Thursday, June 1, 2017
mystery
mystery
the beautiful body
of love lay dead
pale white in a pool
of blood red
and beside her lay
the lusty knife
that pierced her breast
and released her life
and an unsigned note
which simply said
befor i killed love
love was already dead
copyright 2016
Tuesday, May 23, 2017
to die today
to die today
to self to sin
His will His way
to do till death
i plead i pray
to endure to end
and be above
with Lord with love
His gift His grace
to me the mercy
forever for eternity
to God the glory
copyright 2016
lonely love and broken dream
lonely love and broken dream both lay dead
side by side buried beneath a setting sun
cry not nor care for unfulfilled desires bed
nor for those things unknown and undone
mark not the sight of their grievous grave
forget their faces and the pleasures they gave
keep not memories nor reminders save
leave them with lonely love and broken dream in grave
copyright 2016
you and i
you and i
embrace
and occupy
the same space
a small place
known as
here and now
that somehow
we fill with love
rising above
the all around
and reaching for
the forevermore
that's never found
knowing you and i
will only die
in each other's heart
never parting
yet torn apart
not loving
yet love still
for love wants
yet has not the will
copyright 2016
a hurting heart
a hurting heart that never heals
passion and pain it forever feels
always breaking and still it breaks
giving everything and nothing takes
hollowness is felt with every bleeding beat
till emptiness fills it wholly complete
nothing to comfort or for it to cure
yet in desolation it does endure
a broken heart that still breaks
a forsaken heart that never forsakes
copyright 2016
Monday, April 10, 2017
she is happiness
she is happiness
and she does't know
she is beautiful
and she does't think so
she is everything
and the reason i go
she is happiness
and she is sorrow
she is loved
and she does't know
copyright 2016
i remember
I remember
when i was younger
spending the very
last of my
pocket money
for a City Lights
pocket book
of poetry
i can't remember
it was either
Prévert or Corso
or maybe
Ferlinghetti
but i do remember
it would never
no matter
how much
i wanted to be
make any
poet of me
copyright 2016
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