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Colm Nov 2017
Just know
It’s OK
If your heart’s a thousand colors
Because my eyes have a thousand of their own
Eh...
Colm Nov 2017
The mind seeks to be
To express its worth
In metaphor and homily

And yet no cloudy day remains alive
Within your mind

As memories grey and overcast
Like a visionary dream once passed

You are awake
And yet your eyes
Are only aware of this present take
On life lived alive

No voice is meant to learn such things
Or to recognize these passing clouds
Which have long since passed you by

No cloud is ever exactly as remembered within your mind
What truth do you find in this? (:
Colm Nov 2017
The great woods are
But a memory to me
Of a time when my words clung to the branches of trees
Before the fall
Great indeed for their inherent value
For their intrinsic worth
Were such words and such times to me
I need to walk that path again.
Colm Nov 2017
Blank
Is the mind within the pages of these
The books of forever
The eternal novels
Which line the wall of consciousness
But never open to eyes awake*

I could add more but you wouldn't believe me
Sleeping giant
A yarn about how a human both can and cannot in thought.
Colm Nov 2017
Herb
Root
Stem and tree
More beautiful is the turn of your hair
The bend of your neck
Than a winding lane
You are more than these
Very well. Well indeed.
Colm Oct 2017
How little do I think of you?
So little that I will delete this soon,
Just to erase all living memory of you.
You deserve no such words more than two.
Forgotten now,
Forgotten are you.
Yup....
Colm Oct 2017
Two great rivers
In different valleys
Wishing we could run together
(:
The Silent Stalker was part man
The Silent Stalker had eight hands
But only two were human hands
The others, no one could understand
The Silent Stalker had no face
The Silent Stalker stood in place
Yet moved at the speed of light
And didn't make a peep a night
The Silent Stalker stood and stared
The Silent Stalker had no hair
Just a tux, new and clean
Symmetrical in Geometry
The Silent Stalker has no eyes
And this answer will be a surprise
So if you ask,  how does he see
He sees the fear of you and me
Made this for a poetry slam
Colm Sep 2017
Every human has a world locked inside of them
And the eyes see the snow globe
When it shakes, and when it falls
And when the internal wind swirls and blows
The idea that someone out there, can see you
Colm Sep 2017
So confident when signing up for it.
So comfortable once in.
So awkward when outside the door.
Am I the me who wants to be in?
On the fly
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