the rawest form of the soul…
“I Am a Poet”
I am a poet, an artist of poesy, whose product is poetry, which is the rawest form of the soul. I bleed ink, blue like the ocean in my thoughts, thick like the weight in my chest, bold as the words in my head.
“A Lulluby for Restless Shadows”
There’s music living in your walls. Lean in, and you can hear. Let the minstrels inside your head calm your fears And in the morning when you wake, Write me a novel, dear Of the music living in your walls That’s still ringing in your ear
“she said just one step”
She said just one step, one breath at a time But she wanted to fall, and she wanted to fly. Patience is a virtue she knows all too well But when you’re around, she’s under your spell: Your eyes like dying stars, Your skin like warmth in winter, Your smile reassuring there is no one to hurt her. Thoughts of you stick like honey to hands And when they’re gone, she wants you back again. How lucky she is to feel hurt to wait To hope for next-times and count down the days Til your voice may hang in the air once more But one more step towards you Is one more step to fall.
“Poetry is Dead”
Poetry is dead— There is nothing left to improve. Whether it rhymes like a fine-tuned song or doesn’t Is now up to thee There are no new schemes No Dream that’s never been Dreamed But with death comes legacy— And hers shall last an eternity
“Tethered”
Put my anxious mind to rest My home is in my head My heart is our cadaver When done, sew it back with thread Not too thick, just strong enough To hold it all together And when you leave, Please cut the string Else to you, I will be tethered.
“The Seed of Hate”
When the seed of hate is cultivated, it grows into the ugliest tree in the forest. It grows steadily and large, but if you knock on the wood, it is hollow and rotted on the inside. The vines and branches that surround it make the trunk of the tree difficult to get to, and they choke out and kill all life it touches. However once it is reached, it is easy to push the whole tree down.