The Grass is Black/The Air is Pink

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feel me/read me/follow me

If you read this poem…

if you read that poem
you will awaken something new
within you

full moon tonight
the only light in the sky

as you read this poem, try to ignore my lips
on the inside of your wrist…

written: April 16, 2011

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Filed under: desire,desire,desire..., regarding myself, that crazy,little thing called love, Uncategorized

Dilemma

where is the safety in all this?
please, tell me, does security even exist?

I’ve walked the alleys and found treasure
I’ve sold cheap gold and donated counterfeit money
I’ve given love out of confusion…
I’ve nursed my fear for sweet companionship…

when do the stars turn off their light?
please, tell me, does the sun ever get cold?

I’ve joined the marching band with an invisible instrument
I’ve looked in the mirror and saw no one
I’ve spoken but the words were pointless
I’ve cried and cried and my eyes have died…

Can the sadness evaporate like cigarette smoke?
And if so, can I go along with it?

written: November 29, 2010

Filed under: regarding myself, Uncategorized

Someone New

you are like a new star
never seen before
but you reveal
yourself to me…
could this be…
what I’ve been asking for…?

written: April 23, 2011

Filed under: desire,desire,desire..., regarding myself, that crazy,little thing called love, Uncategorized

‘Superfluous Advice’ by Dorothy Parker

Should they whisper false of you
Never trouble to deny;
Should the words they say be true,
Weep and storm and swear they lie.

Filed under: regarding myself, Uncategorized, , , , ,

The Way I Live

This life
embraces me
tightly
like a noose…
in sadness, I am blinded-
life threw acid in my eyes…

This life
embraces me
tightly
like a noose…
in fear, I am buried alive
in melancholy, I drown-
life threw me into an ocean of my own tears…

written: November 23, 2010

Filed under: regarding myself, Uncategorized, , , ,

‘Autopsychography’ by Fernando Pessoa

The poet is an inventor.
He invents so completely
That he succeeds in inventing
That the pain he really feels is pain.

And those who read what he writes
Really feel in the pain they have read,
Not the two which he felt,
But only the one they do not have.

And thus in the wheel ruts
There goes round and round, diverting
Reason,
That clockwork toy train
Which is called heart.

Filed under: regarding myself, Uncategorized, , , ,

short love poem

Leaving you with a part of me
living in your heart
so you’ll never forget me
it’ll be my tears when you cry
and my lips, when you taste…

written: April 15, 2011

Filed under: desire,desire,desire..., regarding myself, that crazy,little thing called love, Uncategorized