My LoveMy hands can never replicate your touch,My Love1 month ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Your warmth as we lay side by side.
Bodies mirroring the others'
Intertwined, moving as one.
My smile can never duplicate your glow,
Gleaming towards me through the darkness.
Eyes dancing, shimmering in the moonlight,
Lips soft as they touch mine.
No breath can feel as soft as yours,
It sits, softly resting on my shoulder.
Mind anchored by the other,
My light, my comfort.
Shall I?Shall I forget the face of a bright sunshine?Shall I?2 weeks ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Whose beauty is comparable to an angel so divine;
Shall I overlook your smiles that are so sweet?
Just a glimpse of you knocks me off my feet.
Shall I pass a day without seeing you?
Or miss a chance to prove that my feelings are true;
Shall I think twice to win your heart?
Living without you will tear me apart.
Shall I not recall the way your hair dances in the summer air?
And how your laughter warms my cold winter;
Your gentle breath swifts right through the autumn's call,
Shall I confess this love or wait until the next fall?
Shall I hold your heart or forever yearn for it?
I long for the day our lips would meet;
Shall I live another day without saying how much I love you?
Or shall I die as a friend, veiling these feelings for you?
To SenpaiHmm, how how can put it?To Senpai3 weeks ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
How can I record the feelings to say this.
The sound of her voice has me sedated,
What a piece of art the lord has created.
The devil grabbed a halo when her story hit the pages.
Sages say she's an angel in the face.
That beautiful beast from the scriptures.
Papparazzi wished they could get a better picture.
Models would sell their souls if they could get a better figure.
I'd pay diamonds and gold for another minute with ya.
Other fools could feel the same,
But I'll guess I'll go ahead and simply say it this way.
I could give her every atrium of my heart, if she could remember my name.
CuriousThis is the poem I wrote in reply to my friend Zack English's poem "The Call"Curious2 weeks ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
She sits by the phone
All on her own
Waiting to hear its noise
And she wonders why she should ever trust boys.
Did she give him the right number? 599-3283?
She could be paranoid but still wonders “is it just me?”
Is he actually gonna call her? Has an hour really past?
But still she sits there, as the time goes by fast.
Curiosity got the best of her as she sits alone.
Still waiting, still staring at the phone.
the flow of musicThe music was starting to flow.the flow of music1 month ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
A beat close to a heart.
The piano was slow.
But it had you from the start.
You follow the sound.
Entranced by beat.
Astonished by what you found.
And swept from your feat.
You swing round and a round.
The smile forming on you lips.
Such a beautiful sound.
That sways your hips.
It beats in your heart.
As the winds blow.
You knew from the start.
You couldn't resist the flow.
Of the piano.