"veiw" poems
My world is full of bright blue skies,
flowers, rabbits, butterflies,
giant mountains, ancient trees,
lands of green and golden seas.
In my world, tears are waterfalls,
and happiness can shatter walls,
anger, the greatest adversity,
while fear defines reality.
In my world, truth is in disguise,
More often, truth transforms to lies,
which i suddenly regard as true,
can red transform if you believe it's blue?
In my world, I see in black and white,
things are either all wrong, or all right,
inbetween is undefined,
and any other veiw is blind.
In my world, words can fragment lives,
and allies wield imaginary knives,
the wounds they cause will never heal,
but pain is vital if you want to feel.
In my world, seasons are hours long,
But still the seasons are just as strong,
From rain to snow, darkness to shine,
Changing with no warning sign.
My world is as beautiful as hideous,
As honest as insidious,
My world is as ambiguous as clear,
and just as gentle as austere.
But my world exists inside my head,
Where your feet will never tread,
And so you can not understand
To you this is my fantasy land.
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 10:14 PM UTC
I want to trust You.
You won't tell me what to do.
I keep seeking You, but You drift further away from veiw.
My life is a ****** up mess and I'm sorry for my life choices and how I dress.
But I'm not sorry for this conversation
I cry out for help and it's like You’re procrastinating.
Leaving me suffering and now I'm hating
My God, my God why have you forsaken?
You were my one true love
As I look to the skies above I cry.
Send me a dove and bring me Your peace
Let me know Your love and that sweet release of peace
Dance with me yet again, my one true friend.
Have I fallen so far that this is the end?
Can You even hear me anymore?
Is it true what they say that God could never love a *****
Am I going crazy and trusting in a fantasy?
No I know You. I know You are real.
Now I question if you care, this isn't fair.
I drop to my knees and bow to the King of Kings
I won't leave until You bless me.
I won't stop calling till You acknowledge me
Stubborn I may well be
If You say to trust you
Do something!
Speak now!
I'm waiting.
Please God don't let me turn away.
When I was broken and so swallowed by fear and didn't speak.
You spoke for me.
When I was filthy and weak
You cleansed me and gave me strength
Now I need that divine power.
Not for me but someone smaller.
Do You not remember?
My beautiful child, the one You gave.
My husband has ran away.
You promised to alway stay
Come to me once again my lover and friend.
Pick me Up and spin
Like You used to.
I will have faith You won't let me fall.
Don't let me walk away.
Save me one more time.
"I am Yours and You are mine"
This is the song I sing to You.
Have you forgotten me Lord?
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 3:16 AM UTC
Maybe I'm meant to be a wallflower,
Watching others grow.
Lurking in their shawdows,
Constantly keeping low.
Maybe I'm meant to be a wallflower,
Plucking my petals one by one.
Praying that maybe I'll be picked,
Cause I have never seen the sun.
Maybe I'm meant to be a wallflower,
It's my destiny to be alone,
I think that by now its obvious,
My future is set in stone.
Maybe I'm meant to be a wallflower,
The shyest of them all.
I know that I will never branch out,
I am meant to stay this small.
Wallflowers can be beautiful,
That I know is true.
And I don't mind being a wallflower,
Because I kind of like the veiw.
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
Hold on, I'll impress you
I'll change your veiw of life
Hold on, I will amaze you
Just wait, don't leave me behind.
I'm growing, I swear
Don't you want to see me change?
I'm so much better, hold on.
Just.. I need time, please wait.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 3:56 AM UTC
if I met my seven year old self today
what would I tell him?
what would I say?
would I warm him of the future
of the bad things yet to come?
or would I leave him to be naive
to keep having fun?
because my seven year old self
believed the world was a perfect place
would he recognize himself
when he looked into my face?
even though I've leaned so much more
and 8 years have passed since then
I would give up everything I have
to veiw life through his eyes again.
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 6:57 PM UTC
This could be my last sunny sky,
No light through the window dancing on by.
This could be the last day I have to shine,
feel that freedom can all be mine.
This could be my last day outside,
No more cages and bars.
This this could be the last joy tear I cry.
This last day happiness is mine.
This could be the last sunny day,
Cloud cover moon,
Goodbye Mr.Sun,never see you soon.
This could be my last sunny day,
No more freedom,locked in chains.
And when tomorrow comes,
Forever may I still be happy.
Foggy grumpy clouds blocking the sun's veiw.
Everyone needs foggy clouds,stars with no lights.
That's why in this new tomorrow,
I'll charise every single night.
