Tag: Symbols

Poetry · Writing

saint III

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i looked you in the eyes

and i took your words as gospel

preacher of the light

the filler of void

an anchor in the middle of the ocean

and on this cruise, you were the voice of reason

that outfit you can wear during any season-

i pray to you;

before thy i kneel and worship the grace you give

the challenge in your eyes gives strength to those

that can’t will themselves from bed

that can’t summon the strength

that wish for change and are granted borrowed time from your generous hands

that you for the gifts wrapped in neat bows

an angel from below i thought sent to curse

to burn

yet you tend to my gardens

for i

for i am only a humble poet

a dancer of water for the moons wishes

a singer for those souls that cherish the moments that never end

and you granted my wish

for that;

i will love in my borrowed time

i will write about your words

about your beauty

about this life, from this view

 

Poetry · Writing

tootsie roll

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i walked a line

that was drawn for me

words were not my friend i found comfort in the arms of another

before the pen was my pillow

i needed you to find the center of a tootsie roll pop

i couldn’t rely on my own will

on my own path

on my own words

bleeding was just casual

love was always occasionally

direction was always running in after the bell rang on a monday morning with one shoe and no backpack;

 

always after the test was done-

always after the she found another-

always too late

Poetry · Writing

bowl of worship

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i have known you

walked with you

seen you walk through fire and get burned

but you believed you wouldn’t-

i have seen others walk the same

but i put worship in your bowl

i thought you were immune

but you are human like the rest of us

skin on your bones love and hate in your heart

balanced- in your eyes i see you have

changed.

not the same fluff in your step

but i envy you

not everyone could have taken that leap into a world of question

so i leave the worship in your bowl

i think you will get through the fire

next time-

Poetry · Writing

lake of mine;

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i need you-

i don’t understand why that is so hard to admit,

i am someone who won’t ask for help

even when everything is flooded and i’ve lost an oar

and when no one else is coming or can even see the water

you; but with you, you i need around,

the feel of your hands on mine

leaves a chill down my spine

the soft voice echoing, saying everything will be alright

lips on my ear, everything will be alright

you are the other oar when i am drowning

when the day is beautiful;

and the day is ours to enjoy

and i am never drowning

Poetry · Writing

same problem – different day

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and it is always me

caught in the darkest corner of my mind

wandering aimlessly destroying the structure that wasn’t

in the last invasion claiming the lives of more innocent thoughts-

i can put down the knife but i can’t hide it

when i am not looking, i will continue to cut and stab and kill

until this home is a crime scene;

there are only a few calm moments

a voice that sends me, the other me

running- running to a place i have yet to evict

to a place he calls home that has it all put together

but

when i am gone:

picket fence repainted

door mat dusted

time for books to be placed back on the shelf

photo albums rebound

dinner in the oven

albums placed next to the sega genesis

and

i

can

breathe

Poetry · Writing

cupid’s dmv

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steady hand

the god with the steadiest and he never misses

truth sight and a bond issued

we waited our turn for something this real

love this real

not the temporary they handout to appease you

they can’t be the one to please you

cupid has not found your one;

number forty-two thousand and ninety three-

hoping it is our turn, i will finally have my number called

not this year

or the next

others picked what seems at random

what is it that they have but not i

challenge them for the love that i believe to deserve

enough is enough and temporary handouts it is enough

they don’t deserve this as much as i

will hold hands in line together

and wait for our chance;

Poetry · Writing

god’s arcade

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chance is-

we get a second chance with another life

a god puts quarters into a game

and we reboot in a new body

new memories new family new lovers

in that life i never touch a pen

i carry a ball and a glove

a gun and knife

a purse and a baby-

maybe-

we live in the shadow of our god

the one pushing quarters to give us life

and we chase the same love they look for

and that’s why i always find myself in your arms

Poetry · Writing

do not enter – double a batteries

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i know i have been in your thoughts

i woke up and my legs were shaking

roaming corridors i once lived finding myself a tourist

a map with rooms crossed out and a new name written

on brown tape-

renting or buying

a night affair or a lifetime package

why was i brought to witness;

a chance to outbid

or walk down a memory lane with caution tape

boarding off every entrance,

the tape was my doing

but the exhibits were made to last

and i wonder

how many double a batteries

it would take

Poetry · Writing

yesterday’s grave;

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it is in our dna

like a skeleton in our closet-

we were made through violence

the quake in my clench fist

was the same in my past life;

it is not what i am here for

to lay down the sword and wield a shield like cap

i will use words to diffuse

this fuse and the only bomb that will drop

are f bombs to clear the fucking rubble

history only outlines today

but will still build an empire

an euphoria haven of shields

cutting fields of old patterns

burying violence in a grave marked yesterday