Poetry Blogs (goodbyes)
Stay with me dont leave me in this dark valley
Lay on my emotions pet them tell them it can all go away
Everytime im sleepless i have images of our times coming and going
Eventually youll walk in that fire and understand the burning
Peoplw will walk in an ember from hell just to find out where your going
Will we fall to our senses and stumble down lonely park drive
I see the s...
Tuesday 19th January 2021 4:21 pm
Past has always chased Future's Present;
for Past envies its favored presence.
Mockery laced with lust
as injections plump busts.
Yet, Children of the Sun
will remain to be shunned.
Hot remains split like us
till we reach Exodus!
Hollowed we lie down deep;
your ass best wake from sleep!
Past was shiny, now played out.
Present is dying and s...
Sunday 19th May 2019 9:01 pm
In Elbow Yard the walls are thin
between this world and the next.
We communicate through clairvoyants
because we couldn’t handle text.
But that’s all right mate,
that’s pretty cool,
you didn’t like clowns
and I’m the fool.
In Elbow Yard the darkness reigns
and death dances out of sight
ready to drag us to his ballroom,
illuminated in pale g...
Monday 19th March 2018 8:05 pm
All the goodbyes Ive never said
They haunt me, like some unfinished business.
Im always wondering who is away from me, that is not supposed to be.
Who did I cast away after prides were hurt?
Where are those who hesitantly walked away, while they looked back and noticed I wasnt following?
Oh, who are you kidding?
You give way too many chances.
With some, you...
Thursday 8th March 2018 12:30 pm
It all felt like it happened yesterday
When you and I finally stayed away
I love you is an empty word we say
When we have no intention to stay
We never stopped trying
Keeping us from hurting
More than what is intended
From all the past lies
Beneath our shaking hands and hidden scars
Of broken promises and empty vows
Loaded guns that fires the bullet
To the st...
Tuesday 12th September 2017 4:45 am
Wednesday 6th March 2013 8:19 pm
A home-made tattoo wrapped up in a scroll
(not of honey and milk, but indian ink)
saw 50 summers, but winters no more.
A cooling board smoothes away pain.
An epithet formerly scrawled upon walls;
a roughly-inked alias on a right wrist
provided the title required to assist in
identification of you.
I will search for your words in your final abode...
Wednesday 28th September 2011 1:28 pm