This could be my last sunny day,
Truly now I don't mind,
I'll be placed we with the clouds,
Happy to be alive.
If it rains I shall dance,
If it hails,I catch the hail,
If there's starless skies I'll make them,
Slumber in my mind.
Today could be my last sunny day,
but I truly do not mind.
Might as well close the window early,
say Mr.Sun Goodbye
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC
The darkness can embrace the page a silk sheet of verbal perfection .
Empty streets and bars cast shadows that cling in mind like some ship long sailed from port.
Why must they see the end and never fight it's truth ?
We find so little compassion a snow storms emotion has left this summer night
vacant as the motels sign.
Drift for a second with me and i'll show you nothing but flawed perfection in return.
Cats in the garbage winos hold court in the parks distant to the .
The child never should know.
Poets speak in smoke filled rooms of nothing more than a broken souls frustration and second
avenue's false shine a glass charm and a freakshow diamond the ***** a true friend in
times all to often I need.
Whats your sport the streetwalker asks me in such a pure jaded sense.
wash me pilot hands are clean but thoughts seem to stain walls of the union mission
I love its true sense of decay .
Jack are you still on the road or just lost in big Sur?
Bob can they ever decode the message or just set free in the paint you cast as words?
Poets fools profits and second street saints I feel comfort in madness for
sanity's annoying plea just takes up my time.
Are we nothing more than junkies?
Slave to page and the veiw's no matter how blind they may be.
A drunkard , A clown, And a welcome stranger in many a lost souls view.
Charles I can understand your humor in the utter sense of ***** it all and the crued beauthy i reconize so very well.
And a whiskey laced brother kindred spirts seem to go better with southern bourban to
wash it all down.
Now sweetheart im not saying im any good but im always a goodtime.
We have to be ******** to be anything at all.
They all knew as so do I.
Heros gone were never heros at all.
Im the last of my kind hundred proof deadly with a **** eating grin.
Only through others eyes are we truely seen .
So I ask how's your view?
Admire many only to realize your lost in ego's storm.
Few understand and even less care.
Im always here till im truley gone.
Stay crazy friends and remember it's not to be admired.
For heros always must fall.
A breeze in the summers burning heat like many others.
I'll only leave a soon to be taken vacant seat.
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 3:24 PM UTC
It would be so easy to think,
"What the hell is wrong with me?"
But that demands an answer
To a question that's wrongly delivered.
It's not me. It's we.
It's circumstance.
And by chance, when we meet again
It will all make sense
And God forbid
We'll actually make it out
Alive.
We could've been great.
We still can be.
Just not now.
Not like this.
We knew it wasn't right,
But we couldn't resist.
And now I'm the one with the short stick
****** over by circumstance.
And your **** conscience.
Which makes me love/hate you even more.
I know we had to play this out.
But now I just think about
What could've been.
Even though it's not over.
Just paused.
My insecureties flood my thoughts.
Poison my brain.
With pessimism
And unwarrented pain.
******
I wish I could stop rhyming
But I can't.
It's engrained in me.
Like you.
And your old soul.
Your books.
Your words.
Your veiw of the world.
I find so wonderfully parrallel to mine.
I wish you were still mine.
We really could've been something.
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 8:08 PM UTC
She is a small glass vase
With beautiful flowers painted
Hastily on
Only the outside barring paint
She is strong enough
To hold tight
Whatever treasure you put inside
She is beautiful
And perfect to the eye
But if you look closely
You can see
The spiderweb cracks
Where she was dropped
The cracks that scarred but never broke her
The cracks that never heal
She is a canvas
Of pure white
Painted over and over again
To create the perfect image
The one that pleases all
With only few specks
Of her true canvas showing through
She is a treasure chest
Covered in gems and paint
But the beauty of the box
Cannot begin to compare
With the gold within
The gold that is hidden
By the steel lock
That if you force
Will clamp much tighter
But with the perfect key
Will open with ease
To let your eyes
Veiw the rare gift
That is her treasure within
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
yes i know theyre older messagas that im crying so hard to veiw but im not down to jump to preasant cuz it ***** but thank you?
i miss all those mushroom pancakes we named online but thats fine you need a break from all the sugar intake that i seem to give, and ill live without you for now or forever i geuss, if living makes you happy that thats what ill do?
i miss you
Dec 8, 2020
Dec 8, 2020 at 9:16 PM UTC
If I balance on a tight rope
Will my existence be sweeter than if
I topple this way and that
I think my lesson is in trying to stay
grounded whilst still balancing
Maybe I could on occations
topple off and sit awhile enjoying
What lies just past my veiw of thinking
And then maybe you would be so kind
To take my hand whilst I steady myself
Ready for the next topple this way or that
Feb 23, 2011
Feb 23, 2011 at 3:32 PM UTC
Sometimes you gotta get lost to find the emptyness of the true soul.
