Kind hearts
And nicer souls
Always tolerant
Never a tyrant
Gentle guidance
Comforting hugs
Boundless love
Constant worrying
Undaunted support
Always giving
Never asking for anything in return
They smile every time I smile
They cry before tears can even leave my eye
They live to see me make a life for myself
I am, because you are
And what you are is rather rare
My truth against your lies
Forever pitted
As time flies
The dance of life
Or the dangers of love
Would we ignite
When push comes to shove?
All I want
Is a room with a view
A heart with a tune
A dream with a date
A song for my fate
A prayer on my lips
A swing to my hips
Some wind beneath my wings
Hands which can seize
Manners aimed to please
Eyes which can see no lies
And most of all
I want to be
Surrounded by
More books than I can count
And more love than I can contain
Please feel free to add below.
Some times I’d like to take a boat out into the night
Under a star lit sky
I’d take a moment
To take in the moon
A little faded
A little diffused
I feel it’d look like hastily rubbed out chalk on a slate
I’d raise a toast to it
With a contented sigh
As the sea gladly lulls me to sleep on a bed of gentle waves
But instead
I’m lying in bed tonight
Starting at a rickety ceiling fan
In danger of falling off
Almost in competition with the surrounding plaster which keeps peeling off
I have a lumpy mattress and a rock hard pillow
And my own tears in which to wallow
The moon seems too faraway a dream
With not even a skylight in sight
Yet when I close my eyes
I can almost see it shimmer
Beckoning me closer
Every time you come to me
With no intention of staying
You tear away a part of me
Which can never grow back
Every time you talk to me
With no truth in your voice
You cut at me with razor blades
And I ooze out your lies
Every time you look at me
With less than loving eyes
You down the shutters and drown out the light
From every corner of my heart
Every time you leave me again
With promises of an ever after
You suck the joy from all my days
And all the brightness inside of me
So, here
Take this
I’ve compiled a scrapbook for you
And on every page
You’ll find in red
Snippets of my soul
A lyrical melody
Is what I’d like to be
Hear me any which way
Just the soulful music
Or only meaningful words
I’d make you equally happy
Midnight
Comes with a tagline
Dreams be available here
And so do nightmares
Till 3:03 am
Sometimes a barter works in this bazar
Sell your dreams
For some scary, sleepless nights
And sometimes there’s a miracle
Where you’re handed a bucketful of dreams
So believe me and don’t
Open your eyes tonight
Come again tomorrow
To get your money’s worth
If you have to sit down and make yourself write, then alas, you are betraying the craft itself
For you see poetry isn’t made, created or done
It fills you up with frenzy
Until it oozes out in words
It catches you unawares
When you least expect it
And then promptly proceeds to overwhelm and overtake you
It consumes all your thoughts
With a feverish delight
It captures every breath you take
Like you were its birthright
It’s an agonising mistress
Yet a rewarding lover
It’s an amazing way to destress
Or to start all over
So no, I don’t believe you can make poetry
Rather
You become it
I expect you to love the parts of me I never liked
To care for those dreams of mine
Which I neglected
To nurture my thoughts
Which I hid behind a curtain of shame
To invade my personal space
In order to become my entire comfort zone
Don’t you see
I expect you to love me
More than I could hope to be
And then, maybe,
With a happy sigh
We could call it destiny
If the world runs out of souls to offer
At the altar of heart wrenching words
Would you share a night with me
Of stale songs under a starless sky?
Maybe that’s where, banished by the bards,
Poetry would come to die
