This blessed day in June
when the lofty sun
pushes darkness towards morn,
Druids gather to watch
the re-birth of summer
through rings of stone,
whilst the Green Man,
that old sprite of the woods,
peels his human form
from oak and dances
through the trees and undergrowth,
spreading his fertility
and whispering promises of new life
far and wide.
I like your company
But I don’t need it
I have me
My not so secret lover
It’s taken many years
To concede and take my own love
As the greatest love
I can have
My self loathing, transformed
By not giving a damn
Collectively of what you think of me
My freedom should not be confused with your despair
Some say I love myself to much
I say, it’s not your time yet
Self love gives me the tools to love you
Listen to your heart, discount the noise
I wish my legs cannot walk
So that it will hurt me
And occupy me
From grieving over thee
I wish my lungs cannot breathe
So that I will fight to grab air
And that effort will keep me
From grieving over thee
I wish my eyes cannot see
So that I will cry for what I cannot see
And that cry will save me
From grieving over thee
I wish I cannot be
So that I will ever be happy
And that happiness will give me
What you could not give me
The dark cold night
A blank canvas
Able to be disrupted
By a simple spark
The recently dug pit
A hole in the sand
Nothing on its own
But a potential to be
Dry kindling in the center
The ability to start
The necessities of life
That allow achievement
Logs carefully placed
To feed the fire
To guide the flames
Into the dance we we prefer
A gust of wind
Simple moving air
Something so minuscule
that can misstep the goals
Something so beautiful
On the dark cold night
That could only be caused
By a simple spark.
The more I write about sex
The less I have to have it
My lover is perfection
Created by me for me
No fillers, corn starch or soy
Cross The Name Off The List,
Off The Page And Off The Past,
Etchings InTo The Quiet Deep,
Let Sleep Not Be As A Route To Struggle,
As It Forgets ItSelf While I Strain To Remember,
To Recognize Familyar Eyes In The Mirror,
While There Is Change Behind The Flesh,
The Bone Underneath Stays The Same,
Holding This Up… Keeping This All From Falling APart,
Teeth Under Lips Near Tongue And…
…
My Voice Through My Throat,
A Traveler On A Bridge From Heart To Ear,
Then From The Heat InTo The Earth,
Forwards InTo The Winding Waters,
Thicker Than A Trickleing Dawn,
Erodeing The Foundations Of Dusk,
To Surround Its Origination WithIn Rhythmic Dissidence,
Borrowing NoThing And Knifeing At The Roots,
Dissolveing… InTo A Sense Of Humor… Killing Interference…
…
Birthing Coherence When The Signal Stabs Back,
Static Fadeing With Its Laws,
Now To Mend When It All Crawls Out From The Shade,
Returning…
…
At The Junction,
Crossed At Its Roads,
Am I My Voice As It Travels…
…
Or… Is It Being Me In Silence?
More at http://rwkt.blogspot.ca.
He loves me…He loves me not
He loves me…He loves me not
He loved me yesterday… Today he says he can’t
He loves me but doesn’t let me love him
I love him and love him more for loving me
He loves me but hates me for loving him
He loves me but hates me too
Does he love me or hate me?
He loves me…He loves me not
Frailty, thy name is man.
ANNOUNCEMENT: PLEASE TURN OFF ALL ELECTRONIC DEVICES
In today’s world
We live in 24/7
Communication
A lot of it is text useless
Though guilty myself
When the instant communique
Makes me smile
I like when I am commanded
To power down devices
That joyous moment
When I can’t be found
I know what you’re thinking
You can always leave the phone home
But then there will be an annoying
message to be returned
So, if you’re like me
And treasure the crystal silence
Of a gentler time
When walking in the park
Didn’t involve alerts and ringtones
Treasure the words on your smartphone
That read
“NO SERVICE”
I’m a snarky dude
Living in my own universe of despair
Fringe life
The king of sarcasm
Cursing a sunny day
Loving the dark side
Swimming upstream forever
Finding solace where I shouldn’t
And then you
You captured me and taught me
How to smile a little bit
I’m not quite filled with glee
But haven’t broken anything lately either
Work in progress
Life in motion
A writer’s life
Thankful for words
Redemption and or salvation
Waiting patiently
She was crooked teeth and rottenness
masquerading as the promise of a lifetime
disguised as a bright bride
and you thought you saw all of her
When she spoke, her voice came with razors
pricking little insults
and be glad now she found another river
to float down, to be free of that sound
At the time, seeing her through dull eyes,
really seeing only windmills, a belief in love
for love’s sake before growing.