- 8 years ago
- Wedding: March 2010
Here are some of the poems I am thinking of putting in the book. There will probably be more. I just know these are my favorites. I’ll add more to this post later so check back…I’m just a little tired right now so I’ll post more tomorrow.
My Greatest Praise
stark doctor white, empty pages
deep night black, bottled within
emotions bubbling over from the core
and eruption intense with seductive desire
insatiable confrontation dwells along lines,
boundaries inside my mind, through the soul.
It was engrained, carved throughout in stone
tablets revealing much, exposing everything
verbal communication stressed, though hungry.
starving for expression, written with the pen
exposing the deepest secrets, betraying the smirking criminal.
My praise lies within every crevice dwelling contained within walls
my passions devout to filling empty, craving pages
continuous thoughts overflow, spilling their contents
Months, years of trances encapsulating the mind.
I’m not a slave, in a way a servant, I am master
owner of my intellect, my magic wand of understanding,
smearing thy intense feelings in beautiful ink
Flowing the bottled up, pent rivers dwelling inside my restless soul
crazy, isn’t it?
a story wedged
in between crisp pages
torn, thoughtless, tattered
a little psycho–
the tingling sensation.
you being forgetful
has large consequences
and yet I’m here.
fingers that loved
F%[email protected] me until death do us part ( I hope you can’t see the boxes below like I can…and sorry about the cursing and a little vulgarity)
The song your heart sings, from the depths of its extremities
lends itself deeply to the chorus of the stride of the shadow
-the one that creeps along the stairway to the cellar-
So intense that its so(u)le existence shudders away
the ghosts that creep up in the night to overcome
-triumphing above locked away vaults of scary secrets-
your greatest fears enveloped in crystalline powder
or resting in the bottom of an empty Jack Daniels.
-your heartache lying in the bottle of epicac hiding in your bottom drawer-
you send hurt to heaven in a white cloud of smoke
fuck all your secrets into used up condoms and dollar bills
fall asleep to the lull of white noise on your stereo
-you’re slowling dying, letting those secrets overcome-
But each ensuing day proves that the answers come contained in a capsule
and life consists of the mantra:
-fuck me until death do us part-