Tag Archives: #writers

THE BLACK ROSE

When the wind has left your life
like empty sails forever drifting
a lost sense of savior
and the dirt knows just how
many tears have said,

“Just shut your eyes
batten down the hatches
and survive all the bad guys”

And bruised knees beg relief
oh soul the keen victim
for the black rose of love

just sing
just sing
just sing

JUST say!

Just say you’re slaying
all the phantom ghosts
that make you laugh
when you’ve lost your mind
for the love of a black rose.

:: 05-21-2017 ::


A HUNDRED POEMS – XXXIII

GreatNothing
MY
LOVER! my step
/broken\
|_
|_ Falling-feeling
near your
furnace_Soul …
i [just me] dirt,dear
And i died a wish wishing
to touch…but your purity
denied my dirty Hand/Heart
i …[me] am no thing AND
bow to The GreatNothing
that eats me i should
~can [did]die
a fumbling mumbling
ember-Wish
THAT “I love you!”

:: 08-06-2014 ::
Rev: 02-01-2017 ::


A HUNDRED POEMS – XCIII BIRDS & DREAMS

i do miss
the feathered
creature
the tickle-beak
upon my hand
as i feed her
with all my

d r e a m s
flying dreams!

:: ~~ ::


THE EXPANSIVE UNKNOWN

MY feet are wasted
i have relieved myself
upon them.

In powder-blue
all my gross innocence
pulls back the dreams
of my youthful days

My youthful dreams
that i knew close the crypt
upon the somber skies

And the Book of My Life
have many torn pages
just pulp scars of living

actually all by the power
of love fallen so it’s
me i’m writing of

you can take me to a place
called hell i have a hat
hanging on it’s wall

So then, my expansive unknown
always be! That we all
can dream a dream
and eventually meet the day
we try to excuse all our
regrets while love ones
lament on such a beautiful day
:: 01132016 :
rev: 03.03.2016


BY GRACIOUS ANCIENT LOVE

By gracious
ancient love
and above all
things that are
gently pleasant
life paused
Just if(for you)
and like all
young new hearts
impatiently moved
by his and her
minds all mysteries
are likeMaking new
memories; by
flesh and kisses
walks and talks
hands over bridges
eyes across love
whose sharp horizons
divide the days
and nights of light
and secret missions/
away together as One
away together in Love
is where our minds
take off\I’d rather
live and sometimes
even hurt if Love
at times tenders me.

:: 03-02-2016 ::


FLEE IN TERROR

you are indeed beautiful.
I bet your soul is even that more
(more than beautiful)
As a poet I would express the visual
delight of having watched the sun dance
from high to dusk and then watching
bright biggest lights dipping below
the horizon — to witness this within
your eyes (reflections are decisions
we made!)

and exhausted I whisper:

enough. enough! do not slay me with beauty tonight!

Allow my mind to proclaim sunrise in the morrow.

I suggest: teach lovers a new terror
whereby many good hearts flee toward
their lovers.

:: 02.23.2016 ::


FIVE POEMS

I
A strain of realization
beyond the Eye-See
A touch of familiarity
Delicate  is such wonder!
A poised daisy in a field
more expansive than minds
Dropping tears in vast
nothing do’s
A gleam of immortality
dipped in fog-dew!
:: ~ ::

POSTMORTEM MESSAGE

we met at the local coffee shop
and i told you our romance was over
you choked at first then cried
some tears and said you had already
left me
i walked away and did not look back
you were crying and so very alone
on the way home i saw a wreck
no survivors the police said to me
i saw your car then realized
your words //within the carnage
of twisted metal there you were
and had been dead for hours

:~~~:


LOVE IS A BLOOMING FLOWER

I am (my love is) love as if you were
the free rising winds of life or arrow
of roses and thorns that disperse despair!
I love you as towering buildings stand tall
and thunderheads speak with lighting;
my nature is natural to love you as the
plant that blooms and carries beauty
hidden within itself until the light of sun
brings forth those flowers as my heart
blooms for you when the world sleeps I am there
I love you as mystery breaths the interest
of wondering minds and the dense fog of some-
time life is difficult but mostly I am deeply
appreciative that there is no I or you,
only our hands entwined by faith, love,
devotion and time.
I love you.

:: 11132015 ::


A HUNDRED POEMS – XC THE ART W(h)OR(e)LD

SOME possess talent
whilst others are
possessed by it.
One is a gift,
the other a potentially
fatal disease
of spirit and soul.

:: ~~ ::