The space
between ear to ear
seems so unreal
when its filled
with synapses.
miss firings,
here and there.
Leaving the question,
Oh my, what was that?
Category: Uncategorized
Exile
Jumbled up reasons
of figuring things out.
I have frayed about
on an empty page,
leaving black symbols,
which I try to understand.
The presumption of it,
just pisses me off.
So I remain reticence
and all filled with metaphors.
She asked -why are you so quiet? -i do that before I talk. think.
Goodbye is Always Implied
When you came by,
You always wanted something,
Money,
Energy,
A bit of my soul.
I can’t deneign i love you.
That’s a given.
But trust is a whole nother matter.
Yes when you come by
Goodbye is always implied.
How many times have you come by
And then left.
So when i actually left you.
You might wonder what you said
That gave me the strength
to break your grip on my heart.
It was the words.
‘If we make it through this.
I think i’ll marry you.’
And knew that was a lie.
So while you were out to your dealer.
I packed what was left of my stuff,
That you hadn’t pawned to pay him off.
No longer was i going to enable you.
No longer was i going to let you rape my soul.
No, when you say hi,
Goodbye is always implied.
words poem 2
What are these creatures ,
which form upon the paper
in long black swirling paths,
or now sometimes across the computer screen
in pixels and dots.
But what are these things?
They try to convey what we feel inside;
What we want to say
think we’re saying,
and hoping people will understand what we’re saying.
We use hand gestures and expressions
Actions and motions
These syllable tapestries we call words
Each word as simple as father
Brings meanings that are different with each person.
We use words to try to explain an experience
Or A feeling such as love.
however only a picture of this can be expressed.
One hopes when her eyes look at you,
That she understands.
Being strange to one person is a bad word
While to another it’s a compliment.
As I sit out hear I listen to the birds
hear ‘em sing,
the water running over the rocks
and I see words in my head form into pictures
and those pictures are memories.
Smyon-Pa 