In this reflective light I couldn’t see your enigma
In this reflective light I couldn’t see your
dark wild
And the bricks stack up
In this reflective light I couldn’t see your
shades of gloom
In this reflective light I couldn’t see your
leaves twist in your tiring wind
And the bricks stack up higher
In this reflective light I couldn’t see your
blinding aggravation
In this reflective light I couldn’t see your
scorching tragedy
And the bricks surround me
He doesn’t know how great I am
He doesn’t know how special I am
He’s known me since the second grade
He doesn’t know I’m going to be famous
He doesn’t know that how much I love my Mom
He doesn’t know how I see the world
He doesn’t know my soft pain
He doesn’t know how I love
He doesn’t know I am gold yet
He doesn’t know I have the eyes of a photographer
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Photo by S.B Eldredge
I could feel you tiptoe around the bitter conversation.
I breathe in your narcissism.
I juggle your perfectionism and wind of chaos.
I could feel you dig your nails into my flesh.
I am starving for your disappearance.
I balance your chameleon charm and mirrors.
I could feel you drag your feet toward the open door.
I am constantly tasting your immaturity.
I adjust to your outbursts and drama.
I could feel you slipping through my fingertips.
I swallow the pill easily knowing you are no longer here.
Should I care enough
to acknowledge your existence
Do I care enough
to reply back to your nonsense
Should I care enough
to slap that grin off your devious face
Do I care enough
to raise my palm toward an empty man
Should I care enough
to not leave you penniless
Do I care enough
to take you to court
Should I care enough
to walk away from you
Do I care enough
about myself to make a decision
Should I care enough
about myself to leave you
*Marie had asked me to use this title for a poem.
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Please check out my books!
Holly Rene Hunter is the “House of Heart” blog. When I do stop by and read her blog I am quite impressed. Holly does a great job creating beautiful imagery. She writes with elegance and it’s almost as if I’m reading a famous poet from the 1970’s. I am always impressed when I read her blog. I enjoy the choices of word and style. Some may not know this but she also has a book. I encourage for others to take the time to read it.
Please check out her blog if you have not.
I take the time to do this because it is very time consuming for a blogger to answer questions for an award that is offered to them. This is my way of appreciating them without doing a bunch of work.
Rambunctious vile
Distasteful and loathsome
Repellant personality
Excruciating voice
Webs of rancid exteriors
A horrid smell of selfishness
Obnoxious point of view
Infamous small mind
Vindictiveness renders
Full filling the lonely
Unable to stand
Crawling like a two month baby
Expecting society to
play an orchestra for a
Prozac Nation
I don’t measure myself by the dollar earned
I don’t measure myself by possessions
I don’t measure myself by the scars
I don’t measure myself by what I write
I don’t measure myself by the quantity of friends
I don’t measure myself by my beliefs
I don’t measure myself by who I know
I don’t measure myself by my fears
I don’t measure myself by my philosophies
I don’t measure myself by my tears
I just don’t measure myself
I am who I am
Injecting balladry
like it’s a antiseptic
Using your tiny
carry on thesaurus
to captivate the innocent
Swallowing cups of caffeine
to fill a concave
wretched black heart
Drunken saliva dripping
down your male oversized chin
Sunken and carved out
slurping the Devil’s wine
Casting judgement
from an empty phantom
A mindless hippocrate
Not realizing you are
an uneducated stalker
I saw vibrating rainbows draped over a slippery moon. I saw glitter on 20 x 20 frames. I could hear the grand piano playing in the deserted mountains. I saw a glimpse of red in the clouds of rage. I saw rivers of champagne. I witnessed sorrow hiding deep into the caves. I saw the sun bellow. I saw bouquets of silence seek Cupid’s harp. I fell into the well creeping behind the parade of jesters. I saw the edges of souls bleed tears of joy. I saw emptiness screech. I felt the warmth of diamond shaped hearts. I found a bottle of spilled ink and the words were never ending. I heard trumpets around the bend. I saw blank pages but words rattled and spoke like gospel. I discovered the path of humanity. I caressed the gentleness of others. I climbed into the vortex of raw emotions. I felt the infinite words in ink overflow within myself.
Condescending aficionado
speaks from a barbaric abyss
Staking claims and forecasts
reeking of gin and vermouth
He paws
He claws
Relentless and crude
Staring at her fishnet stalkings
waiting for her lipstick stains
delicious Coca Cola bottle curves
Inhaling her wicked scent
He probes
He pushes
Distasteful and off putting
Sucking in helium and lithium
personality rising higher than balloons
Viewing others as outcasts
engaging as a insidious vulture
He commands
He yells
Unforgiving and selfish
Demanding perverse declarations
Instilling superficial values
She crawls away from the blood hound
gazing at the sign of bittersweet crossroads
She kicks
She cries
Embracing the freedom
Deteriorating eyesight
Cockeyed perception
Agitations foaming at the mouth
Removing the garbage
Calming the whispers
Torturing the roars
Sighing to the bee sting
Bleeding from the dry lips
Masking undertones
Streaming suspicions
Cutting the grapevines
Screaming murmurs
Bumbling suggestions leach
Rumors spread like a cold
Unsubstantiated truths
Roaming the uneven concrete
like a slobbering bloodhound
A vagabond meandering
through a decorated parade
Mischievous and unorthodox
Offensive and crude
Admittance of displacement
A lurking deadly reptile
Preaching to be resentful
Disfigure emotionally of others
A rancid phlegm among millions
The sauntering antichrist
Storm of Ink 