My Words
I've been dabbling with poetry for a long time now. Trying to rhyhm my thoughts in a 'meaningful' way can be a great struggle, but the occasional easy jem eventually shines through, making it more than worth it to me.
Here are a few of my favorites...
Of This and That and That and This
Of this and that and that and this
We run about react remiss
We think aloud inside within
And bunker down to hide in skin
We close our eyes outside of us
Confuse bemuse refuse the fuss
It cannot be apart of me
These misconstrued realities
How could I below be high
Be day be night be all in I
When all I see is split in two
Divided up a bit askew
But when I close my eyes my mind
And take myself right out of time
I become a better place
A calmer me with less disgrace
My wants my needs become no more
A simpler me a few less scores
To bring this me to everything
Of all I know to you I sing
I wish for all a simpler life
Of good and bad accepted strife
Unite inside within without
And find the need to scream and shout
Of you of me of all we see
These misconstrued realities
Endless Unity
Some choose death and some choose life
The later of those meander in Light
Would you may or would you might
The former you stay forever in strife
To look within while looking out
An endless grin you'll scream you'll shout!
Together you see together you'll be
Together in you the same in me
Release relieve receive believe
The choice is yours I know you'll see
That you and I will always be
Forever and ever endless unity
What is Love?
What is love?
Is it the lump in my throat?
Is it a rock that can float?
Is it a smack in the face?
Or maybe a woman dressed in lace?
Is it a stomach pain?
Is it the falling rain?
Is it a sense that I lack?
Or possibly the itch I can't reach on my back?
Is it something you can teach?
And if I catch it, can it be sucked out by a leach?
Does it taste like sugar?
Or like that of a newly found bugger?
When it comes, does it ever leave?
Or does it stay like the stain on my sleeve?
Is it something to be questioned?
Is it something not to be mentioned?
Is it something I should forget?
Is it like the pain of a newly formed zit?
Is it a disease to be caught?
Or is it something to be sought?
Will any of these questions I've given,
Be answered before I stop livin'?
Or is it better that I go on not knowing?
So that my mind keeps going and going and going?
Curiosity may have killed the cat,
I'm not questioning that.
The answers I may never find,
But the questions will always be on my mind...
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