be a poet

though I may make no money
for these meek words I offer.
My love for their creation,
inspirations from
the people I love,
the animals who play with me,
and the worlds within the books I read.

What can I write
What more can I say
That isn’t reiteration
Of all that has been.
How can I do
If its all been done
How can I speak
If its all been said?

But in a later sense
How can I not
Stand myself in verbatim,
When alls been done
And also said,
But no one learned
No one listened.

Happily defining myself by writing it up on a daily basis :-)

down the rabbit hole
he went
farther in his dreams
beyond his reality

down the rabbit hole
beyond the mdaness
he found clarity
in his mind
down the rabbit hole he is free

i sit in the shadows
in the dark i gain my strength
in death i find life

when dusk settles my spirit stirs
when night falls i awake
welcome friend, to the dark side

the creatures of the night welcome you
we urge you to succumb
to the darkness that covers the earth

i see a flicker of smile
a sliver of interest
come, join us in celebrating in the shadows

hear the owls hoot and the wolves howl in unison
for darkness has descended
and night is king once again

i sit in the shadows
light glows no more
and i welcome you in death’s cold embrace.

each sip, each gulp is an invitation
each stare is a sentence

you smile, coyingly
i smile back
you took another gulp
i lit a cigarette

you nod
i motion you to come over
the music is deafening but fail
to muffle the whispers
that we have been sharing

from across the room you smile again
the lights go crazy
and you are drowned in the crowd

i took a drag
blew the smoke out
turned around

and there you were again.

drops of sweat slowly run
down my chest
and my breathing gets heavy
with each thrust

the heat that emanates from
my body hangs heavy in the room
the raw smell of passion
ignites the desires that have long lay dormant

my lungs ache to scream
but your kisses muffle my moans
you hold me in a deep, engulfing embrace
our bodies uniting in one fluid mass

we are nearing climax

yet you step away
leaving me empty
you admire your work in me
I await for you to fill me again

my desire grows stronger
and bonds with your own yearning

and we resume.

i’m not good with words. i’m not as descriptive as i would like to be but i’ve written some verses, mostly anecdotes of what i feel, see and hear. i appreaciate how some people can make words into something palpable, and their words elicit the feelings that one is supposed to feel reading those words. sigh…

i am a poet. doesnt mean i send it off to be published but i am poetic and skilled with that i would say. it doesnt take much.
ive heard it beautiful.
can be complicated..

sunshine and skipping and lake river dipping
ballons and cathedrals and sand dunes and seagulls
grass hills and meadows and dirty peodophiles

Poetry. Hides reality.

Contrast and difference is my title.
Its ok. Its ok. Its ok. Its ok.