Rainbow in the Clouds

A long day and short night's rest
I woke up tired to see a crest
A crest that was gorgeously arrayed
afar off. and there it stayed

A short night's rest then weary I forgot
A smile posessed that this crest had brought!
to be so far from yet feel so content
and marvel at its' beauty that morning I spent

With my weariness forgotten I began to say
"How do you do? And how shall I repay?"
"Repay you for what?" this crest said to me.
"For the posession I squandered! That made me weary."

So then I began to say and relate
how each color of hers began to inflate
to slowly build up what I had tore down
and appreciate how her colors abound

bright and radiant, from her heart they all bled
priceless expressions, like a ruby that's red
little bit closer though no on the fringe
stiched conversations as a vibrant orange

and to feel that I'm not back in the row
you grab my attention with your rays of yellow
A friend to be called was unforseen
how large this has grown(in such a short time), like a forrest that's green

uncandidn and humorous with words that are true
this(about you) and my favorite color is blue
I keep you esteemed and leave her below
and over time I gotten to see your indigo soul

A smile in my head that I have set
that softens the heart like the color violet

seven colors, that number is complete
North or south one day we will meet
and glad at that morning I looked and I found
sitting afar off, A Rainbow in the Clouds

As fates come and go
As time speeds then slows
As fate brings together and tears apart
I stay a shadow in the dark

When reason trancends
When one offends
When conversation begins then ends
When they, socially, depart
I stay here a shadow in the dark

Believing I was kind
Believing is not blind!
Believing that she cared
Believing in that which was not shared
Believing is not blind but is not smart
I stay here a shadow in the dark

Realizing what I dread
Realizing was not right instead
Realizing what could not be fathomed
Realizing the deep chasm
Realizing that it is lonely in this park
I sit down as a shadow in the dark

If I could go back
If I did not say that
If I could only reconcile
If this weren't such a difficult trial
If I had not done it from the start
Then I wouldn't be here in the dark

I stay and look around to see who is here
An instant message is what I hope to appear
A time to laugh and to conversate
A time for diologue that I was willing to initiate
A time long ago, yes indeed
I've been here before. That is all I see

May I ask who is the one to blame
A cold shoulder is the name of the game
And this is my gift for sharing with you
Abstract feeling and saying adieu
And soon I will speak to you again, it is then that I will hold this frame
Maybe. But 'til then I am the one to blame

Tradgedy has befallen me
I have lost my dear
I have sworn to myself that I will keep my head up in cheer
I walk upright and not in ignominy
I made a promise that it will never happen again
To say that she was an acquaintance would be wrong. She more like a......

So I leave this place. And will come back yet
And on the ensuing trip I will not fret
About conversation and things that are subsequent
As sand slips through my hands, so you too. Like a desert silhouette

It came to me by surprise
Like dewdrops from the skies
a simple hello became a bond
a quick yet pleasant, beloved, and fond

a time when it was I who you looked toward
a time when it was I who you sought to thrward
nothing was easy and not in excess
there was nothing to look forward. and no one to impress

a conversation here and a conversation there
many a suitor would ponder and stare
but this was my little humming bird
and beautiful she was. as others concurred

a feeling of helplessness. of sorrow indeed
I leave this region on a noble steed
a feeling that strength is not the answer. not in issues like these
a feeling when only that one my heart appease

sometime soon I'll test and see if it will
then back I'll be, with comprehension and skill
'til then a pain when I visualize your eyes
with every passing moment. like the dewdrops from the skies
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am: yet what I am none cares or knows:
My friends forsake me like a memory lost,
I am the self-consumer of my woes--
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shadows in love's frenzied stifled throes
And yet I am, and live--like vapors tossed

In to the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life or joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
Even the dearest, that I _ _ _ _ the best,
And strange--nay, rather stranger then the rest.-JC

I am and yet none cares
I stand amongst a thousand stares
Amongst the stares and many blows
I am me and yet no one knows
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A melody in my head

I often wonder what your voice sounds like
As soft as a rose and as sharp as a spike
So tender, vibrant, radiant yet cold
The little one who speaks out so bold

A token for effort? or is this all trite
and if I was talking to you, would you answer in spite
you givith and takith through I endured
you voice still lingers...the voice not yet heard

Your tone starts to change, and time starts to fly
a pity and woe are for me
this if I do not try
If I do not try to swim toward thee


Round and round like a caracell
you pass by day into the night while in my bed
A face I might not call and name not to spell
A melody. your voice in my head

Long and tedious the days have come
Loud and pounding. like sounds from a drum
Lasting til night and on through the rain
Long and tedious they all were the same

Almost did I find but it was not the be
Again and again I searched through the sea
A chance to silence. In my head lie a bang
And then it grew louder. And louder it became

Instant soothing I have sought
Incense and fine oil I have bought
Insidious and tyrant aloud as it sang
Injurious to my bones. In me was disdain

Noticing something I've not seen before
Noticing something I grew to adore
Noticing that that "something" took away my loneliness and pain
Noticing that that one was Lain

A smile I have yet to see
A smile one day gone
A smile that would catch my fancy
A smile mentally drawn

A laugh that I have yet to hear
A laugh, a melody
A laugh that would take away my fear
A laugh that'd set me free

Some day they will be realized
Some day and I will see
Some day I will be suprized
And will not be lonely

A shining Knight with a blue eagle shield
who many revered and left many in awe
a Golden large claymore is the weapon he wields
the blinding rays off his claymore is what they saw
though many in his hand, he searched for ONE in the field
wondering, as it were, striving after the wind
yet promised himself never to yield
so along on his horse he rode determined

Today I saw a sweet dandelion
That stood as bright as can be
on it's own with none to rely on and
had many a onlooker in it's gallery

A sweet dandelion, her smile would gleam
pulling in all the moon tide
A smile that resonates from their day to their dreams that
none could deny

A sweet dandelion that stood dignified
that possesed reason and wit
whose honey was so sweet, none dared to deride and
there it stood so delicate

A sweet dandelion that has yet seen the pit
an unmatched aura of majesty
they're are all in her skit yet
all play second because of her unmatched beauty

I'm happy to have finally read your poems. :)

As sand slips through my hands, so you too. Like a desert silhouette

Great line.

I am: yet what I am none cares or knows:
My friends forsake me like a memory lost,
I am the self-consumer of my woes--
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shadows in love's frenzied stifled throes
And yet I am, and live--like vapors tossed

In to the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life or joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
Even the dearest, that I _ _ _ _ the best,
And strange--nay, rather stranger then the rest.-JC

I am and yet none cares
I stand amongst a thousand stares
Amongst the stares and many blows
I am me and yet no one knows

I really like this one. :)

- Seeker

Thanks a lot, Marie. I'm really happy you read and like some of them. I'm smiling right now.
:)

It was just some of my work now almost a year ago. It helps me remember some of those who I came in contact with over the past year.

til the next poem.

