Just Too LateBut here I am, waiting for a miracle that'll never come,Just Too Late4 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
And as I'm forced to face the truth, I know I cannot run,
For it's just too late to make things right again;
No matter how hard I try, I've already reached the end,
But I'll keep holding on to the agony
Because it's all that's left of what used to be,
Along with the anger and the hate--
Because sometimes it's just too late.
The Drunken OnesThe drinks are sold.The Drunken Ones9 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
We are all getting old.
A bunch of drunk losers,
is the story that will be told.
But out of all of us-
they will remember me.
We should stick together
or cut loose.
Why sit around watch TV?
When we can be on TV!
Why yell at you
when you can't even hear me?
The windmill faces the horizon.
At sundown I'll face the lion.
I'm not making much sense.
Either I'm not sober enough
or you're just too dense
I wrote this poem
on a piece of napkin;
about what was happening:
our fall from grace.
The alcohol taste.
Flavour of your tongue.
Sweet silence of guns.
Go ahead and betray.
Or stay with me and decay.
We only fall in love when were drunk,
till rehab takes away all the fun.
Song of Bliss #61Time is not a constantSong of Bliss #6110 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Each day brings more haste
Life goes so quickly
I wonder at the purpose
A third of life sleeping
Too much for my taste
Even up all night
I'll barely scratch the surface
I am not a young man
So quickly aging
I try to hold on
But the tilt grows more extreme
Peaceful night approaches
An end to raging
I hope death is like
Waking up from a long dream
It is not long enough
I'm in no hurry
I would stay with her
Until the void is restored
Yet I waste so much time
On pointless worry
Not being present
Is one thing I can't afford
This is not a moment
And to ever be
Is to be all forever
Some day I will be sand
Washed up by the sea
With no more regrets
And no more ties to sever
Practice Poem #31 (Quatrain)Extracting money from another man’sPractice Poem #31 (Quatrain)14 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Full pocket is the art of business, but
Without resorting to a violent end—
Where subtlety is used to crack the nut.
A Gift - Happy Birthday!Roses are red,A Gift - Happy Birthday!20 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
violets are purple...
Ok, wait, let me start again...
Your roses are reddy,
fives nights spent at Freddy's~
unleash your inner Bender~
Turn your foes into jello-o,
kung-fu pow like Donatello~
Counter attacking every riddle,
never caught within the middle~
Always be true to your self,
understand that love is wealth~
Needed are no introductions,
you are simply the best kind of productions~
MonsterWith fur all in black,Monster21 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Moving on, never going back!
Without any skills,
An animal that only yells!
Without any tools,
No civilization, no rules!
But evolution moved on!
From these animals a new species was born!
Nothing nice, only a gruesome thing!
Thinks it's the one and only king!
From a decent being it became this?
Only thinking of its own bliss!
From a decent being that was quite smart?
It became a monster without a heart!
It calls itself human!
But in fact, we're all monsters!
Holes for EarsI live in fear,Holes for Ears1 day ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
because I was torn ear to ear.
Or rather my ears were torn off,
after being repeatedly told off.
Or maybe I was told, "I'm off."
It's hard to remember and hard to know,
because I can never hear again.
Unless my ears regrow.
But the holes that are left
give better access to my brain.
Hopefully by seeing straight in there,
I can better diagnose the pain.
But instead I think I see just mush,
thoughts and firing and lots of stuff.
But I don't see love, I don't see sane.
I just see stuff you call my brain.
I wish I could still hear,
but I can still see your smile.
And if they tear out my eyes,
you'll still be smiling for a while.
For as long as I can remember your eyes,
I can remember the brightness in them too.
And as long as I can remember your laugh,
I can remember what it's like when I laughed too.
So even if can't hear or see,
can I please keep all the memories?
The memories of a time much sweeter.
When life was fresh, my world much cleaner.
When I could see, before sig
Primordial two hearts entwined to beat the samePrimordial 1 day ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
a love that never had a name
the winners crowned without a game
in happenstance no fault to blame
instinctual as nature calls
helpless, apprehension falls
as destiney destroid those walls
spines tingle while excitement crawls
rewards befit the ones who chase
they celebrate as they embrace
as perspiration beads the face
their pulses pump a fevered pace
two become as one In motion
bodies orchestrate emotion
swimming in orgasmic oceans
rhythmic with this primal notion
entangled as the end draws nigh
she quivers as she starts to cry
they revel in this new found high
the love they made will never die
Positive ReinforcementUsing pain as a way to train--Positive Reinforcement1 day ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Is the damaged trust worth the gain?
Strap on an E-Collar, it's "humane."
Or is it abuse by a different name?
Try problem-solving, make it a game
Training is fun when you use your brain.
