A few of you know that I am a poet. Here's some of my poetry to tortutre you with.
"She was low
Simple to the Earth that borne her
As the sunken Sun on a hot long night
She made me think of willows in that breeze
The winding beating of whispers in the midst
And clever whines of a thought I once had
Was meaningless against the salt of my mind
Drunken on my madness as I sat beside myself.
Oh, she was low
As the Mississippi among her banks
Entrenched in memories that we all must have
Among meeting someone so simple, so fair
That the gleam in your eye pays no reverence
To the glorious sight within, playing in the dew
Simple by meaning to the world we choose to dwell
And celebrating no mind to the demons we choose.
She was so low
As the embrace of a forgiving God
Upon His misbehaving children who may have forgotten the way
Or simply chose to ignore the callings for home
And follow the stars to a distant vista a little bit away from what we know
And taste, oh taste!, the sheer pleasures of what we wasn’t to enjoy
Beautiful colors that paint the distant sky
And remind us of how low we should strive to be.
She was low
As my sunken heart the day I caught sight of her;
I happily damned myself to see her dwell again
In this simple June day, surrounded by the willingness of the early morning dew
And not knowing that she is the reason for my own very living
As she innocently play with the Sun in their endless game of touch and tease
In the madness of such a simple thing
To dare me to dream a dream a little more."
"There's a music in the way the wind says your name,
The soft lamenting calls of a beauty beyond compare
Imagined by the heart-broken, awe-struck, admirers of your strut
As you parade down the minds of the lost and longing
And draw ample attentions in that smile of yours,
The way you toss your hair, the way you flirt at the boys,
The small of your back as you strike your pose,
The glimmer in your eyes as you counts what's yours.
There's a poetry in the way the Sun draws your allure,
The blatant stares of ravenous men touched by the Lord's Good Work
Made bare and flesh for all to see, but for none to own and conquer;
The terrible reminder of perfection in wait in your flowing curves,
Full lips, sweeping legs, angelic face, perfect stance
That makes the men fall weak and make children wonder about God,
As you smile to your own rhythm, that shakes this world afire
As the men around you dance unwillingly to that glorious grace.
There's a magic in the way the Moon shows your grace,
That translucence that makes men grow weak and fall in love with you,
That drives them to write poems, compose sonnets, commit miracles
Just so that they can see you smile in that perfect moonlight;
And in this time that I know this truth, the magic that is of you,
This perfect lament of happiness and grace, this slow-beating song
That feeds my heart in this perfect Moon that shows your glow,
Let me be happy and lost when the wind says your name."
"It was around this time that poetry fell into vogue again
From a maddening silence it tows from our lips
Over tree tops and heavenly whims, drunkened stumbling
Of these words, temperate thoughts, simple emotions
That makes no sense but speak of infinite wisdom
That somehow we are privied to.
I don’t know, I don’t know where it all came from—
Maybe thinking of you, from afar, from my window space
Made the cold steel words of casual conversation
Reorganize themselves in fanciful dance
And, simply-minded, fed the happiness that we must have felt
You from afar and me from my couch.
So I wrote the first line timidly, of sickening remorse
Of a soul that knows nothing, but who have been shown everything
And felt pure madness flow from his fingers, leaving dark smudges behind them—
Sheer agony, sheer bliss, as I fall into the abyss
In allow the universe to envelop all within me—
Simple thoughts among these lines that binds us yet."
"The Earth have taken an heroic undertaking
To create the like of me and you
She bound our soul with gold and ribbon
And draped our spirit in the finest of linens
So beautiful that the sky itself grew jealous of us
And the stars became bitter of our joy!
For, in our journeys, our times, our loving seconds apart
We shall never be alone
For our hearts once were one
And they will be once again."
"There's a music in the way the wind says your name,
The soft lamenting calls of a beauty beyond compare
Imagined by the heart-broken, awe-struck, admirers of your strut
As you parade down the minds of the lost and longing
And draw ample attentions in that smile of yours,
The way you toss your hair, the way you flirt at the boys,
The small of your back as you strike your pose,
The glimmer in your eyes as you counts what's yours.
There's a poetry in the way the Sun draws your allure,
The blatant stares of ravenous men touched by the Lord's Good Work
Made bare and flesh for all to see, but for none to own and conquer;
The terrible reminder of perfection in wait in your flowing curves,
Full lips, sweeping legs, angelic face, perfect stance
That makes the men fall weak and make children wonder about God,
As you smile to your own rhythm, that shakes this world afire
As the men around you dance unwillingly to that glorious grace.
There's a magic in the way the Moon shows your grace,
That translucence that makes men grow weak and fall in love with you,
That drives them to write poems, compose sonnets, commit miracles
Just so that they can see you smile in that perfect moonlight;
And in this time that I know this truth, the magic that is of you,
This perfect lament of happiness and grace, this slow-beating song
That feeds my heart in this perfect Moon that shows your glow,
Let me be happy and lost when the wind says your name."