I ask myself why I don't ask. With every step the thought crosses my mind. With every passing moment I question whether or not I am a coward for not doing so; for not taking the initiative.

Would I say all the right things that she wanted to hear? Has she heard all of the things I would say. Can I my ignorance to her wants and needs be overlooked in this phase. Why does it seem so difficult at times? Why can't I just enjoy myself? Why must it be so hard?--the brain, emotions, physically.

I would just like to enjoy myself. At the same time, she wants to enjoy herself as well. Does that make me selfish? Would that mean that every other guy who has attempted selfish? How do you know if you fit the woman's criteria?

Why must it be so complicated? Why are women so good at giving hints, and men bad at recognizing them? No matter what those may be. A women can tell you to leave or stay. But that is all thrown out the window since men find it hard to read between the lines, or even worse, find it hard to alert themselves each and every second of the day to such talk. Why not be forthright? At least I would know to or not to continue.

I've lost a lot. My energy has been sapped. I've tryed to figure out this girl to no avail. My emotions have been scattered abroad after I layed them on the table. I've made myself into a fool. A fool for trying to get a grasp on your mind, interests,....on you.

I must not know a lot about this game like I once thought. Maybe I should ask her boyfriend to get an idea how this thing works.

Great poem! I really like that twist at the end. :)

I'm happy to see you writing and trying out new styles. I've really grown to like prose. :)

- Seeker

Two more lines


'Is it too much to ask a guy to commit?' I've heard this more times than I would care to remember. Women and girls that I know express the same despair in this regard. I don't know if it's a man they need or not wanting to be alone that is at the root.

I've often wondered why women look for a long term commitment. More than that, what are their reasons for such. Does it comes from the need for a man, from not wanting to be lonely, or is it compensation? Nowadays it seems as if women are acting more and more independent and stronger. And if really they were, then that would negate my first two ideas. That leaves me with the last option as the solution.

Every six seconds a man thinks about sex. Men need sex. Angels once left their place in heaven, to have sex. So it's no wonder that should a man decide to approach a girl, this is the first thing to come to mind, and it's not as if they breezies don't know. They are not ignorant to their actions so as to attract men(be it dress, physical cues, speech). Every month they are reminded what their purpose in life is and is a process that defines them as a woman. So armed with the knowledge of who they are and what men need, they use it as a trumph card.

Love is said to be a give and take dynamic (my question is, "does one get then give? or haven recieved, then give"). Men no longer take women and they no longer take the sex. Men must be given permission by women. But women want commitment; they want their man to be with them and not leave. It's no wonder that if a woman is going to surrender her body, she'd want some idea of security...err...permanance. But is the sex-commitment transaction the arrangement men are looking for? Tickling my brain did this until I came up with the answer, "NO." The price of sex is never worth the trouble of a b*tch as your girl, and any man will tell you that. Men want a women who can ******.

Funny because it rhymes with commit but starts with an s. But I'm left with the question, "Is it too much to ask...?"

The white cylinder of death smolderd between his fingers.
Curls of toxins emitted from his lips, lazily formed clouds above him.
If they could, they would pour acid rain upon the shell that sat underneath their dry mockery.
A glass with 2 ice cubes sat idle next to him.
The poisonous liquids having long since been consumed.
His thirst for inebriation had already been more then satisfied.
But on this night, he thirsted for something other then the simple joys that hangovers pursued.
He wished to be satiated by flesh.
His hooded eyes met aversions.
Occasionally greeted by a flirtatious smile, or a shy double take.
He yearned to be touched.
But not by these petty empty vessels.
He yearned to be touched, by HER.
Self-Hatred, anger, despair, jealousy, inadequacy, and nauseous pity welled up within him.
He observed then, across the room, a sultry steady gaze and a bitten lower lip.
The piece of meat before him gingerly tugged at her hair.
A suicidal fawn, attempting to quench itself at the edge of the crocodiles nest.
Visions of fanciful rapture and ecstacy filled his primitve lustfull mind.
He wet his lips in anticipation of the kill.
But suddenly the face of tonights conquest had transformed.
SHE haunted every fiber of his being.
Abruptly he stood up, went outside and vommited.
"Not tonight."
He said to himself.
Whereupon he went home to a bed, that could give him no comfort or rest.

Who am I?


Who am I?
Am I the little devil I was when I was younger?
Am I the energetic monkey I used to be?
I often ponder
by looking at the stats I would see

Who am I?
I need time to think
Maybe I should just go to Minn. with all that snow
All they got is that and two citiest, but what about a rink?
Na, that place sucks. Plus I'd be all alone

Who am I?
I need a capri to sip
I need time to think or even better some dough
I'd play virtual solitaire and let the time slip
Or take my mind off all of it, and hit the gym with rows

Who am I?
You tell me
maybe a friend could help
and I've run out of things to say now. I guess I'm not as smart as I thought I was
*sigh*

Prose or Rambling?


Today I chased to no avail. I leaped, I ran, and dashed. Through hallways, around corners and even up stairs, I chased her. I chased with no regard to time, without time, and despite of the time. I chased and felt like a fool, or an ass who is led by the neck. With great effort and good intentions, though, I chased. I tryed.

Today I chased but didn't get close. She was right in front of me. I could smell her, feel her aura and even see the glow. I wanted to marvel, to indulge, to extend. Yet, no matter how far I wished my hand could reach, I knew my mind or body did not even reach the fringe. She was close enough to pounce, and yet too far to strike. Well, at least I thought.

I felt like the hunted though I was in pursuit. I saw that playful aloofness on her face. I saw her friendly and coy countenance. She knew I was chasing. She knew what I wanted. It was in her step, in the bounce of her hair, in her averted smile. She was in control. She had the arrows of love, lust, infatuation, or whatever you want to call it, in the precise aim of her right hand and a part of my heart in her left. At some point I forgot who was supposed to be in command, because all I did was chase.

There was no way for me to talk to her today, but I have talked to her. Today I chased, and that's all I did--no measure of will or might could I have mustered would have changed this. I ran out of breath while she kept widening the gap. She hardly lets anyone close. Chasing is one thing but subduing this prize is a whole other feat. Though there just might be a chasm to leap, I believe I got the shortest jump. I have had a taste of this forbidden fruit. She knows every guys wants, that every guy looks, and how they long, yet not every guy is willing to chase into the forrest of uncertainty. Well, except me.

Smile for me


a Smile from you is a gift

Searching, seeking; thoroughly I sift
More and more: I want. I wish

a Smile from you warms my soul
My thought, my feelings, my heart you stole
Inside built up and you'll never know

a Smile from you is what I need
Might this be a dead end? Should the signs I heed?
Interesting how a smile is like a seed
Low in the ground, 'til it rises, to see

"a Smile he wants to not feel alone."
"Maybe today, the light, he'll be shown--
Insurance for the weak who's accident prone"
"Little can be said becase little is known.
Except he has many." "What vanity," said the stone.

