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I can't help but be happy
gazing upon your sweet face.
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Blue clings to a vaulted sky,
cotton candy clouds blush pale pink
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A chilly wind rattles dry leaves tumbling skyward from barren trees.
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Life's pinnacle moments are birth and death,
for awareness allows for an end.
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Why can’t you promise me we'll try,
try to help me understand, why?
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Today I leapt out of bed, humming a song in my head.
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Love's magic is suddenly over
and a deluge of tears begin.
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Lured by your heart, I discovered your soul,
its eternal spark shining from within,
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Clad in a skimpy silver slip,
she’s a beacon lost to the night.
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Day dreaming in a crowded café,
sipping on a cold coffee.
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Lured by a kiss,
approaching bless.
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Garbed in her skimpiest skirt,
she solicits funds for sex.
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You explore raw emotions and passions
with your enviable imagination.
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Nature poses for a self-portrait,
exercising Her artistic skills.
by Emile
24 lines, 7 comments,
on Nov 1 4:27 PM
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The sunrise summons strands of hope,
that spring eternal like birth of dawn.
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Chipping away at reality, you expose its delicate web.
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Time applauds endless actors as they strut to center stage.
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During the intimacy of sex
feelings are freed and allowed to roam
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The wonder of the world lies within the
splendor of a child's imagination.
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As passion's flame burns into nothing
its demise gives rise to empty smoke.
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You claim you know what's in my heart, without taking the time to look.
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Men goggle as she approaches, admiring her beautiful form.
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Life seems non-responsive to your needs, where is the magic that inspired youth?
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Reality is a hurting place,
that dominates your existence.
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Life comes in a poor second in its short race against death.
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As love's candle burns into vapor its demise is met with sobs and cries.
by Emile
23 lines, 6 comments,
on Oct 27 9:07 AM
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You look back at innocense
with a smile of remembrance,
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Life is a poorly penned poem,
that’s punctuated by spirituality.
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How could love be so easily dismissed,
letting all of your dreams get clouded by fear?
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The innocence we’re all born with is
stored in the memory of children.
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Hate enters hearts like a winter blizzard,
obscuring the truth with deception and lies.
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Lust lends its enthusiasm to the heart
and you override caution for passion.
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Hope’s a placebo and yet it seems to help, numbing the pain that never goes away.
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