Enamored, von con amore, Ore d'amore, et mortem. To lark poetic, of home, Until my heart explodes.
As poet, aspire, assume desire, I wrote for poets, declining, Prose for poetry, I grew designer. More spoke, iron, strewn aside, Cycle heroic for biking true, Though as porch, her mire I knew. To sit in snow, still forever, cold, Gladly to mix into a sill window home. Lover's letter, one pens from notes, To end on soles, or in bags of herion, And never spoken, lovely, but phoned in, In drunken speech, early in the morning. As men, we aspire, and assume desires, I wrote for Odin, always refining, Notes for nobody, I grew aside, Man of the world, I knew her ire.
She won't relent, Heart of paper, stone read. Western hero, composing feelings, Zeal formulaic, deceit ceaseless. Eastern, kind words repentant, Unlikely to spend life waiting, Ferment, offense, to be condemned. Sweetheart, If one only dances, not for scent, Lance just for chests, Language, port for gents. Madame, another supplement, For what drunken mess is other, Than more time misspent? To see the end, would we prevent? Could we? All I see is a girl, a vent, Policy diverse, absurd, dissent.
Solemn acoustic, play yourself, Silent, foolish, I wait for death, My chord arrest, My Lord attest. Holland music, half my breath, Tax my address for half my wealth, Alas my protest, perhaps my stress, In direct response, my indirect. The woman scoffs at his giving gifts, Living gifted is not an ornate box; Richly leveraged when you need a lift, More alike to a light that is simply off. She says, take me out, tonight, Whereto the people are young, Bodies are loose, fabric tight. He says, mistakes and lies, Too young to accrue true views, He mocks and chides.
Pour courvoisier, coke, smoke weed. For core voices toking loke green: Cork d’or choice, spoke woke meaning, Joke broke gleaming, Boast goat dreaming, Invoke oak healing, Poke coded readings, or cook mud. Saying I wouldn’t eat if off the bud, Gimme a fucking break, dawg you would. So form apostrophes, hoax followers, Dominate dossiers bespoke by leads. Chorus needy, broadway job, police: Honest lobbyist leaps, not, Calling policy preacher law, Homely Claudius fears god, Homer justice, and beating his chest raw. Former lover, for I see you as bourgeois, Fleecing people of their heart and minds, Champion blind, one eye is all but lost, Camping, body weak of fighting for causes, In causeways, his cautious mind pines, Cheesing through life, eating off rind, Leave, dodge, dive, Breed, scoff, lie, Edict goes like: What is life? Four courses, hope, feeling? Of course there’s more, but more redeeming? He simply says: I’ve not found thy.
They write light of my writing, Erudite Facebook, liars' rights, Poetically I am but humble, Penning comedies of tribe. Unlike, Unlike, Unlike, Unlike my peers, I replied. Despite fears and sighs, My stride upright, austere. Alas, long grass, an axe, Tomorrow fills, fellow actors, Craft jazzy, played by amateurs, Demanding average. Eyes glassy and skills assay, Alas, follow mass, a bass, Screaming of typeface, in your face.
I have a shelf of books, all ashes. My most disastrous, Poetically immaculate. Writing of real life intangibles, Kissing a boy by the shore, While the crowd screams more. That's the 21st century, man, Progress a little beyond books of ash, Paper plates and cheques for cash, Beyond are spaceship parts beneath trash. If Etan must, they probably may have done, So if May is upon, another spring comes, Against a flower one cannot lean butt, Especially with the shadow cast cut across. Don't show up at the poetry contest, Rhetoric political, ignorant, floral, passe, Or expect they place you last, lame, fake.
My belly white, tattoo skin black. World external floating my inlet facts. Arms extended, hurled outward to any man, At least stolen by chance; At last romance. Of snakebites, stated minds, Or nothing. The badger writes. Science though he knows nothing of, Only fighting and dénouemen love, Fakery and the image source he knows, Yet facts alas in the seeds he sews, Spits on the dirt, who, He walks upon with shoes.