5 W's

What is gain? What is shame?
When is it fame? When is it pain?
Why the disdain? Why the label 'lame?'
Who is to be tame? Who is to refrain?
Where to lie the slain? Where to place the blame?
How do I beat the game? (and) How do I not act like Cain?

prose or rambling -

thank you for asking me to read and comment, shogun. although, i would say, your work stands strong on it's own and needs no critique. :)
no matter how far wished my hand could reach
i'm a little confused with the wording here. perhaps there is a word missing? : )

aim of her right had and a part of my heart in her left
hand?

Though their just might
there?

into the forrest of unsurity.
uncertainty, maybe? : )
-----
i didnt check for punctuation, because sometimes that doesn't really matter.. unless it makes the work confusing to read or interruputs flow.

i also didnt comment on content, really, and that's simply because content is the writer's luxury. it doesnt really matter what anyone else thinks about it. it's the writer's and no one's comments or critiques can change that.

do i like the poem? or course, it's a wonderful piece of prose. :) did it have flow? i believe so, there were some instances where i think punctuation could help the flow remain consistent, but you know.. that's not for me to comment. it's your work and no one else's comments should matter. : )

keep on, keeping on, shogun. you have a natural talent for writing. just let your work go where your mind takes you. dont be afraid to take chances with it. be honest in your work and dont be afraid to use rhythm. forget the rules the teachers give you.. that's not what writing is about. at least not creative writing. use punctuation and word play to your advantage to create rhythm and just write and write and write.

:)

- Seeker

"What vanity," said the stone.


And yet here I sit, stand, and lie thinking. I think of what I've lost, gained, and hope to gain. I sit hoping they are thinking the same thing. I stand hope they are not thinking what I'm thinking. I lie thinking what they are thinking and trying to predict what they are thinking. I think too much. I wish I had them to talk to. Then I'd know what it was they were thinking. Then I wouldn't have to worry what they where thinking.

Today I saw THEM. Both of them were there. They both saw me. They both had someone else. They had someone to talk to. I had no one. They both seemed happy. I was in turmoil. They both had purpose. I was looking for a way out. And yet as I saw them, I wondered what it was they were thinking.

If a picture is worth thousand words, then I had two thousand words to think about. And for that whole time I did. I would have like to asked, but they had someone. I would like to ask, but even that is risky business. But I think it's best for me to think since that's what I do best.

Humbled and Dejected


A mastery without words, a way with words, and not using the right words. I use words to persuade others, I use words to persuade myself. I am not good with words when it comes to persuading others to believe. And yet still I persuade without a single utterance. What does this make me? Who am I and who do I wish to be? Who knows who I am and who believes I am someone I don't know I am? I could only be one thing.

A fool. I feel like a fool, a proud fool, but a fool. Like all fools, I think I am someone great. I believe that the heavens around bear down with glory and praise--it's the ultimate form of self-delusion. I am like a habitual liar. Who, in the process of lying, believes the lie himself. I cannot accept who I am or who people tell me I am. That's how I am. That's me and that's the fool in me. Call it denial or delusion or lying or whatever you wish. I lie to all, but most importantly, I lie to myself. I lie about who I am, what I have and even what I could have had.

I have gained much, and lost even more. I possess without taking and relinquish without a fight. I wish to conquer and hope not to fail. What I wish to conquer and relinquish is always given. What is given I do not want, but I yearn for and adore. What I adore is what hurts me, and that kills to think. What I think is what I have been shown, which is both much and nothing, ironically.

Pain, pessimism, and sorrow is all I see. I wish it wasn't so. If only I could press reset, back, or rewind. If I could start the game over. Then maybe I could pull myself out of the pits I had just fallen. Then maybe I could avoid the losing, the shame, the pain. If only the world wasn't so cruel to me. If only I didn't have to deal with the pain, the agony, or the agony of defeat, then I wouldn't feel this way. Yet a defeated I am. I have lost this game. I am defeated in my foolishness and because my foolishness. I have all of this to square with but I have a hope to learn, and learn I will.

I want to learn balance because my views are jaded. I want to know the difference between too much and when you get too close to too much. I want to know what is too little and when I should start to complain. I want to know what is good and what is bad. I want to know what I should entertain, how much, and what of it is dangerous. I want to know at least. I hope this quest doesn't lead me to put my hand into a pit of vipers to extract diamonds. I don't want to linger on the edge of Niagra while enjoying the view. Yet, I feel that is what I am doing. I deny that the inevitable will occur. Lack of balance leads to pain, which is the consequence for my foolishness.

Today I lost. I lost without saying a word. I lost her for a moment then got her back, without a word. But I still lost, and felt more pain from the momentary loss though I had gained in the end. The glass was half empty for me you could say. Where, though, is the balance in this regard? What good can I glean from this experience? When will I learn? I suppose that is all a future time. But as for today I was humbled. I was humbled by myself, my feelings, my desires, and her. And THAT, I will never forget.

Bitter Sweet

And there they both stood, but she was in red
I walked. I approached with a million things in my head
It's usually curly but this day it was straight
to sit down so quiet and wonder my fate

And there I sat acting all coy
while I listened to them talk to another boy
checked my wallet for no reason
her hair's a nice shade--like leaves in fall season

And there I got up and took my first glance
I thought to myself, "I don't even have a chance."
One look then another because her beauty does exude
No smile, no hi and I knew it was rude

And so I left not knowing how to feel
but she was too good for me, so it couldn't be real
I did know I acted a fool
although I know many girls, I sit by myself at school

And so I went home to lie down and think
as hard as I tryed I couldn't sleep a wink
I won't lead anyone on, though, and I won't play any games
the only thing I want now is to know what is her name

humbled and dejected - i think it's a great piece, shogun. : ) there are some suggestions i would make, just to help with the flow, but like i told you before, it's your work and the completion is really something the writer needs to feel.

i would classify this as prose. prose is basically something written in paragraph format and somehow lryical and poetic at the same time. i mean, there are probably guidelines for such a thing, but when it comes to something creative i dont tend to follow any set pattern. it all seems so subjective, you know? : )

but, it's a good write and i thank you for sharing it with me.

What makes them so special?


Why do I remember a pretty face and why are some so arousing that I lock them away in my heart? Do I want that pretty face? How do I know when see a pretty face? Do they even know they are pretty or does someone have to tell them for affirmation? Is there power in being pretty?

Today was like any other day; filled with joy, glee, anxiety, turmoil and of course, loss. Through part of the day the good outweighed the bad, then the bad seemed to topple the good with ease. The joy overtaken by the anxiety and the glee by the turmoil. I felt this. I saw this.