Bury thoose memories to unearth old truths.
Cut the ties only to return to thoose past relations.
Ive seen the streets erase the picture only to relive the past.
Living ghosts a backdrop eternal.
I cant question thoose night's regrets like a blanket keep me warm
on a humid night.
When all is wrong why cant anything be right.
I'd never curse you utter truths into your lies.
Tainted encounters in many ever changing rooms.
Neon lit dream's sunset of my mind salt water taste the
bitterness we love.
The mountain's veiw is empty and cold.
Have we lost the the spark.
Iced over thoughts leave only shallow promises
to hold.
So I'll push you away only to hold the memory dear.
A coward to live in the pressent.
A living ghost of the man who once stood here.
I've lost track gone so far from all that ive known.
Sparks in the darkness.
Only illusion paint's the reallity sanity grace me life
once more.
I question has it vanished with my time?
Jun 17, 2010
Jun 17, 2010 at 6:02 AM UTC
How many pages til the next chapter in this story of the ages as abominations run amok through the paragraphs stuck in between punctuations like veal in cages.
Somthing twisted is connected like the braided naval vein feeding me from a space I don't try to give a name.
Lines flowing through my system powered by the frame of an electric main keeping me in a place sparking at the touch of anything mundane.
Seeing is believing when it's the words your conceiving, birthing of a tale designed to keep you feeling, aspects of the sinister to contrast the healing, rhyming is easy but it's the meaning of the whole that resonates as an understanding.
Life is a simple story with a complex veiw, you can become a living pariah or a hero who dies and its nothing new.
My poems are of a single thought held up on the back of a personal Atlas separating world's of a diffrent hue.
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 4:06 PM UTC
I watch you from my window
Admiring the veiw
I'm careful you don't see me youd be angry if you knew
I found this town you live in
I really like it here
Could not separate us
I moved here to be near
I watch your wife and children
They look happy as they play
You thought that you could leave me
Moved 400 miles away
This affairs not over
The battle not been won
You have ties with me -always
(Forever)
"I have your son"!
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 8:13 PM UTC
I am an east coast drifter
Living from a suite case.
A different couch every week.
I have no proof of address.
not as if i was receiving mail any.
From city to city.
no place to call a home.
but i wouldn't call it a pity
I have met the worst of people.
i have seen the worst of humanity.
but all that is overcome by good.
in my travels i have become overwhelmed by beauty.
I have learned the ambiguity that stirs fear in a man.
only to see his ambitions walk him through the dark unknown world.
I have lived a wonderful life
in some unsavory places.
but in these places i have found our purpose in life.
its struggle to find our way.
its the adventure.
its those nights spent on the couch.
looking for a home that made my life full of adventure.
the wisdom came from those bus rides to the next city.
the love came from those good and bad i met along the way.
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
Deliberations are a veil of pigmentation
as I see the transparency of every thought.
a nebula of ideas woven in view, can you
see the curvatures that expand outwards.
Bright moments illuminate the surroundings,
as reflections are seen as the weave of conciseness
exhales in majestic colours.
A tapestry of interpretations which is visualized
differently by everyone. All is vivid in the lucidity
of all ideas that form and coalesce. I could almost
reach out and touch this moment of reflection.
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 5:37 PM UTC
those filthy parts of you
you keep out
of public veiw
I feel just the way you do
about the
heartless wreck I am &
all this **** I'm going through.
ashamed at my amazement.
taming is the same as breaking.
it's risky
but worth the taking.
don't you see
all the crazy?
scribbled on my face
& this time the blame
is not a brain
blotted dodgy with
synthetic smile makers.
genetically mutated
color crayon child
molded by mistakes
gold eyed & awakened
unafraid, but folding,
otherwise
okay.
you & I
sure are something.
wild.
& its fine with me.
I like wild things.
violating the
virulent miscreant
blind with
narcissistic
misanthropy
tiring game
sick twisted
lovely terrific
I'll give it a home
& call it all my own.
tides of change
tied to chance
the water's choppy.
the roads is rocky.
every last candy ***
happy avenue.
it wont stop me.
will it stop you?
black angora
silver umbilical cord
fast flippant forward
man
it's ******* freezing!
