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Tag: Literature

Poetry · Writing

monkey

September 11, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

did you hear that?

“nope”

enjoy the silence

brought to you by

positive energy-

Poetry · Writing

be you;

September 8, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

you said

you said you see yourself in me

no baby no

you’re better

you’re you

Poetry · Writing

mirror

September 6, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

she said when you look deep

she sees nothing

“beware the mirror”

it’s just the beginning

to busy fittin’

in- an missin’

what was really meant for you

spinnin’ in a stew

of yesterday.

look into the mirror

you’re biggest admirer

Writing

remember her in the yellow dress

September 5, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

he stares

-obviously

he remembers

when their eyes met

a latte ago

Poetry · Writing

high noon

September 4, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

i choose not to shoot-

to wait;

but everything

everything

is telling me

to let rounds fly;

Poetry · Writing

air sign energy

September 3, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

it was a

`

spacial

`

experience

Poetry · Writing

hanged man

September 2, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

it’s time to recover

you can remain pressed

that never pressed me

they all see you runnin’

like time is runnin’ low

time for some class

bell rang, late for class-

it’s over.

Poetry · Writing

yorknew

September 1, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

her eyes

they screamed

violence

violet in the sun

red in the new moon

this is our requiem;

Poetry · Writing

tie me down

August 30, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

i knew it

the moment i saw you

i couldn’t look away

scornful eyes peered down

i didn’t care.

the way you bounced

in the summer night

i caved in your eyes

i’m glad they never returned

i wouldn’t have let you go

Poetry · Writing

nonsense nonfiction

August 27, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

i chose to take my time

to fill the holes

left by fiction

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Quote~

And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen
Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

–
William Shakespeare
(A Midsummer Night’s Dream)

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