I saw what I wanted to see and what I hoped to forget. I saw what I hoped to be permanance and realized that which was fleeting. Today I saw two girls, and they were pretty. One right after the other and they got me to think.

Why do I inflict these emotional blows upon my frail existence? She was worth it. She had long hair that seemed to flow back like a stallion. She has the self-dignified trot of a champion horse. She's got a cute voice with a cute personality to match. Her body very much obvious, but intentions very coy. She knows how to catch all eyes, though, and loves every second.

That's her. That's what I fell for. I fell for someone I know I would not possess. But that was just a prelude to my cavil exploitations of the day.

She is so distinct. I knew who it was from half the building away, one side only, with only part of her in my view, and only for a few seconds. That was her, and I knew it. She has a china doll complextion with jet black hair. Her eyes carry no seduction but her lips could speak to a man without word. A timeless beauty that god not disturb. She sat tranquil and lively as I passed. This one is much in regards a woman, and other like a little girl. Her body is very mature but the mind has a few steps to catch up. But despite this seemingly maturity(or the lack thereof) along with her appearance, she has become something exclusive, something special. Special to me and to everyone else.

They are the objects of cravings and means for satisfaction. They both know that "all the guys want them." They both know all about the "typical guy." They are suited like Penelope in the absence of Odysseus. They both know that they are pleasing to the eye, and they like it. And that's where they are different from that venerable women. They doth give. They doth give in. This is the mark on their soul. This is the scarlet letter hanging from their neck. This is the stigma that they don't know about, and might not consider. But I do.

They both were special to me. Both were sterling silver to me. Aptly, they are now tarnished to some unfair degree in my mind. They are people I'd like to garnish, if at all possible and if I actually could. Not to satiate my own selfish desires, but for the sake of sakes, and for the sake of unadulterated status.

I want that. They meant that much. They mean that much, and yet they don't even know.

There they were today: one walking past me and the other sitting as I passed her.

How fitting.

How do you know if you are in love?

Would you know you were in love by the look in his eyes
or a well placed compliment that caught you by surprise
is it love when you still have hope
when no matter what he's done you are willing to cope?

would you know love was love because of the way that you felt
that no matter what he's done or the pain he has dealt
that no one could change your mind or your joy steal
because you feel - you love, so then it must be real

Would you know it was love no matter how much time passed
cause when you look back you see that it went by fast
and no matter the time you might always be there
and wait for the time each other you will share

Would you still think it was love if you saw him with someone else
would you cry, would you talk, would you stay by yourself
would you let your heart fall into the ocean and sink
I wonder about you and what you would think

we want what we love and love what we see
we see what is good because we want to believe

What makes them so special?


Why do I remember a pretty face? Why are some so arousing that I lock them away in my heart? Do I want that pretty face? How do I know when see a pretty face? Do they know they are pretty? Does someone have to tell them for affirmation, or do they innately know? Is there power in being pretty?
the opening is good, but you may be able to help the flow here by joining some of the questions together.

such as: why do i remember a pretty face and why are some so arousing that i lock them away in my heart.

Today was like any other day. Today was filled with joy, glee, anxiety, turmoil, and of course loss.
again, you could join these two sentences to help with flow. :)

'today was like any other day; filled with joy, glee, anxiety, turmoil and of course, loss.'

Through part of the day the good outweighed the bad, then the bad seemed to topple the good with ease. It was just like any other day, though. I saw what I wanted to see and what I hoped to forget. I saw what I hoped to be permanance and realized that which was fleeting. Today I saw a girl, and she was pretty. Nay, I saw two of them.
you might be able to excise: it was just like any other day, though.

and keep the flow smooth. : )

you could also move: nay, i saw two of them.

just for more impact on the fact that you saw two instead of one.

Why do I inflict these emotional blows upon my frail existence? She was worth it. She had long hair that seemed to flow back like a stallion. She has the self-dignified trot of a champion horse. She's got a cute voice with a cute personality to match. Her body very much obvious, but intentions very coy. She knows how to catch all eyes, though, and loves every second. That's her. That's what I fell for, and it hurt every second. But that was just a prelude to my cavil exploitations of the day.
good paragraph, but might be improved if you split at: that's her. : )

She is so distinct. I knew who it was from half the building away, one side only, with only part of her in my view, and only for a few seconds. That was her, and I knew it. She has a china doll complextion with jet black hair. Her eyes carry no seduction but her lips could speak to a man without word. A timeless beauty that god not disturb. She sat tranquil and lively as I passed. This one is much in regards a woman, and other like a little girl. It is this seemingly maturity(or the lack thereof) along with her appearance that makes her something else, that makes her special. Special to me and to everyone else.

this reads a littie awkward:
This one is much in regards a woman, and other like a little girl. It is this seemingly maturity(or the lack thereof) along with her appearance that makes her something else, that makes her special.

They are the objects of cravings and means for satisfaction. They both know that "all the guys want them." They both know all about the "typical guy." They are suited like Penelope in the abscence of Odysseus. They both know that they are pleasing to the eye, and they like it. And that's where they are different from that venerable women. They doth give. They doth give in. This is the mark on their soul. This is the scarlett letter hanging from their neck. This is the stigma that they don't know about, and might not consider. But I do.
good paragraph, but with a few misspellings. : )

They both were special to me. Both were sterling silver to me. Aptly, they are now tarnished to some unfair degree in my mind. They are people I'd like to garnish, if at all possible and if I actually could. Not to satiate my own selfish desires, but for the sake of sakes, and for the sake of unadulterated status. I want that. They meant that much. They mean that much, and yet they don't even know. There they were today: one walking past me and the other sitting as I passed her. How fitting.
this is a good closing but may have more impact if you split it up. : )

example:
They both were special to me. Both were sterling silver, to me. Aptly, they are now tarnished to some unfair degree in my mind. They are people I'd like to garnish, if at all possible and if I actually could. Not to satiate my own selfish desires, but for the sake of sakes, and for the sake of unadulterated status.

I want that. They meant that much. They mean that much, and yet they don't even know.

There they were today: one walking past me and the other sitting as I passed her.

How fitting.
----
please remember, the prose is perfect, just the way that it is. it always is. because poetry is merely an expression of the artist's thoughts on life, but to paper. it never wrong, it is never right. it just is. :)

i hope that i have not offended you with my suggestions. my suggestions were merely guided toward flow, as you asked. :)

How do you know if you are in love?

