.
In her eyes I need only a glimpse to recall.
The madness that was in the streets we
stole a nights most simple plessure.
A private partys afterglow is such a bittersweet
tressure we'll recall togather.
In the velvet of a embrace more than skin did connect.
Within thoose eye's the embers of that private
party for a breif moment does reflect.
As traces of reallity plague the return of the following
day.
One kiss tasting of devilish remorse I caught a whisper of love
But in a shallow moments thought just watched it
walk away.
Dec 31, 2010
Dec 31, 2010 at 1:03 PM UTC
It was in the summer we crashed in a wreck of awkward bodies.
Two drifters lost,
Togather found a demented teenage passion.
Two junkies clean in a dirty thought.
A outcast a ***** far from labels in a rejects refuge.
Runaways stumbling in a confussed state.
We fixed only to share a sweet addiction her lips
still tatse a bitter sweet strawberry in my thoughts
erased I wonder did she ever know?
Broken wings tattred love isnt always true.
Many can have the flesh few a womans soul.
The rain did keep a steady rythm in that abandoned car.
Tracks the needle kisses of exceptance thirst we all
shall in time.
But that is but a watercolor cast eternal
within the vault of my mind.
Held for moment I wonder did you fade cold.
As the epitapth draws blood from thought.
I can only taste my past as you speak gentle in the harshness
of what was then a nightmare of a love i relize now.
Sometimes such treasure's are cast aside.
Lost souls embers of emptyness from this city.
And the backseat from which we did confide.
And if the lines did ever connect and i found you again.
fragments would recall togther it wouldnt know
the truth of my minds lie.
I hold you in thoughts as once i did in arms.
I wonder if only for a moment if you ever knew.
In the ****** up backdrop you were the
one that knew me best.
A jokers thought addicts in nights gentle
dream.
Goodbye honey maybe now you can finally
the peace you so do desserve.
Jan 15, 2011
Jan 15, 2011 at 12:16 AM UTC
Sometimes when i say goodbye.
I wonder how I hold it togather befor
the phone touches the reciever.
Does she know the pain I mask.
Memories make us drunk with emotion.
Time makes us bitter from the cold.
And in the darkness she brings light.
Under the ice she creates warmth.
She kisses the past away.
My shelter in which to run
If I choose to lead so does she follow.
Two halfs of one heart.
Weve walked across broken glass to lay
in a feather bed.
The nights passionet flow
her head apon my chest.
And how could I find one so perfect for me.
Distance takes the heart and traces the tear.
Such comfort brought from the understanding.
That pain would be erased if she were here.
Jules i see that next day as a promise
set in stone.
That from that first hello
we found in one another a reason to never be alone.
The highway rolls into the horizen
eternal is the love.
As a sun sets apon the ocean we stand
my arms wrapped around you waves crash into the shore.
In love I give everything.
For i could spend a lifetime here with you.
And still thirst for more.
With words we struggle to say.
What flows from the pen.
Also bleeds form the soul and that
shall never go away.
Feb 3, 2010
Feb 3, 2010 at 6:59 AM UTC
In tides.
Change is fierce monster often left in shades of a lamb.
No pressense more cruel than that known as love.
Can we lie only to make this illusion so grand not appear traggic in design?
We question are truths beliving are thoughts instead of asking the one beside .
May we share this space only to distance areselves a little more at a time.
Picking apart the reason as in any situation we just always seem to lose track
of what it was that brought us here to begin with.
Anger can only mask my fears so long.
If you never understand then you'lll probaly stand with many.
***** the numbers it's a losing game to speak of to begin with.
Cold as rain in a approaching storm we can ignore the truth
if only to embrace are lies for one last time.
When did I ever become the shell?
A stranger in the wings to my own half thought logic .
Time makes a fool of us all.
As for me I sit without thought for to fight what never will be is a thought of another
The wolves howl at night only to hear themselfs die.
Tommorow you sound of hope in a hopeless void.
People togather in doorways hide from the rain and sometimes find there
placement a blessing.
Some find emptyness a solice I could never explian.
No man could ever be described so simply in one line.
Myself I find a stranger often ive seldom cared to understand.
Im far from the image yet close to the tale.
Maybe storms suit me well a gray sky to a ever distant wind.
Sands bury the traces yet a thought leaves it's mark.
No matter my past ive found eyes still find that dust ridden cover
**** my flaws for the subject is never understood.
For if Heaven were a endless highway id probaly be headed south.
I
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 4:54 PM UTC
Fond memories caught within a sound swirl like smoke rings
in my mind.
Dancing in the shadows of a empty floor.
Closed we are in thoughts times of past need to return.
She questions my words but I answer so very true.
Were actors in the play so overdue to end.
Bottles reflect a glimmer of a feeling I can no longer pretend.
the record skips only to repeat again.
The windows show another broken try,
Forclose the madness happiness for sale if you understand the lie.
I found it a chore not a plessure to speak.
Were togather in misery told to create yet persecuted
in the whim of another.
Broken are the bounds I found nothing to hold true.
The butcher takes the pen the writer has only to breath
to create.
Fight but what of the battle and its failure to end?
The storm has started
But ive gone inside a viewer to the insanity I refuse to play.
Sometimes you have to wipe the slate clean to start new.
The sound tells of a place I no longer wish to recall.
Nov 7, 2010
Nov 7, 2010 at 10:41 AM UTC
So thoughtful in the choice of his words not to hurt anyone feelings,
Why can't you stop beating around the bush.
So humble with everyone and thing always understanding things could be worst.
Why not see situation for what they are . ive come to realize that your the type of guy I can't stand your so one sided not letting my point of view in.
I just want to kick you . Telling you how I feel is giving me a rush,
Better yet being with you is like having a rash one that you scratch until the skin cracks.
And your ******* cuddling drives stevie wonder to see,
to be or not to be was the question whenever we were togather.
Your behavior was unbearable always complementing and asking of my welfare. Even if I told you I didn't care you would just try and fix it another one of your conversations about work it out .
So **** quite you could hear the **** birds cherp when asked any personal questions .
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 5:55 PM UTC