Abstract Poems (471)

Remember December
Nights bite off from days
Minute by minute
Trees stretch naked branches into grey sky
Begging for sunshine
Grey streets, grey air soaked with rain
It gets quiet when snow falls
The parachutes of show flakes
Not in a hurry to touch the ground
Whirl and weave the white cover
That buries the past and smooths edges
The amber of candlelight warms the dark
Inertia of living lets us pass
Over the hump of solstice
Soon the days will be getting longer

In the meantime, I got lost in this
maze of mist, fog, and frogs
I can't imagine myself, not knowing
the features, specs, nor the support
I guess, not worthy, not being storage
Without my memory intact? Therefore!

My eyes once the color of
The sea on a friendly day
Laughs as we float away
Washed in wet alabastrine foam
Soaked us to our knees
I taste the flavor of Khewra
All those many years ago
Never far from these shore

My eyes change like the sea
Now turning a stormy green
Shouts heard by all hands
A twisting and turning tide
Lifting us higher and high
Or lowering us in its depths
Across jagged zig zagged lines
Drifting precariously out to sea

My eyes fall back inside my head
Black spirit awoken from a dream
Drifting into the starry nights
Cloaked in a thousand shadows
Hiding from all the fear
Craving terpsichorean pleasure
Dancing with my demons
Across the deck of passing time

My eyes now soft and maroon
Soaking long in deepest hues
Sighs at the midnight crossing
Deep in its own purple haze
Casting off all my worries
The faces and hands of time
Fleeting pleasure almost gone
Only then washes up on shore

I wanted to believe
time does the healing
and that pain would hurt no more
but...it's been over a thousand days
a million minutes
and still
my heart is as broken as the prism
scattered amongst the pages
of my unwritten litany
no
I'm not looking forward
to seeing you, even in my dreams
but neither would I desire your
uninvited visit in my mind
I just want time to heal the wound
so I can move on..

is that too much to ask?

A sister once told me
If the male sperm sits too long in the testicles
It could cause prostate cancer and it's important
For men to have multiple ejaculations
Or even m**turbate often to release the sperm

Well, this brother told me that he agreed and he chokes his chicken
Or visits Mrs. Palmer and her five children often...
As much as possible!
And he admits that he doesn't have prostate cancer

However, he contracted arthritis
In the elbow, forearm, fingers, and wrist!
Now, ain't that about a b*tch?

if this is the last thing
I ever write, it is because of you
how could you throw love away
you were h*rny? you are mindless. soulless. worthless. and now a murderer.

He stares
With brush in hand he paints from mind
A picture come to light

Paint here Paint there
He stops and stirs
To view his artwork
Creative his he

With his magic touch
A painting a picture a
Oil work for all to see
He's a art collector a painter

A watcher
He Paints just for him
His joy his hobby
He the artist the pictures just for him

Something besides looks
Irresistible style maybe -
The grace of self-awareness
The frames of eyelashes
Around drowning eyes
The delicate
Fragrance of fluffy hair..
Ambiguity of unspoken words
Brings music
To the quiet of the room
Sends shivers through space
Flashes back
Forgotten memories
Of how it first happened before
And pulls you
Into the spiderweb of affection
To get lost and not care
About ever getting out

Hold on there
Do not let the dark wave
Overpower you
Give in without giving up
Take a ride with it
Let it carry you
Away from the sea of troubles
Under the rain of streaming light
Shout out your pain
Dig it deep into the ground
And the flower will grow
Splash it on canvas
And mix with colors
Pour it on paper
It may turn into a poem

I got stung
By the bug of self expression
Woke up
In the middle of the night
Thirsty for words
The broth of sparkling booze
Was gushing
Out of the wound
I tasted it and got drunk
Kept spiraling
Instead of walking a straight line
Lost my words in the noise
Realized that I had to
Take things silli-ously
And went grazing
In the pastures of pleasure