This morning's protocols Beginning pondering What to do with people on the web. Thus with a deep resolve Maintaining promising Again untrue We will meet again This time she has evolved Now loving squandering Dreams anew Then dreaming to forget Sometimes I can recall Accepting sombering Time wasted In following a trend This time he feels involved Now loving squandering Has a few Then lives in the regret You ever feel withdrawal Oncoming vomiting Bid adieu To all of your old friends I can't say I'm appalled Forgetting honoring Lives wasted Unfollow them in death
Quoth the stone road. “Does a slug judge blood in a cut?” “I’ve seen a sponge pull the snow into it’s lungs.” “How does brush on a bluff approach a shrub?” Roads groan in prose as such that the dove dove and the grove was lush. Lots of berries for the nature boys. Pure love it ’twas.
Friends spoken to be millionaires paid, Mind hopeful, experience bar full, I'm hoping to get a millionaires pay, Friends along with, interiors vague. Though rhymes alone do not denote caste, They are like paste, or a paper, Clinging to the things we wish to frame. Like metal rods with a magnet lace, I walk back to my original place. Pens broken and arms folded in front, Mind hopelessly lost of useless knots. Life like a lark, but come too soon, So hopelessly lost, inside of dark, Heart fought and hard fought, And eventually the daybreak comes.
The thing that hurts the most. You calmed my storms. You helped make sense of the chaos. You plucked me from brokenness. Helped me find strength. I don't know what it was. But just looking in your eyes. Filled my soul with peace. I miss it. I miss the quiet. The calm. I miss us. I'm starting to feel broken again. Empty inside. Trying my best. Not to let anyone see. But there are days. Where control escapes me. Do you think of me? As often as I think of you? Do you remember my name? What it once meant to you? I look back on that day. March 10th. Where I lost you. Where every image I had of you. Just shattered. You were no longer a refuge. You became a source of pain. You still are to this day. I blame myself for it. For my losing you. It's been three months. Realizing it's true. I don't cry as much. Though my heart still does ache. Try as I might; I can't bring myself to hate; You. The situation. Us. I want to throw it under the proverbial bus. I can't. Because the sky still reminds me of you. It was our destiny. Our sky. The world was going to be ours. Accept it. It's over now. These dreams just won't come true. I need to accept that what we are. Is through.
Someday I'll forget you, That day I'll be free from my thoughts, That day I'll accept that I don't have no one, That day I'll be happy being alone, It won't depress me. One day I found someone, Though I won't hope that it will happen, We never know what happen next, I just need myself ready for it. But for now, I wish you were doing well, I love you from the bottom of my heart, Even though you don't care about me, And I don't know if I exist in your life.
Nails filed to the end, Sun setting in the distance, I scratch and claw endless, Failing to find a coin to spend, Flailing to mind my business, The new owner Olympus. Perhaps I am but foil to him, Poetically our lives akin. Though he sees me boiling pans, Loud as thunder in soiled pants, Sent on my way out the door, Rather than embarrassed again.
Just getting laughs from the old guard now Epitaph in town for an old sound It's jokes, man How much we fuck around This place This time Joy that I have found Do a flip Throw a lock Knock 'em down
First there is clay No meaning to a name Strangers will pray Friends prey on their loved ones Some things will change Some feelings can last days Some people say Sometimes it's the rainfall Feet upon the asphalt Back making friends Now who gives their own heart? Hatred instead
Strangers Friends Lovers Then strangers again vicious cycle never ends You know I love you let's not pretend, But where we are headed I've already been Rather jump ship then go through this again...
HI……… It’s about a half past midnight The time I always get my brain thinking of you Actually i don’t know if I just get my head thinking of you or you get in my head for me to think of you Six years down this hard life there is not a day I haven’t done that Its routinal it has to happen I hate you for hating me that much I know we all drowned but we didn’t die The silence gets louder and I am forced to think you’re not part of me any more But is that real Are the vows broken that easily The bonds we built every other time our lips touched Are they shattered that easily I don’t hate that you found love again Actually I too tried to find some one Though it didn’t just work out But I hate the way you keep silent on me Give a hi a day u don’t know how high that would lift me a day So if you loved me as u said u did some time Can you please share a second of your time with me a day Just to be sure we wish merry for each other Though it didn’t work between us GOODWINZ TIMOTHY