Fear is a difficult tool to eschew,
But sometimes your dog's greatest problem
ShallowI indulge in shallownessShallow1 day ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
For I am tired with
the depth and openness
of the great big sea.
Exhausted by trying
to dive to its bottom -
invisible and beyond reach,
if existent at all.
My Favorite Dia FestivoLa Catrina calls you to la fiestaMy Favorite Dia Festivo1 day ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Where los mariachis sing baladas
Get up from tu cama, end your siesta
Dance with them hasta la madrugada
Cross the pan dulce with sugared huesos
Cover la mesa with orange flores
Prep your best traje for los paseos
Recordando our deceased amores
Hang su foto over la ofrenda
Write su nombre on a calavera
Share wond'rous cuentos from su leyenda
Hum to la música sung afuera
Dance en la calle with open puertos
Come celebra el día de los muertos
DoorsI'm running through these endless doors.Doors2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
It's one after the other.
I have to keep going,
And find you.
I'm running, I'm running.
There's another, there's another.
I suddenly stopped running,
Right when I thought...
"What am I looking for?
Why is it you?"
Daily Poem #59 - Braving the Sea of StarsLet us set sail into the vast sea of starsDaily Poem #59 - Braving the Sea of Stars2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
And break free of all these earthbound chains and bars
That are holding us back, and weighing us down,
Keeping us prisoner in this dead ghost town.
Science, fire and steel shall take us to the skies
As we leave behind a world that slowly dies.
In the spirit of adventurers of old
We'll brave dangers to unlock secrets untold!
Should our fortunes turn, and should happen the worst,
Should we face death by cold, heat, hunger or thirst -
We will gladly accept our fate, and endure the pain;
For we do know: It will not have been in vain!
RiversToday is when words form riversRivers2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
And here on this raft, our slivers
Join their sisters and brothers in
The drifting current that we spin
Spitfires, the phrases in quivers
Today is when words form rivers
Phlegethon, sets my soul ablaze
Lethe, shall forget not the ways
Vast shapes and ideas combined
Into a language grown refined
Today is when words form rivers
And our meaning at once shivers
For among the nobility
And peasantry: ability
Through our poetry delivers
Today is when words form rivers
SacrificeOn this highly holy day,Sacrifice2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
A procession comes this way.
Four men in black coats,
singing our oaths.
They escort a virgin maid,
Today she is Satan's bride!
Her hair so black, her skin so pale,
She wears nothing but a veil!
In her hands the holy grail!
Three stairs up to the altar,
no time to falter.
Laying down on the cold stone,
she will die for our sins to atone!
Her blood will wash us unalloyed,
Our whole clan is overjoyed!
Her screams are music,
Creating this mighty magic!
The tablecloth, all dyed in red,
Satan's bride is dead!
Dead in this world, but not in hell!
There he waits, can't you here the bells?
Today Satan is celebrating his wedding!
OUT OF HOUSE AND HOMEYouthOUT OF HOUSE AND HOME2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
U n b u r d e n
Accumulative PersuasionsDepression is fibrous;Accumulative Persuasions2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
clinging to my pores,
accumulating a weight no
human structure can survive...
Still, we lift our heads.
Smoke Streams.Smoke Streams.Smoke Streams.2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
When the oceans of the earth smother onto the crust,
they leave traces of thoughts plus forgotten dreams,
withered into the sea.
When couples lay on the shore, staring up at the clouds,
their blinded eyes of materialistic futures leave pure hearts,
scrambling on the floor yearning for more fabrication than before.
When you see those individuals pressing the keys to the melodic memories,
the songs you play at weddings, funerals or simply a festival,
those blissful tunes come from the most shattered glass windows to the soul.
When you grab the hand of your partner, hold on tightly before you leap,
those who can not pass the rip in the imaginative world are swallowed by the sea,
leaving only but a rupturing pain in your arteries crumpling every segment of your paralysed body.
When the brightness of your lanterns begin to fade they leave a stream of smoke behind,
many young people forget the stream of smoke and embrace the curtains of the dark home they've come to kno
My Oldest FriendAll things it devoursMy Oldest Friend2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
It's passing is it's life
And when it comes to meet you
You will be left in strife
It's mother was quite violent
It's father set her spark
They both died together
But their children were stark
It carries you through the threshold
But do not be deceived
It only leads to your death
While leaving others to grieve
Some say it heals all wounds
Others are not so sure
For when the knife meets it's mark
It loses it grand allure
It used to be my master
But now much has changed
Some will say it's a gift
Others that I'm deranged
I see it as an opportunity
To see life anew
A few of us have escaped it
The rest wait in the queue
By now you may have guessed
Who my friend might just be
He is as old as himself
For it is TIME you see