Comments Posted By t44

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affection

the ball slams
heartthrob
richoet
of soul and mind
time stops in that moment
as it always does
when i see you
but this time it speeds up
afterwards
a sense of affection drops away
into the timeless abyss
waiting watching hoping for
one more kiss

» Posted By t44 On 10.23.2013 @ 1:41 pm

overt

The yellow flowers
in their overt comeuppance
of the spring time throngs
fell fearlessly to the ground
after three days in bloom
then a new bud
a new sprout
stands against the tide
fearless in his opportunity
to sprout, bloom, and flourish
before falling softly to their rest

» Posted By t44 On 03.15.2013 @ 2:48 pm

The yellow flowers
in their overt comeuppance
of the spring time throngs
fell fearlessly to the ground
after three days is bloom
then a new bud
a new sprout
stands against the tide
fearless in his opportunity
to sprout, bloom, and flourish
before falling softly to their rest

» Posted By t44 On 03.15.2013 @ 2:47 pm

blasted

I blasted away at the heart
of the one who used to say
yes
all the time.
shafted she was
once in the bed
now on the street
swearing, yelling, hurling insults
filled with profane and
harsh sounds
like a gunshot in the
wound of another being
I have found the gun blast brings
release.

» Posted By t44 On 03.14.2013 @ 12:40 pm

flames

Busyness is a fire.
life burns
slowly,
and what is found in tune within
is seemless work.
I don’t know what it is
to rest;
i only know fire.
i only know work.
and the flames burn
my flesh to cinders
and my soul to ash.

» Posted By t44 On 03.05.2013 @ 3:27 pm

knock

Knock down the door!
All falls in centers of walls
Shallow and little is the stability seen
And Boom to you another
Boom
What in this dim lit hallway could awaken me
From castles
of boom
boom boom
What
but a knock

» Posted By t44 On 02.27.2013 @ 9:39 pm

baby

baby girl
don’t cry
everything’s fine
its all okay
everywhere
everything
in this huge world
what a lie
what bulls**t
what enigmatic fallacy
we’re taught
as children
in life
by our raisers
and suitors
and others

» Posted By t44 On 01.29.2013 @ 1:09 pm

visit

Visitations are held up
by the soft, lined hands
of those who love
without restraint
without condition
who can simultaneously
see all fault and problem
and love anyways
presence is what we speak of
presence is what we notice
sometimes people attend an event
but really never visit

» Posted By t44 On 01.21.2013 @ 1:40 pm

promise

Promises are lighted by the soul
behind the words that flow from the mouth.
and each promise give to man
from man
or nature
or God is
a breath of fresh air
in which we see our true selves:
selves made for trust more than distrust
for hope more than anxiety
and for love more than fear

» Posted By t44 On 01.08.2013 @ 7:05 pm

must

I mus walk forward
and step in line
and do my chores
make it to work on time
I musn’t fall
or fail myself
I have to cook
and fix that shelf
and it all screams a kind of must
but its not true–that you can trust

» Posted By t44 On 01.07.2013 @ 5:36 pm

amount

the amount of sleep i need right now
seems incessantly too much to borrow from the day.
his time off is a paid affair
which settles us all into our beds at night
and allows us to doze and daze ourselves into restful dreams.
i know of little comfort of this amount of pay,
except that which leads us to our own dreams–
reaching, grasping, and fighting.
until the amount of sleep is worth nothing

» Posted By t44 On 01.03.2013 @ 12:54 am

both

Both the beauty and wretched
speak of the same divine.
each fellow his all
knows not what it is that’s mine.
and all the steps and all the breaths
lead one down a line,
but all start in a Spirit
that is one of Thine.
each and every and all and both
walk the world and always doth
moving towards the great divide.

» Posted By t44 On 12.04.2012 @ 8:38 am

object

Folly’s object is to objectify that which could never
be.
Each object falls off of me leaving me
naked,
exposed,
forever myself.
In these objects we place
ourselves,
riddled with fear,
and then we wonder,
“When the dust of our objects is blown away,
will anything
remain?”

» Posted By t44 On 12.02.2012 @ 11:33 pm

despite

Despite the differences in each wildflower
I have seen each change and ever-tower
For the walk of the face of the pristine cliff
covers the flowers as the winds and rains shift

» Posted By t44 On 09.18.2012 @ 11:19 am

whether

Whether or not I weather or not
the storm comes from a million miles
to crash on the instant that strikes forth
in the mesh of framework
with which life moves forward
and sees itself in the light of the sun
for the invisible worm
will fly and come whether or not
we weather the storm.

» Posted By t44 On 09.05.2012 @ 1:33 pm

miracle

I once saw a miracle:
the sunshine stepped
over the clouds
and reached out a friendly hand
in the bitter of winter
in the harsh winds blowing.
he walked forward to kiss my face,
and then I followed his feet
in the shadows of the day–
just living shadow walking forward
into overpowering light
and then the cold fell away
and I stood there in the light of day

» Posted By t44 On 09.04.2012 @ 10:56 am

magazines

Look at them–
the magazines.
they are staring at us:
those eyes–
those lips —
those faces framed and plastered on to the walls and ceilings
of my mind.
each take and each look
sings.
it sings of broken hearts and shallow lives;
it sings of loves lost
and lusts that are loved;
and each turn of the page
sounds like nails on a chalkboard
but has somehow turned to music
in my ears.