Would you know you were in love by the look in his eyes
or a well placed compliment that caught you by surprise
is it love when you still have hope
when no matter what he's done you are willing to cope?
good opening. : )

Would you know love was love because the way that you felt
that no matter what he's done or the pain he has dealt
that no one change your mind or your joy steal
because what you feel you love, so then it must real
suggestions:

adding the word 'of' to first line to read: would you know love was love because of the way that you felt

adding the word 'could' to second line to read: that no one could change your mind or your joy steal

adding the word 'be' to last line to read: because you feel - you love, so then it must be real

:)
Would you know it was love no matter how much time passed
cause when you look back you see that it went by fast
and no matter the time you might always be there
and wait for the time each other you will share
good stanza : )

Would you still think it was love if you saw him with someone else
would you cry, would you talk, would you stay by yourself
would you let your heart fall into the ocean and sink
I that. I wonder what would you think
im not sure what you are saying in the last line. : )

we want what we love and love what we see
we see what is good because we want to believe
good strong closing. : )

nice sonnet. :)

I wanna girl who's straight killa!
someone who's trained in the city of Manilla
fast paced and neva stilla
if not I'll settle for GodZilla

he's always down to pillage and plunder
every movie he's bringing the thunder
flame thrower status to take Tokyo under
cutting, splitting and sawing asunder

if not I can't have either I would like a taser
something like star trek to shoot out lasers
stun and kill I'll set those phasers
that's what I want. fast on the draw like the Lone Blazer

Who shall remained unnamed

"Words, words, words," said Hamlett.
Obstacles are overcome by these sweet melodies
Ripples that build momentum until they gather trust
Dosages of attention; who can deny
Social animals and creatures of habit, are we not

Timid and tactful to let anyone in
"He'll come. He'll go," she says, "because he does not know where to begin."
AH! his is getting predictable and who really cares. but
Try for her thoughts beyond that blank, emotionless stare

Curse this heart for the affection it shows
Under I'll hide beneath my pillow
'Til each of them falls that the world may never know

Razorblade eyes with a tongue able to cut
An identity secure beyond a great door
Zues in all his might, too, left with it shut
Ostentatious, yet unbeknownst they adore
Restless seas and high are the swells that
Banish the weak to their ultimate end
Longing for the passage out of this - her personal hell
Anxious though silent so into the background she can blend
Detour
Exteriors not wanted; they are opique at best
So distinct because she's succinct, and that will have you wanting more
(just like the rest)

Hey! I finally got to read some of your work. I like it. My favorite is the one talking about being a shadow in the dark and I also like "A melody in my Head". you know it's funny, all these years I've known you, I had no idea you were a writer and a good one at that. Just don't let it go to your head!

Indian Mistress

Case Closed

Letting go is never easy. It’s never easy as I would like.
It’s the idea of entitlement that I haven’t really let go of.
I’m not the only one with this problem since all men are alike.
Each has this idea that they are capable of wooing such love.
Wishful thinking leads us to pursue like an animal.
We grasp for such things that are out of reach, transient and inane.
Worn by the chase: the taste eventually becomes dull
Impulse compels us to make decisions that are not sane.
How gross to have little to no control.
With reluctance and disdain we consort.
A fester’s disease seeps past the organs into the soul
This septic the bloodstream will casually escort
Moved to action past all moral sense
Stubborn for success I’d rather stab myself all over
Sit and watch me walk away into the past tense
It’s to these distant and mysterious lands that he’d become a rover
How deviously the man’s conscience will treat him.
This high moral agent is not better than fool’s intuition.
Fettered and dragged toward the pleasure that is interim.
The onlookers watch the ogre’s desperation
What good are we if not for shame?
Forget me and let me fall to the wayside please
So I could be accountable to no one and free from blame
Heave the ice upon me so my sores’ heat appease
Let me go you wretched and grotesque beast!
Let me close my eyes to dream
Let me find the most albeit the least
And against you, oh self, victory I’ll scheme

Breaking my concentration

Today
and every other day
pulled by gravity of beauty
my eyes wander throughout the stars of heaven
past cloud 9 and
far from Neverland
I picture myself
with just one
of these holy angels
hoping that there is something I
can give them or
show them something they haven't seen
this is the seed of my desperation:
not knowing what to do and
not wanting to give up
thoughts
of them
consume my every bit of time
breaking my concentration all
day long
what am I to do?
seems like when I try not to
I try harder
swung round and round
my eyes moves round and round
they are all around
I can't get away
the stars are everywhere

Not me

Couldn't be, could it?
Who am I or
what have I done
safe to say that it catches me off guard
and even puts me in denial
there are types and levels
have I been propelled?
or has she descended to this
modest and sometimes lonely platform
overwhelmed
what must I say or what must I do
problematic
dilemma
pragmatic
I'll do my best keeping quiet
I'll do my best when talking
idle no more
I'll meet her halfway
effort
confidence
opportunity
I'll do my best to identify
I'll do my best to take it
overthinking or overanalyzing no more
I'll just let the ball roll and
see where it stops
choice
yeah it's all hers now
between her man and me

Wondering what they are thinking

Seems I don't walk around natural anymore.
I'm wondering what they are thinking
and trying to make my best impression
the best impression
the first impression, as it were
a good impression,
like all the other times. I
win
I get
what I want
though that may not mean
the bliss every other guy
wishes
for, you know?
or do you? I wouldn't be
suprised if you didn't know
or didn't care.
It isn't beyond all, just the
short sided and socialized. And really
who am I to jugde since I'm
still wondering what they are thinking
yet he doesn't care
he doesn't know half the time
or is oblivious to their
interest; attraction;
plight; desperation,
quiet as it may be.
I know, because I ask and recieve
it is all the same. I don't know
how each of them thinks since I haven't asked
all of them, but I have an idea how
they think and
it is what they think
is what gets me to wonder
sometimes.

Armor Piercing


Straight through your carefully constructed exterior
you believed it was supported and thick enough
You had yet to meet me
your smile morphed into fear as you approached
your face turned red
it was funny. it was obvious.
listening to your words was like listening to a child read:
without fluency or confidence
every one of your steps calculated hoping not to slip
out of compassion did I speak to you with warmth
I loosened your hands from around your neck
but the evolution was interesting
you went from confident to compact to casual
all because of me
Straight to your heart I saw everything
I saw your act. I saw your emotions. I saw your thoughts
It was obvious, I tell you.
And you left thinking you won or did something great.
You lost buddy. It was too easy.

Don't you just love goodbyes

I thought saying goodbye was hard.
I just said good bye and went to sleep right after.
I didn't wake up thinking of you nor
did I think of you when I was walking
I just kept on going as if
nothing even happened
I forgot everything that we did together
like those times when I held you
I had to think hard when and where
or when you finally trusted me with your feelings
I honestly can't remember what you said.
Sad? na. more like Ho Hum--indifferent
it happens, trust me.
you'll get over it...just cross your fingers
ah, they say lightning doesn't strike twice
but what do they know
they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, too
you'll learn that it's just a phase
like me
yeah, it was that easy. I think
the only reason
I'm telling you is because you asked
and I didn't want to be a jerk.

speaking from experience

burning bridges with every chance
looking back at the rumble but for only a glance
'til I cower and turn to a colorless expanse

Now you know how I feel

What if there was a chance? What if? what IF? No I suppose it would take a bigger man, no? Someone with a sense of self, or without sense (acuity), full of confidence? I'll check to see if I find him then tell you. Lord knows you deserve the best.

