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Post a poem

Here are a few written by myself:

From Love To Ashes

Before I light your world on fire,
my eyes observe you;
slender body –
gold hair –
pale skin –
our love ignites.
and although you're a dime-a-dozen,
the hot touch feels just right.
A burning desire runs through your eyes
I feel it; as [we] stare [in] fiery delight.
my fingers slidedownyourbody;
and a sudden end is depicted;
you're just one of many.
I know; I am
Addicted –


Summer buries
the cold of absense, but
seeds ignorant hope.
Like an observed sea
of Fruit flies,
he only sees ahead
but is caught in the storm
And a few more:


Contemplating life is an endeavorous strife
with the decision held at the point of a knife.
And after the throes, nobody knows;
we can only hope for a decent repose.
For far too long I've yet to belong,
and felt my life is a terrible wrong.
But alas, O' blessed please let me rest,
for an absence of life takes this soul depressed.


No other fairness shall bestraught thy mind;
An ear-kissing amazement doth behold.
Thou graced with Summer's love O' how so kind?
Beg the balmy lethe and take thy heart cold.
Wonder of mind shall seep through web and pin,
A lust to fall beneath a fathom's deep.
Scarlet red drips on to this wall of sin
Death howls lust to seal such e'er-consumed sleep.
Thy see'th epic teem and betide thou view
'Tis bread I seek of thou eternal maim
Long live this epitaph of cold and blue
Close thou eyes and never to speak thy name.
In dark I stand straying thee life of East
Flesh and bone, with death in June I shall feast.
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,

I have forgotten, and what arms have lain

Under my head till morning; but the rain

Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh

Upon the glass and listen for reply,

And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain

For unremembered lads that not again

Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.

Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,

Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,

Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:

I cannot say what loves have come and gone,

I only know that summer sang in me

A little while, that in me sings no more.

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay
A simple line a fellow man
A collection of thoughts that I cannot comprehend
I fear for those who grow up to think
This world I cannot change
Life Of A Puddle

I'd like a couple more days
to contemplate my place in society.
The others have already up and left
preferring a lighter gravity,
but I've always felt a bit soft
floating around like a fluffy inanity.

I feel I'm serving a much better purpose
here in this dip.
I'm a solid mass providing refreshments;
a sea for all strange manner of ships.
I can reflect on the meaning of life,
a harbour for a flotilla of sinking chips.
And I've come to treasure the delights
of holding light in my grip.

There's nothing quite like leaking into a boot
and soaking up the root of a man.
I'd like more time to study such phenomena
but I've only a short life span.
I wish I knew how I fit
into life's intricate game plan.

As my dreams are splashed
up a pair of stockinged legs,
think of me as I'm rung out in the kitchen sink,
washed away with the coffee dregs.