ListenListen closelyto immortal wordsthat escape lips,you might be wiserby seeking their wisdomthan closing your mindto convention.
Misguided Devotion The current so strong,As if gravity wasn't enoughTo keep a man groundedIn one spotFor an eternity, The constant surgeOf freshly strewn Memories seepingFrom the duct workMakes every stroke of my paddleSeem forgottenAs if I partook in the lusty lotus. Never does the riverS U B S I D EEven as the light fades,Lashes smoothThe violent rapids
Absinthe EyesMy muse has green eyes.Like the absinthe, thatDrove the mad poets ofThe old centuries past,To their creative ecstasies.Like the Leanan SidheInspiring my imagination,To burn so fierce, so bright,So it near consumes me.I get lost in chartreuse,In the sparkle of peridot.In the Forest green
Of those eyes.
I'm so vainAll vanity aside, I am a narcissist;I don't have an overly large ego,I do not want everyone to look at me,I don't want the world to revolve around meNor do I believe it should. In all hopes,The world will continue to spinOn it's tilted axis around the radioactiveGas ball just out of reach of every toddler's handAnd continue to provide ultraviolet lightTo all those proud enough to not carry protection.I have pride, I do believe I have talentThat someone appreciates what I do,Whether that is truly talent, I have little hopeThat someone will tell me as the comments die,As the favorites decrease, as the supposedlyTwo hundred plus watchers see my vile name,Maneuver their "mouse" over the little 'x' andIn about as long as it takes for the clock to go tick,If it did, as all clocks now tend to be digital,And my work vanishes from their "busy schedule."No, I am not vain, I simply wish to demonstrateThat for all the supposed love and supportAnd eager readers I have collecte
LookLook beyond her curves,hips flow downthe river of legsto her foundation.Look beyond her smile,insidious and vile,full of contemptand corruption.Look beyond her ocean eyes,into the black holethat has claimedas many men as the Bermuda Triangle.Look beyond her words,deceit laid in waitto ensnare her preybefore devouring.Look beyond this woman,Siren temptressleading men to rocksof Medusa victims.Look beyond this womanand imagine more,wait till morningand youll see.
Swallows and BranchesSometimes swallows learn to fly,On lofted winds they stretch their wings;Trees are homes for those afraid.Though all birds fly and flap their wings,Some shall never leave their nests;Sometimes swallows learn to fly.In dead of night they set their sightsOn soaring inside milkweed clouds; however,Trees are homes for those afraid.They stretch their twisted jointsAnd beat their mangled wings, forSometimes swallows learn to fly.A gentle hope of fastidious flappingBreaks the bond of nest to feet; no longer,Trees are homes for those afraid.Goodbye wrestled nest of needles,Goodbye broken shell of home, forSometimes swallows learn to fly.Trees are homes for those afraid.