I can't feel anything!
I hold tepid a fond memory
at sun-up
when we finally sleep
we can share this tedium
& not feel as boring.
we'll speak in the morning.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 2:57 AM UTC
'Why do you write poems?'
That is the worst question you can ask me
Because there is no true answer to that question
To describe my feelings
My anger
My pain
My sorrow
My guilt
My happiness
My confusion
To paint images, in my own point of veiw
The softness and innocence of a single rose
The jeweled coolness found in a dew hanging, off a single blade of grass
The rough edges on of single page in a book, only too be softened with the words written on it.
To create
A story
A lullaby
A memory
A moment
I write because it makes life better in so many different ways
I write to create new stories
I write to remember old ones
I write to paint, new images
I write because it helps take away my pains
I write because, I can
Why do you write poems?
Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 6:34 PM UTC
Baby blue got lost in the river.
down at the bottom only spine would shiver.
The quake was so endearing lost her veiw of the past
And she fell into the ocean river couldn't last.
baby blue filled with bruise said she had nothing to loose.
baby blue was a liar. who fell into the fire.
Baby blue met a man said he'd try to under stand.
But she had nothing left to give, lost it all in the fire.
needle in her skin try to climb higher.
Baby blue still had her man, who staid to understand
he said she had to put out the fire. Try to regain life desire.
what a mess that she had, been burnt pretty bad.
The fire was still burning, but the embers needed nurturing...
baby blue had nothing left for them.
all that was left was left for him.
stomped out the coals.
bid adu to lost souls.
Baby's got a new fire. and it burns for lifes desire.
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
Her hair fell on my bare ***
as we laughed
and diped out on class
I gave her a true teaching
while she was sleeping I nibbled
and slowly paced myself up her left leg
on to the ******
where her mouth dribbled
and I know when I hit the right spot cause she gave a slight giggle
when I told her that teach was about to preach
she kinda geeked out a little bit
as the pink came into veiw of my eyes
her thieghs quivered
and she called me Ron Burgundy the way I played her flute
I put my right hand over her lips
and then put both my hands on her hips
as the honey dripped
as the honey dripped
what a lovely trip
one ride we both will never forget
Aug 2, 2011
Aug 2, 2011 at 9:23 AM UTC
last night i thought my hell was alive and very well
parked in a place that really really smelled
but as I sat there eatin pies and peas
I lokked over me shoulder and changed my very grief
soilders sitting ...having just a brew
no doubting about what they must do
all kitted out in sand style so hostile grounds to be
we pray and wish a safe and happy return
So next time i feel so hard done
so grief and derg inside
i,ll stare out to the sunlight and veiw the other side
be safe my friends be safe
as we stand by your side
Feb 11, 2011
Feb 11, 2011 at 6:51 AM UTC
Ahem.....................!
Ralf is a player, and sometimes he loves to play Ruff.
But tonight he was patient, because he was with a girl named Patience...
Ralf and Patience didn't speak the same language...but since Ralf got expirience; He understands a girls body language.
And he also understands that to get inside a girls body, he must first get inside her mind...
#If beer and child-support were the same price, would guys still buy it?
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 12:35 PM UTC
Last night i had a dream where heaven came to me
did follow this road so beautiful the drive was oh so free
led me to a place... a heaven ...a place for me
the sea was so exciting ...crashing waves in jest
a church left in the turmoil of battles gone and hence
the ruins felt so so right they looked not out of place
sea smelt of the saltiness yet bacon in the breeze
a cafe puffed smoke from near the front so small
it fit a few
bacon cobs a plenty ..and tea so right not stewed
two dogs did try and lick me ..they smelt a freind in me
my heaven came to be my life ..its name obscured from veiw
A map i found now of this place that hid so well from all
they called it bourne ..i didnt know and never been before
I woke up from my dream and knew what I had found
a heaven from my inner side a calmness now was found
Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 12:23 AM UTC
It's only now
After a party
After making new friends
Looking at the wall of windows
The veiw being an industrial park
Eating stale ramen
The typical college experience
It's only now
After having to be the most normal
Do I have to grip the reality
That I'm not struggling with trying to be
The man I always wanted
But I'm struggling with the man
Who got everything his heart desired
Barring the obvious
Always barring the obvious
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
Wet feet on the ground
Rain drops all around.
The veiw is intoxicating.
Sheet grey so monotonous its heart breaking.
In the distance i see lights
Indicating that there is life
But ill stand here.
In the rain
Waiting to feel the pain of it all again
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC