One cigarette to my name – a
Last crackling ray of sad brevity, inspired voraciously
Like a Hail Mary for an epilogue of warmth.
Embrasuring the atmosphere with its release;
She's the grace at the tail of a long day.

Dear Father
I’m alone in a very scary place
And I’m not certain how I got here.
I lost sight of the footprints I was following
And wandered off the pathway you laid out for me.

The wind is cold and the sky is dark.
I just heard screeches from the nearby woods
And this path ends in only brambles.
Kneeling on the rocky ground
I beseech the Lord to rescue me.
He either doesn’t hear my cry
Or this is where I need to be
To learn to never take my eyes
Away from the light that guides me.
ljm

All songs are sad, the poems aren’t better.
Maybe I should remake them all?
Re-write, re-concoct, re-live, re-slobbered!
Maybe they should be re-baked in whole?

So that instead of the night there’s the sun!
And in place of the blizzard there’s summer.
And no sadness! Out with the blues!
No more tears! No ill lucks and dramas!

And what about love? We’ll keep it on!
But let’s go and change my loving colors!
Instead of the rain and sleepless nights,
We’d paint white camomiles and flashy covers.

The wind would always be tail-on,
And love would live into old life.
Cinnamon, almond, vanilla aromas…
Am I right? Is that the smell of happy life?

I’ll write such “love story”, where they both
Love each other and were both faithful.
The sun shines brightly, birds sing clearly,
And they both live till their death in full.

I’ll finish writing this loving poem
And put it on the back shelf grandly.
I can be inaccurate, but I don’t like it.
And in my poems I won’t lie fully!

All songs are sad, the poems aren’t better.
I won’t remake them all in no way.
I love and I write my fanciful life!
And I will do it further alway!

The Past is a learning curve
Don't dwell in what was
Time to enjoy
What that is up to you but do it
Regrets are useless
No need to embellish
We have all been there
Sometimes with frierds and loved ones.
Sometimes on your own
Happiness,Joy.The Very Best of Everything Always
Going Forward

I’m the harshest critic,
the truest of nonbelievers,
when words of love are used.
Soapy words will not deliver
so please stop trying to be smooth.

Don’t compare me to a summer’s day!
I know that’s from some Broadway play.

Waste not flattery’s rose
praise not my grace,
at least not to my face,
you’re better off praising my clothes.

Forgo sweetness, promise nothing
then you may be onto something
say it, straight up, I won’t faint
trust me, sir, I am no saint.
.
.
A song for this:
Words of love by the Beatles
.
Maddy’ Music challenge:
“Write a poem based on three words from a song.”
Song: 'Words of love' by the Beatles 1964

There are pieces of you everywhere,                                                      ­                                       
   for as far as the eye can see                                                     
        ­                                                                 ­                                                          I want to erase you, but I don't dare                                                        
                                                                ­                                                        
in case you're still in love with me                                                               ­                     
                                                                ­                                                      
So, now they've become chess pieces                                                           ­             
                                                   ­                                                               
that I move strategically                                                    ­                          
                                                                ­                                            
Praying that my love decreases,                                                       ­                               
                                 ­                                                                 ­                      
so, I can start healing                                                          ­                                      
                                                                ­                                            
Playing a game with my love,                                                            ­                    
                                                                ­                                                
don't know if I'll win or lose                                                             ­             
                                                                ­                                                        
I have been playing this long enough,                                                          ­        
                                                        ­                                                          
this game between me and you

A moment of riverbank fog,
In the earliest morning,
Before the timid sun rises over the horizon,
Aghast from the surging push of a breeze,
Watching the tall grass sway like fingers out car windows.

The musk of Petrichor and Dew
Pervades every olfactory nerve,
Invading taste and thought like an intrusive guest,
Submissively I drop to my knees,
Bowing to the bountiful grace she bestows upon me.

As the waters clear,
And the sweet mandarin orange paints the sky,
I am comforted like a swaddled babe,
Perfect and clean.
Unlimited in my pursuit of peace,
I am burdened only with impatience,
Blessed with the soothing effect of her touch,
Awash in the company of the ancient groves,
Enthralled by the emerald city as her Vedant kin call to me.
From clay to bone, and back again,
Gaia, watch over me, all mother.

In a world of fake
I‘ll still be true
Through my heart ache
And I’m still blue
And love is love
And is never ending
From low to above
And now Im forgetting
The way you felt
In my arms
“Play the cards your dealt”
But when I do I hear alarms

I ache to go back
but I’ve come too far.
What I miss
might undo
who I am.

they said the clown was sorrow-shaped.
so I looped up in greasepaint—
swallowed a sunbeam,
coughed out a smirk,
and called the ache comedy.

somebody whispered
i fear the bruise.
nah,
i catalogue it.
line breaks for scars,
syntax for shame,
run the hurt through a voice modulator
’til even god can’t tell if i’m praying or riffing.

i’m not dodging the wreckage.
i just built a couch in it.
named the crater: “home?”
drank laughter from a cracked thermos
and kept warm in the glow of a rerun i never starred in.

i’ll play the ghost
if the script pays in quiet.
but don’t staple my name to your healing
and call it holy.

the truth?
clowns rot too.

some nights
i wanna peel off the latex,
lose the joke,
shave the wig,
and just exist—
not perform pain
in a dialect
you can quote later.

i am now
ready
to love someone

and
tragically
it can’t be
you

between darkness and memory
split the night
dispossess the parasite
purge the venom from my skull
give me proper burial

Deep water springs,
that life it brings,
I don't fancy the sea,
only the day we met,
Confidence
shatters as it allows
a memory unforgotten,
I love but will haunt me.

Roses are red
Violets are blue

My love is far overdue
For I lack a better muse

Once a pain
Now a love,
Once ignored,
Now unforgotten.
Sun came out,
I was enlightened.
Words flowed through,
my fingertips,
typing into poems.
I could talk through some words,
None would probably judge it.

I met two couples today
caught behind love’s curtain

one eighty-five and eighty-three
other twenty-one and twenty-three

twin flames
one a waning
a dim hospital wing

dual embers
both a growing
a sunlit park

I always said I wanted
the love of age
that testament faltered today

Precocious baby, tempered to a china-blue hue, you
Had not been ripe as a morning glory
Before riots mongered in the plasma of your shapeless head.

Haunting as an omen, you
Had drank from the cord of my cold-blooded artery.
Turned my insides out like a shimmering dime bag
As we fell to the earth.

What if in my waning years
No child, friend or Love I find
close beside to truly know my mind?
This my midnight fear I ponder:
As time marches on
will I be left behind…

You’re dead now

And life has never been the same

If anything its gotten worse

I feel empty..

Dead..

Check check check,

What’s next?
check check check.
don’t worry,
the list keeps coming,
check check check,
easy to do,
for fools do it too,
check check check.

Hang your head on,
that piece on the refrigerator,
before you head back,
check check check.

Don’t break your neck,
working on, lets check,
check check check.

No check?
check check check,
So easy to do,
that fools do it too,
check check check,
break the neck,
check check check,
Now, what comes next?

Peaking through the pavement,
a little burst of yellow.
Trampled and squashed
but still there,
still beautiful.

born in the artic snow
she chromed
her heart
in steel

flames could
not
touch that heart

always a half a step ahead
sure
a few stumbles
but never a fall

and moonlight is just
a heartache in disquise

till one day
leaning out a car window
a scar upon his cheek
and the luck of the draw

was the jack of hearts

and the queen of diamonds
had
never met
anyone
quite like

the jack

of hearts,

black-haired blue-eyed
her beauty inspired
stupid men
to commit foolish acts

and as he smiled
the queen of diamonds
thought she had

the jack of hearts,

blue sky shimmering
in her eyes

jack became
the brightness
of her day

and the jack of hearts
saw a flame
flickering in her eyes
that he had never seen
in any women's eyes
before ...
                
               act. 2

... a strange destiny
was unraveling
and one long poker hand
was over
and the snowflakes came
down like ashes
under the street light

and then
the jack of hearts
walked away

a pale spirit fleeing
a graveyard
into the wall of night

and the queen of diamonds
cried

the sea into sky

with eyes
like twilight
waiting

to eat away the day

turn back the clocks, rewind it
there's something else behind this
not that hard to find it
but hard enough to fight it

i’m still the same words in a new font
same old punchline but more nuanced
the same marathon you’ve been running
under all the layers, an onions still an onion