» Posted By t44 On 08.29.2012 @ 1:10 am

side

Side by side we stood a-bold
Not knowing what next seconds hold
We looked at each other and took a gasp
Of air as are fingers came unclasped.
We dropped 5 stories towards the sea
To understand the waters deep
And when we rose I cannot say
How full and new and alive I stayed.

» Posted By t44 On 08.23.2012 @ 4:15 pm

puncture

My finger was punctured
by the nail–
not the kind that grows on it,
but the metal kind.
the kind made of iron and
pointed in a direction that usually means
that it is going into a piece of wood.
this time however,
it is in my finger.
i look at it;
it wobbles back and forth
i look up and
give a big yell

» Posted By t44 On 08.07.2012 @ 10:53 am

dare

I dare to say that this is not it.
It is not meant to be this way.
there is so much more to life–
if you will only stop to breathe it in,
you suffocate yourself with insecurities
and held pains
when in reality we are meant to be free.
a new life awaits
one colored like roses and daisies
in the new spring
you just must stop and look
and accept he who brings.

» Posted By t44 On 08.05.2012 @ 3:56 pm

methods

there are many methods to writing poetry but all fall into one– into breathing. it is just watching the life around you suck air and spit out these beautiful moments–moments made clean or dirty but reflecting a light so large they cant be ignored. each and every one is a second where the mirrors reflect that fateful moment when a match is lit and pressed to the wick of the candle that lights the mind and soul so all this poetry may simply flow.

» Posted By t44 On 08.01.2012 @ 12:55 am

losses

I’ve lost things sometimes,
and they’ve hurt.
and I don’t know what to do
but look for them,
then i will have them back
except for the fact
that what i’ve lost can never be restored
for it is not the same thing it was before.

» Posted By t44 On 07.31.2012 @ 12:18 am

suggestion

I suggest that you keep your suggestions to yourself. All you do is ramble on with incessant syllables spewing from the mouth like a trash heap. heaps and heaps of words pour out like tar on a broken road. You think it fixes things but the problems are so much deeper and it just smells. each word runs rampant as it rolls off your tongue and a suggestion is for building– not making undone.

» Posted By t44 On 07.11.2012 @ 8:59 am

harness

The bit and harness keeps the horse in line keeps him from running free not because he will be lost or because he will not know where to go but because he will know he will be so sure and so infallibly sure yet so completely wrong that he will run far and wide until he becomes so lost he won’t know how to get back again

» Posted By t44 On 07.02.2012 @ 11:51 pm

chills

I get the chills
when nails meet
an inconvenient chalkboard.
each second those claws
scratch the surface
i can feel the hairs–
one by one–
stand up on the back of my neck.
its as if a freezer is opened,
and im hearing the sirens
scream from the cliff side.
and then one by one
the chills
give each hair
a frail stand

» Posted By t44 On 07.01.2012 @ 6:59 am

distributor

saying
one
word
at
a
time
is
a
strong
distributor
of
ideas
and
less
confusion.
we
see
each
word
individually,
powerfully,
enigmatically.
and
then
we
see
how
they
paint
together.

» Posted By t44 On 06.27.2012 @ 4:16 am

soups

There are as many different
kinds of soup
as there are people:
each drop suited
to a particular taste bud
and a sense
of smell
that blesses each
as it passes through his nostrils.
each scent is a pleasure,
each sip–a joy.
until we learn this distinct fact
we will never be ready
for solid food.

» Posted By t44 On 06.25.2012 @ 11:50 pm

There are as many different
kinds of soup
as there are people:
each drop suited
to a particular taste bud
and a sense
of smell
that blesses each
as it passes through his nostrils.
each scent is a pleasure,
each sip–a joy.
until we learn this distinct fact
we will never be ready for solid food.

» Posted By t44 On 06.25.2012 @ 11:45 pm

persons

Persons are beings that speak
without words.
each sentence flows
from the people and the persons–
from tongues that have tasted sweet candy, sour lemon
and bitter despair;
eyes that have seen rapturously beautiful sunsets
painted by the hand of a magnificent detailer;
and ears that have heard melodies
so sweet
they couldn’t help but dance
to each
eb and flow in the music.
It is from these persons
that the sentences flow like the rock of a softly waving sea.

» Posted By t44 On 06.21.2012 @ 7:14 am

keen

I think each second is keen on being exactly where it is.
Moments don’t just bump into each other
exclaiming angrily
or falling over in astonishment.
no, they walk in line
one after the other
until a line is made–
an array of army men all marching forth:
in line,
in step,
in union with one another–
keen on being in that exact spot–
that exact template of time laid out by a great architect
who is keen on time.
He is so keen, in fact,
that he steps over it.

» Posted By t44 On 06.19.2012 @ 12:55 am

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