I'mperfect



I see damaged, frizzy hair

you see strands of sunlight, so radiant..
fire cannot compare


I see tired, bloodshot eyes

you see jewels of ambition, the gateway
to my soul, beneath them lies


I see dry, dull lips

you see luscious pillows of heaven, the taste
of perfection, and you want a sip


I see an imperfect reflection

you see the love of your life,
the object of your affection

Call it unfair

Call it unfair but you are a ho
you are mere spectacle
a crown of ostracism I will bestow
desecrated and greater than tarnished
for the jizz you are but a receptacle

Where is your intelligence you ho?
where has all your grandeur and majesty gone
worthy of nothing, the dirt on my feet you are below
you are beyond redemption and common man's mercy
no longer your body, but to his whim you belong

Where would the world be without *****s like you?
people who take their sanctity for granted
what filth. what chastity. whom else will you delude
When did you forget or when did you disregard
the gift you were given, the one that he planted

Why don't you care that you are a ho?
why don't words affect you. or do they
is there power, might, choice you can show
what validates your actions
tell me. show me. your mindset relay

What is their to gain from being a ho
what could you say to someone like me
really, I would like to know
is attention the reason you do what you do
or from social norms do you find liberty

Is it really unfair to call you a ho?
or should I just call you a human
would that now be apropos
call it a truce.I will suspend this rant
you know I love you. this coming from a friend

Dear Angela

I lost count how many times.
I wanted to tell you how I felt
the expressions in my heart and thoughts in my head
yet when next to the pool I succumbed to dread

Forgive me for not taking your hand
or enveloping you in my arms. I missed out
feeling your body warmth next to mine
moving over every curve, marveling at design

I've yearned for long to look deep into your eyes
for once I would forget the world and take my time.
trying to speak in unorthodox ways
I'd reach right in and sincerity convey

Oh how I have coveted those lips
I would have stolen Their fire
condemmed for all time to experience the good
yet shout out in triumph that on Olympus I have stood

I should have siezed the chance to call you beautiful
how the sun wouldn't set unless it saw your face
the trees would stare silently in awe as you paced
that even Father Time's pencil is unable to erase

I lost count how many times I wanted to tell you I love you
I was afraid--I love you
I was unsure--I love you
...I was afraid
If I only know you felt the same, I would have told you
I love you

I will always remember, Dear Angela

There are some problems I have with the idea of hell. First off, if you believe in a God of infinite good creating an infinite penalty box for a finite amount of sin then you need some debugging. If you believe that it is possible to commit an offense so great as to retain an infinite amount of sin (and thus worthy of hellfire) then you have some poor views of your fellow man.

Man is good. We **** up, but 99% of the time we mean well. And even if we don't mean well, there is always a reason. No one can even contemplate when inifnity is, let alone infinite sin.


I imagine God is a nice guy with a decent mind for physics and morality. It's an easy thought to live with.

Broken Hearts & Stolen Kisses

Why are we nervous when we see each other?
I'm nervous because i think I have a chance
but you're nervous even though you know i don't
I can tell there's nothing obscuring your view but
i'd rather have you tell me than beat around it
i'd rather be over it than have this uneasy wonder
being struck bluntly hurts but only for a while
it's being drug across the glass that concerns me
leave me without out doubt and i will leave you be
believe me when I say moving on isn't hard
trust me if I tell you I will forget I cared
I can let go only after you let go
I will let go if you will let go
or is it just amuzing to read my emotions?
is the control of motioning them satisfying
is it worth hurting me to feel sexy
do you justify the tease by feeling pleased
what kind of ransom would I have to pay to get my heart back
or is validation too dense a substance
you tell me
but quickly, because there are others
those that want their chance
give it back to me: I can peice it back together
and those in your back pocket, they were meant for someone else

tell me your secrets and i'll keep them intact. in fact, i'll lock them away with mine discreetly. i'll open my mouth and let you pour them inside, crack open my heart and secure them in concrete completely. we can share the spot where mine hide. it might be close, a compact intimate space. in fact, you'll have to hold on tight because there's never been more than me in this place. it could be great, it could be even better then that, you could shed some light in the middle of this lonely pitch black. in fact, i wish you would. clear out the cobwebs, confess to eachother constantly and provide eachother immediately with the good we know we lack. too bad these are just my secrets we speak of and i got stuck dreaming sidetracked. too bad these honest words are fiction and i'm stuck living in fact.

-Mallory

Watching from every angle
peeking past corners and through tinted glasses
making sure you don't see me at my most desperate
savoring every moment knowing its not my last
Lethal

infatuation and false sense of love
forged through time, these feelings build
they've whispered sweet words of treachery
knowing you're the only one yet we contrast
Lethal

a picture in my mind and reason left behind
beyond my better judgment i continue
through the astonishment and molevolence of others
unconcerned with complete disregard of my past
Lethal

but now lets say i saw you look too
or behind your aviators i noticed want
each of your steps was labored and uncoordinated
you wanted my eyes on you, but didn't want to ask
Lethal?

let me tell you how many times i counted
you turn around or turned around!
i felt your feelings feel my face
tracing my profile up and down, but you didn't want to ask
Lethal

and as we passed each other each day
wondering what the other thought
knowing what the other thought
we thought about each other, but didn't want to ask
Lethal!

a rose at your doorstep late,a rustling in the leaves
a glance becomes a look becomes a sinister's stare
and what was gorgeous became grotesque
but let me tell you...it was all because I didn't ask
Lethal

She asked me how I was doing. I told her I was dehydrated and heart broken. Nothing could have been better.

I was on the verge of disassembling from the bottom up. Coming apart from the seams as if someone has been loosening the bolts all along. I wanted to be happy, that's all. The view was unobscured by the unmerciful sorrow. But all I suppose all good things weren't meant to last. And now I have one less worry.

Nothing could have be further from the truth. I wasn't sad but I wasn't sure either...who could deliver me from this closed conundrum? The conversation went well though, because she answered it with persuasion and a convincing tone. It was just what I needed.

She told me that somethings weren't meant to be. That you weren't supposed to be happy, and that anything grievous that had befallen me was and could and should be attributed to myself. She further went on to elaborate that all bad is a consequence of the good I wasn't able to achieve, no matter the intent. It all made sense.

Maybe what I want isn't want they want, and what they are looking for isn't in line with what I have. The effort could easily be vain, but I was told it's not the end that matters, it how you played the game. Sad, cause I had thought I had already grown up. But what she said was true, that to be I must work to be, and tighten the bolts a little more.

