Just to show off a few things that I've written.
Old-Fashioned
These words are not called lyrics
so they're not allowed to rhyme.
My poetry just a parody
of a best forgotten time.
Outdated, overrated,
no emotion in my verse.
Overstated, complicated,
no it couldn't get much worse.
But at least I face the challenge
of turning chaos into form,
finding rhythm in cacophony,
learning to control the storm.
Be it arrogance or pride
that makes me go that extra mile.
Some may see it as old-fashioned,
but I look at it as style.
OBITUARY
Prince Charming is dead, the headline read.
The perfect man no longer exists.
Bereft of a cent, his fortune spent,
his heart and soul smashed to bits.
He was murdered by those he loved the most
(or so his suicide note said).
But although he is gone, his legend lives on
(to the misfortune of all other men)
ADDICTION
Little by little,
a piece at a time.
Chipping away at what used to be mine.
Insidious impulse
masquerading as need.
Lie, cheat, and steal its only purpose, to feed.
Laying waste to my health,
and twisting my mind.
While, all the while, it renders me blind.
Calming my demons,
or so it makes me believe.
Yet giving me all the more reason to grieve.
SONNET 2
Ev'ry glance into her eyes, I'm spellbound.
Her words, like fire, melt my heart of stone.
Her voice, it is by far the sweetest sound.
One touch and into ecstasy I'm thrown.
Just one moment with her, infinite bliss.
Her place in my heart, time will not erase.
She dwells in my dreams, I live for her kiss.
Eternity spent wrapped in her embrace.
When she is near me, my mind starts to spin.
The taste of her lips intoxicates me.
Ev'ry caress of her smooth tender skin
satisfies my desires completely.
Here intertwined in the moment, at last,
there's just the present, no future, no past.
First Encounter
Soft lips
and gentle fingertips.
Slowly, inhibition slips
away.
With nothing left to say.
Nothing standing in the way.
We touch.
At first, it seems too much.
Never before have I felt such
a thrill.
As if time is standing still,
not letting another moment pass until
the desire we share is, at last, unrestrained
in a primal exhibition of passion unchained.
Bodies entwined, a frenzied display.
Everything else just melts away.
And the one good free verse piece that I've done.
In The Words Of A Page
To whom it may concern
As you read this I sit here...waiting.
Waiting to be accepted or rejected,
remembered or thoughtlessly cast away,
cherished or destroyed.
I can change if I need to,
but I have no ability to make those changes.
That power rests entirely in the hands of another.
My only task is to be.
All I ask is that you read what I have to say
and, at least, consider it
before you go on your way.
Sincerely
Yours Truly
