Tag Archives: poet

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Memories and Reflections

12-12-13

Standing on the hill with a random breeze catching on
His strawberry hair ruffled and soft to the touch;
Succumbing to the force within the currents of the wind

The sun and the moon endure their usual aversion of each other
As they sit on their thrones to enjoy the splendor below;
Loving the thoughtless creatures of mortal limitations

Of this one in particular pretending magnificence

(As a peaceful representation of living in perfect harmony
and fighting the fear of indifference
while promoting beauty in the uncertainty,
or at least the everyday moments that the
World can be too busy to notice)

As the ordinary miracles catches his attention;
A man of notice and the gifts of perception

Breathing in the reality tasted by the events determined
From the recordings of the subjects in question;
Their memories and reflections of them

She’s Not Me
7-7-15

I heard all of the rumors and

The messages that she sent

I thought maybe I was her but

She showed me that we’re different

Her wounds bound her together and

Although they seemed similar

I knew that I was only myself, that

She was not me but someone else

Another drifter saying the same things

Thinking the same thoughts day to day

Except she claims to see more

As if she knows the future

Or maybe bits and pieces of our

Memories shaped together

Dagger
7-8-15

I’ve got the fire burning in my belly

My heart is pumping strong

There’s a few words I’ve been thinking

That lay balanced on my tongue

I thought you were my brother

I called you my best friend

But at the first chance you got

You shoved a dagger into my back
Supposed Friends

7-8-15

Calling all supposed friends!

Oh where Oh where have y’all been?

I’ve found myself among the wolves

Their howls keep calling me home under the moon

Have I died and been gifted a life reborn?

I woke up soaking wet and standing alone

Dripping droplets of their bitter scorn

Leaving puddles of poison on the floor

The grass is always greener in this war

Battles of greed to keep us wanting more

You can claim all of the fields of clover

A fake reign won’t live on forever

I am grateful for lost thoughts ❤

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Poet

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Oh Poet
Writer of lovely verses
With your imagination
Shaping metaphorical figures
Around your bright red
Tongue
Do you know me
Oh Poet
You claim to see
To make us believe
However daunting your task
How far will you run?
There’s a garden
Laid with flowers 
More than the violets
That you seek
Sunflowers stand tall
Guarding the edges
Oh Poet
What others would you find?
Once betrayed
Forgiven never forgotten
If you choose conquest
Over silence
You reap what you sow
I am grateful for words ❤

Soul

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Staring into face, eyes that move in awareness;
a humanistic trait of tiny windows into the

abstract understanding of life
How could it not be there?

This word of attachment of superiority

or, comparison to that
Relating to the beast as true self feels instinct
Sees the pureness of Soul before the

crippling grip of intelligence weighs in
Like a bag of rocks, the heavier the more expensive
To compare cost of brain is like proving worth of goods
Forgetting the very core of oneself to

the point of complete misunderstanding
Of anything, including the very brain in question

of purpose of degree
With every fact crammed into tiny cranial spaces claiming ownership of

the random considerations one used to make
Do we miss these traits or inherently lose them,

like we lose the childlike wonderment of the everyday?
If seeing is feeling and even believing in having a soul at all,

Then of course animals have souls.

 

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I am grateful for Penelope ❤

Connected to the Unknown

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Digging down, clawing, tearing back flesh
Where is the heart?
The incessant pumping, thumping, developing
Madness engulfs the mind
To where the light is dim, distanced away from the sun where the blood runs black
To a sordid colony of imprisoning despair
Followed by a few trips back into the tunnel, funneling down into the center of my soul
Connected to the unknown of those hidden, hiding,
laughing, crying.

I am grateful for family and spending some quality time at home. ❤

2012

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2012

 

Purple veins throbbing through the river to the damaged heart

Slightly pumping, but so close to failing

There is no one around for life support

Is there no one who can offer life?

 

Sickness sets the jaundice skin on fire

A putrid stench that carries the rain home

Flies, vultures, pigs, they’re all alike

The soul’s melting flesh drips off into the trough

How much more can they eat? Forever, it’s not enough

 

We fade away into hidden faces and numbers

We ignore the hope that screams when we all come together

Afraid to stand up, afraid to be targeted

But already, we all walk around with a bullseye

Centered in our chests, it often beats for attention

 

Each one slowly falls, demanding retribution and death

And the grim reaper feeds on the hope in our breaths

Our wrists are tied with the thorny branches from the garden

Death slithers in as the light is forgotten

The devils always promise that we’ll live until tomorrow

But what a risk we take to sell ourselves as slaves

 

Where is our Father, has he forgotten?

Don’t give us life so that we can rot at the bottom

We’ve created our own zombies that wake up to sorrow

Breakable souls that tried so hard not to lose their way

Humans are weak and penetrable

Those who remain alive are motivated by greed

 

We stay afraid to remember how to feel

But it’s our choice to believe in what’s real

As I lay here, I consider fighting but with a pen

They’ll have to kill me to keep me silent

Finally, I am not afraid but then reality sets in

I could write my history for the person behind me

A timeless tale it will tell

About the time when humanity fell

And how we had to give up to survive…

 

I am grateful for my childhood spent in the woods of North Carolina. ❤

 

A Pool Made of Glass

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5-19-12

Sitting on the edge of a pool made of glass

Fingers touching cold panels of time

Overlapping lines point arrows to wisdom

We can all taste the reflection of our lives

The shell is too weak to capture it all

Compensations blur our vision

The lights turn on, to make me laugh

The painting on the wall is my sanction

The door to life is glowing there

Pulsating truth to and from beyond

A unity surrounds as our souls mold together

The story continues to play as we are one

Restlessly still, unable to relate

My mind is bright as I am floating

I can drift anywhere, my eyes hold my fate

Memories from events still left to be discovered

Every movement takes a moment

One second to convince the mind

 

 

I am grateful for new experiences. ❤