Trying wasn't the important thing, the gaining was, and I was out to do that (from that point on). Until I realize I am in trouble again, thhen I will promptly search for that wisdom that so briefly lifted the reality that encases the world I see.

tell me your secrets and i'll keep them intact. in fact, i'll lock them away with mine discreetly. i'll open my mouth and let you pour them inside, crack open my heart and secure them in concrete completely. we can share the spot where mine hide. it might be close, a compact intimate space. in fact, you'll have to hold on tight because there's never been more than me in this place. it could be great, it could be even better then that, you could shed some light in the middle of this lonely pitch black. in fact, i wish you would. clear out the cobwebs, confess to eachother constantly and provide eachother immediately with the good we know we lack. too bad these are just my secrets we speak of and i got stuck dreaming sidetracked. too bad these honest words are fiction and i'm stuck living in fact.

-Mallory
perfect. : )

I couldn't figure out why I go out of control, so I asked her. She was forthcoming, as she always is. It was the best time of my life.

She started off by telling me that there was a difference between discretion and being discreet. "But wait," I told her, aren't they synonomous. She avoided the question but asserted that they things are not similar as they seem from the outside or the inside for that matter.

The difference between the two was stark however the traits and mannerisms and desires were shrouded in grey. Composed of the same matter it was only logical, though at times emotion overwhelms most. And so I told her that she couldn't have been more correct. But the lingering question of "how" dangled as it was too far out from the platform I stood upon.

Being upfront isn't the way to go. The last thing you want to do is give them everything at once. I liken it to shoving spoon fulls of tapioca into a baby's mouth; they seem to always turn away - in disgust. Magic she said. But I was left to wonder and wander.

I don't believe if fairy dust. "But everyone wants to be Cinderella," she told me. "You mean everyone wants to be abused and taken for granted?!!!" She kept silent and so I figured she was either correct or upset. No she said in a controlled manner, they want a man to chase. "To chase, not beg."

I couldn't have said it better myself.

I couldn't figure out why I go out of control, so I asked her. She was forthcoming, as she always is. It was the best time of my life.

She started off by telling me that there was a difference between discretion and being discreet. "But wait," I told her, aren't they synonomous. She avoided the question but asserted that they things are not similar as they seem from the outside or the inside for that matter.

The difference between the two was stark however the traits and mannerisms and desires were shrouded in grey. Composed of the same matter it was only logical, though at times emotion overwhelms most. And so I told her that she couldn't have been more correct. But the lingering question of "how" dangled as it was too far out from the platform I stood upon.

Being upfront isn't the way to go. The last thing you want to do is give them everything at once. I liken it to shoving spoon fulls of tapioca into a baby's mouth; they seem to always turn away - in disgust. Magic she said. But I was left to wonder and wander.

I don't believe if fairy dust. "But everyone wants to be Cinderella," she told me. "You mean everyone wants to be abused and taken for granted?!!!" She kept silent and so I figured she was either correct or upset. No she said in a controlled manner, they want a man to chase. "To chase, not beg."

I couldn't have said it better myself.
i like it. :)

Even my dearest


Even my dearest

makes me wonder why I cherish or adore

or invest my time into a *****

bitter, only a little, but I hate being ignored

never in a million years would I have predicted this was in store

I don't care about some random myspace girl

or those that cling to my shirt

it was her, and for three years she was closest

how easily opinions change how fast a human can make up their mind

and what was mutual is torn in three

and I, well I was left behind

for just this moment I will lament, "Woe is Me!"

because many have come and gone; many and numerous

but it was you I knew and you knew me back

there was almost even an 'us'

so close so close but it wasn't enough, and now I feel it in my back

that all was for not...can you imagine

or will you even bother to invest that kind of time

it hurts FM it hurts, but I guess all wounds heal in time

but this one went past my heart and down into my soul... can you imagine

I don't want this to be my last memory of you

I don't want to be bitter or resentful when

I have so many other good ones of me and you

but this one is like a shadow of a mountain that covers the others

I guess all fairy tales don't have nice endings

...I know this one doesn't

Would it be ok to tell you I thought of you yesterday? I hope so. It's not often that I keep a smile and laugh in my head. And at least here I can watch and not worry.

I had to take walk last night. The time allowed me to run a thousand scenarios in my head and the cool air funnel down my lungs and cooled my heart. I was anxious and I didn't know why. I was worried though I wasn't in any danger of anything. I was happy and I didn't have anything to be happy about. Let me tell you it's gone beyond desire, and now depserate.

I watch as you sit there unaware. You have your legs crossed and you are talking to someone else. I don't mind. This is sort of where I want to be. And although being closer is that which I covet, the rays eminating forth feed my soul.

Smile at me, and I'll approach. Let me know there is a chance. I wouldn't be wasting our time if that were to happen. How else am I supposed to know what to do, or better, when to do it. I'm waiting. It isn't any kind of fear, just that maybe....you know? Well, that's how I see it.

Van Gogh, Picasso, Rembrandt? No this what I am watching far exceeds them. And this is what makes me happy. I hope that is ok.

I don't have much time so I have to tell you I love you as fast as I can. I don't know where to begin though. Would you mind helping me out? Because I know there is more than your physical beauty that I can mention.

Is you laugh considered physical? I don't know, but I can't get enough of it. That's why I love to make you laugh, and smile, until your tummy and cheeks hurt. It gives me this weird feeling or sense of joy even-if I could honestly describe it accurately, I would, just believe that I do it only for you though.

I notice the little things, the subtle changes. It can be in your appearance or even your attitude for the day. I notice when you just put high lights in your hair. I notice what your favorite color is. I can appreciate why you use certain colors in your make-up because they work for you and others just don't. Past those not so obvious I sense your mood for the day. Anger and irritation is pretty visible but so is a concerned heart. Trust, I know when you are thinking and most times what you are thinking about. Sometimes I don't know why, but I can definately tell. I want to help, but it's best most times to let you go it alone. I'll help you talk it off if you want, and most times you won't notice I'm doing it, just that I am.

Have you seen yourself at ease? Well, I have. Have you seen yourself content and or comfortable? Have you noticed when you can relax finally when you are around someone? I know trust is hard to earn and give. I wouldn't tell you to trust me, but give me a chance and I'll earn it and never betray it. I'm not the typical guy, and I'm sure you are able to see past my physical appearance and realize that. Well, that's what I'm hoping for.

p.s Good Bye

:)...

I'm looking down her shirt and she doesn't even know. She doesn't even know!

It's a V-cut shirt or sometimes in shaped like a U. Doesn't really matter, since it shows the same thing. Breast. It's plummage. The color isn't really a huge issue, but some of the darker color shirts accentuate them. It's incredible let me tell you.

Cleavage is an amazing idea. It is potent. A caustic tool for enticing and I can peer all day. I look and enjoy. It's satisfaction. It's suggestive. I have got a ton of ideas going through my head and not one of them nice or clean. I've got what's natural telling me this is the one...These are it and will suffice.

