A Collection of Short Poems

[Stolen Wishes]

I stole my wishes from the stars;
It made the dark sky rain.
Now each day it still storms;
I brought the night so much pain.
So I shout to the clouds,
But I cannot make them seal,
And I cannot scoop up the stars
To let the sky try to heal.

[Out of Body]

Sometimes when she drives, she closes her eyes.
Her spirit smiles as she feels empty space flying by.
She opens her eyes; she starts to cry,
Because though her body was scared
Her mind did not care
If she died.

[Some Feeling Felt]

I’m miserable—It’s wonderful.
Twitching, twisted, I’m miserably neurotic,
Yet I’m singing my folly, wonderfully melodic.
Laughing in my brain, I’m the happiest I’ve been,
Though I’m sinking into blackness, the state I’m in.
I’m in a hole…
I’m wonderfully miserable.

[Summer Storm]

Here now, my scuffed-up feet,
Walking for a mile in the summer storm,
With flashes of lightning, static in my heart
And through the sky-lit warmth.
The air between us is thick;
Much more than a mile to where you are.
But I hear your voice, like lightning,
Quick to pierce the distance we are apart.

[He Says: She is Flawless]

He has diamonds
Resting on his eyelids,
Like lenses;
He looks through to her.
So she glistens
As the fog spins
What look like stars upon her skin.
Not clearly does he see
She is an empty night sky
Disguised
By the diamonds in his eyes.

[I Never Make It Past the Mud Room]

You can mask your face in porcelain cream,
But someday the rain will wash it clean,
And you’ll be naked and scared of being seen.
Cut from the place you’ve tried hiding in,
With the hideous scars of all you’ve been:
Tainted, wicked, branded in sin.

[Pumpkin By Midnight] 

Across the deepening room,
The clock forms a thought in my mind
Of how, just like this fading night,
You and I are running out of time–
But a love letter will not say it now;
A thousand silent words cannot bring it out
Of my sorry, constricting chest,
Out from my desperate, gasping breaths.
The constant tickings on the wall
Each send panic lurching up my spine,
For I cannot hold the seconds still…
I cannot keep you, make you mine.

[Somber Beat]

Oh, if my touch does not turn your head
Is there a force that can move a heart so dead?
My heart will surely match that somber beat
When, painted blue, you leave.

 
ABOUT THIS POEM? FIND IT HERE : ABOUT MY POETRY

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