Now I’m just making stuff up for sh1ts and giggles…
I drank your lies,
Tepid they filled my mouth, trickling down my eager throat.
Such sweet promises and sublime simple surrender.
Idle and bloated I lay like a roadside carcass
swollen by the seering sun, and watched your soft cherry lips.
Eagerly, foolishly, I clung to every word,
each sickly syllable a noose tight around my throat
and sleepwalking I follow, my hand in yours
over coals lit red with flames of broken promises
eyes streaming as acrid tomorrows drift ever skywards
Happy friday people. A day late.
Oh I’d smile and watch you weep
Tears as cold as your heart
Beautiful promise you couldn’t keep
Sickly sweet they dripped from your tongue
How I’d laugh as you tell me why
Acrid lies spilling over your lips
Pooling stagnant at your feet
As I remember his hands, gentle on your hips
Sweet moments soured and stained
And fists clenched, confined to experience
A heart now free once chained
No regrets, no forgiveness. Just nothing.
A little late….
Alone she stands and silent mourns
Snow whipped about her feet
Dreams buried in a grave of lies
Air foul where once was sweet
And tears streaming down her cheeks
Fists clenched, jaw resolute
A rage inside pushed deep down low
Her screams once wild now mute
The trust now lost the joy departed
Cold earth on loves corpse piled
No rose she lays no prayers she speaks
Wipes her face, then turns, and smiles
4 days in a row! How grown up.
Starlight
Come light my way at long days end
And lead me
Over hill and back until night’s end
Consume me.
With silver gaze my heart to mend
Then free me
And no more ever to pretend
Tuesday and still going strong…Bit dark though I will be honet. Perhaps tomorrow I will be serious about someone riding a bike. How dark can that get?
On the shore he stands, tempest raging, sky turned black
and defiant screams into the wind
Demands the ocean calm and give her back
and tears demand forgiveness for his sins
Atop the waves white horses rear and furious race
headlong, stamped and crash about his feet
and tousled hair is whipped about his sallow face
no surrender, no forgiveness no retreat
Nature’s fury taunts and mocks, he hears her calls.
The sun obscured, dark finger pointed, accusations fly
and though he begs she stays within deep prison walls
doomed to repeat and every night to die
More serious poems becauise I’m just that kinda guy. No I am really. Honest. Look at my rhyming n stuff.
Mouth full of lies and the soft sigh of thighs,
oblivious he swims in waters deep.
And entangled dragged low by her strong undertow
full red lips, creamy skin, whispered promises keep.
And so blinded, and chided and ever reminded
how she bends to her will and devours
very easy succumbs to the beat of her drums
and he withers with autumnal flowers
and so belly fat, filled, he’s a slave to her will
appetite, ravenous, quenched
too late rails, cold and frail, and her darkness prevails
on the shoreline cold lifeless and drenched
How about a poem to start. A poem can be a frightfully serious thing.
Through golden shards I see her one last time
Summer’s fading light reflected
and slow she turns away.
And ever since each moment tight in chains I’m bound.
Such cruel memories remind me often,
of things that I gladly a king’s ransom would pay,
and to forget.
And then, with sun on my face I look to her and at last,
as love lost fades into bliss I rest.
Afterwards 