Sustenace of life. That is what they are telling to me. But I don't want to hear that. I want to hear the sweat songs of lust. I don't want to know that they are really not for me, despite the areolar, the softness, the roundness, the appeal. Lest Darwin be upright, I will not believe. Because there is more that me here working.

Her sex is apparent and she likes it. She shows them off for the attention - it is always about the attention. She knows that I'm looking. You know sometimes she even covers her shirt with her books, or coat or arms. I notice that. But it don't make sense when you've got a shirt that isn't designed that way. It isn't like her shirt droops down accidently! It's very deliberate. There is a gaping slit down to between her breasts cupping her luscious, symetrical possesions. And right before she left her house she checked to see if they were positioned just right...according the the owner's manual. And yet they say they are overrated.

Fake boobs are cheating. If girls didn't put much value on them, why would they long for bigger boobs, or envy a girl with a great set. You know men can't go out and buy confidence. They can't buy that sweet line that makes a girl melt. Yet girls can go up until their hearts content, or back can't handle that kind of rack. All the while laughing as they lavish the fact that they are not real, and these dummies have no clue.

Just don't call me a pervert. Don't go ahead and presume I'm desperate. There's more than me working here. Quit being pretentious as if you don't want it. You want your shirt off. You want my eyes, I just have to be a little more discreet. Let me be practice, and I'll be confident in my abilities.

I'm trying to say it with a straight face
But seems honesty is discouraged
Well, a certain kind knocks one out of place
'Be forward' or 'Be emotional' is how I'm encouraged
Oh how disgusting the idea it seems to them
"It's weakness; he's a puss"
It is with those eyes and thougths my anger stems
so them I'm left with my own instincts to trust:
I take and I leave
they've hung on me, they've stalked, and looked like fools
O mighty, O beautiful. who now is the one bereaved
Yet hidden on your nose are your very wants
I understand the language. I understand your mind
I am not for either, beholding what is gaunt
what eludes me is not what is touched or felt, it is what no one else can find
or found. I sound. I hear the sound and skulk.
it's truth it's vacant and with my pulchritude
and to my chest, and heart and shoulders to enhace the appearence of bulk
stumbling once again, choking on my platitudes
For what is strength?
and how will confidence coexist with arrogance
who can measure the equal, or pander down the length
more stifling is when a man shall cry
those with the gift are no help, and employ thier subterfuge
conflicting conclusions, both easily to decry
left in this dispicable and lamtentful state, with no choice but to rouge

but let me tell you that is not me
if you would only le me show you

ps. love is more than touching

For green eye shadow and penguin shocks


I bet you wouldn't believe it if I told you now
that's partly why I kept it, this, to myself
and as time passes I only think of what if
or what other pains I have to endure
let's just say I think of you often and
my decision. I'm trying new ways to say the same thing
to no avail it hurts like the first time
the last time was the worst because
I stayed up til 2 writing poetry in my head about you
thinking of how I watched your interest wane
I'm guessing it'll be the same
with the others, though I'll consider you the first
you were the reason I got into emo
the reason I bought the used, the reason I stayed
just to see your face, to hear you laugh, to listen to you bitch
there wasn't a second I didn't enjoy myself around you
talking about you or me or whatever
if there was something for me to play
that you wanted, you only had to ask
I might as well, since the emotion I put into every key
was associated with every thought and memory of you
but the world has no time for silly games
and your world has no time for stupid poetry
mine has only begun and soon will not exist
I'm trying to find catharsis or solace
I'm hoping that what I feel now is not love
because I know infatuation fades with time
so for now pretend we never met
and for me I'm keeping those feelings locked away
if ever another day
I'll tell you I'll tell you I'll tell you
I bet you didn't believe I felt this way, huh?

nameless


left with no choice I have to leave
I can't and couldn't so I don't
expect you to understand nor cleave
and I'm sure you being you you won't
but for what it's worth I'll utter these words
once for the sake of my cherished
not the three that you know but the three unheard
exclusive only to those and which is unperished
I'll make a pact with myself to never forget
nor wind nor water nor time erodes
a day of days where the sun refuses to set
where signs where words where judgement forbodes
shall be your face shall be my heart shall be that phrase
I'm powerless. honestly.
I'm watching your eyes as they fill with disappointment
yet those tears never fall, just hang hopelessly
you're not the only one being hurt by this treatment
you are beautiful, I love you, no one else
pummeled again I can't withstand these blows
yet no one I know is willing to help so I'll say:
I must go

he was all shook up and couldn't mention her name
:nonono:

So what's new? I actually sent you some pictures of the place, but I guess they didn't go through. I also tryed to phone you but I guess either my phone didn't reach or the number changed.

I'm right here in San Diego and it's pretty nice. The weather is the bomb-not too humid/hot and not too cold/rainy. I know you've got a little of both but right here its right in the middle. Good stuff.

Classes are ok. I did ok on my first two tests. I should have gotten A's. It's like I always will get 4-6 wrong no matter how big. The bigger the test, the better the grade. But when it's a small test and I get 4-6 wrong, it ends up to being one letter grade or a B. Arggg!!!

Anyways just thinking of you, that pretty face, and how it is up there in the Pacific NorthWest. Take care and see you soon.

:) <3

i like your prose, shogun. thank you for sharing.

that's actually are real letter, but I saw how it sounded like prose, and so I put it in here.:D

thanks seeker!

Oh men, how easily we fall in love.
how the fall is and
how depressing the ascent up can be
I've given my power to them just
by looking, by admiring their
beauty. their appeal
its devastating to the heart
because the heart can't deal with loss
with rejection

i take it back. you can't help me. you can't even hear me
or listen to my words. and the curses you insert into
your phrases only deepen the swords.
that you threw in my face so casually this evening
when i called and asked for a hand
and the poison on each of those sharp consonants
i still can't understand.
so i take it back. you can't help me. the explosion
timer is sounding off.
t-minus ten to oblivion and smithereens
when the outline of you and i becomes dusty chalk.
just twenty minutes of sympathy,
that warm ear i used to bend so frequently,
those sweet eyes that used to see inside my soul
have replaced themselves with confusing black coal.
so i take it back now. you can't help me.
the solution is to be found some where else.
call off the army, the navy, and all of the infantries
it's become a battle between my and myself.

Jumping through hoops and crawling under fences
another gone, another too far away
interesting as I roles reverse and minds change
maintaining the cool exterior is possible but only for a while
engineering feats for survival to no avail

Looking for answers in questions
enveloped in futile excercises of pursuit
ending what I didnt begin, and what i didnt end

Just in case I come across it again
on other planets or life times
nieve or just foolhardy, I took the plunge
emo, just for a night
silly boys, tricks are for kids