A collection
I want you I need you
To feel you I love you
But that cannot change the fact
Our hopes will not remain in tact
Our desires are just a wistful wind
Of paradise and Cardinal sin
We follow blind as a sheep in the dark
Looking for some god to spark
A joy in us to be provoked
Based on trust that ain’t no joke
An honest love that’s lights our soul
On fire with that glowing gold
A Magic power that won’t be doused
By circumstance or whereabouts
That will hold fast made to outlast
But Our moments past shatter like glass
So now’s the time to take and grab
The feeling of that gratuitous laugh
Sublime slices
The ripeness of each other’s devices
Despite prices
I’m indulging and evolving
My crisis
You can love the feeling
But time is not free
I’m waiting on what’s been coming to me
You can try to hold on
But This life is a dream
I’m hoping we can both be redeemed
You can love the feeling
But time is not free
All our moments
Are fleeing from me
You can Try to hold on
But this life is a dream
All our moments
Are fleeing from me
You’re my only-- only one who loves me holds me
When I’m lonely only, scolds me when I’ve done
Something so cold, I’ll boldly come
console you, hold our moments close so you can
tell the truth is whole, when I’m with you, there is no
hole, my soul is full, how flowers bloom, see gardens grow
I’ve come to sow, bestow you with my loving force you know
Each moment is to be cherished,
be Embarrassed cause I’m declaring you the fairest
Even marriage has it’s edges, let’s be rebellious with love extensive,
Let’s be relentless, climb any fences, over pretenses, so I’m the menace,
To your incentives, no I’m the stimulus to your intelligence, yes let’s be intimate
And get to feelin’ it, each instant for what really it is, just a second of frivolous medicine, you can’t predict the end so let’s make what we imagine
You can love the feeling
But time is not free
All our moments
Are fleeing from me
You can Try to hold on
But this life is a dream
All our moments
Are fleeing from me
---
KING OF ENGLISH LIT
English Professor,
Like Melville’s infamous lawyer?
With honest justified force,
Breathing that high air;
Must be like Re Reading America…
While enchanted students sit bravely
Prepared for an onslaught
Of natural intent, a nighttime fire
Is burning to light our minds with his lit mind.
Dive deep beneath some general
Outline. What fine points.
From a rural yard (I imagine a Hemingway home)
Learned from brown, red, white trees,
To schools: of gold so blue;
For a city of high students
He sits in a chair— that is high too.
His position to me should be exalted to literary statistician.
When he extricates it is an exorcism.
Pulling flesh from form to transform,
The carcass that remains is bloody as hell,
Easy to understand in its nakedness.
What Mind Readings,
Such deep reading,
Undoubtedly full of meaning,
Devotedly delivering his methods of teaching.
Upstanding, with classy wit,
Outstanding by brandishing sharp words as swords.
Speaks more with feeling than Othello the Moor!
A smugness of purity, what toughness, what grit…
Master of the wilderness, King of English lit!
---
In the morning, each mourning
...Just as it sounds...
I am mourning; over dead dreams.
Did I frolic through golden rich flowers?
As a young man did I smile inside
A bed of innocence.
Why did I awake to become poor?
Where did I grow old? Under what cracking roof?
I remember in the morning, each mourning
It matters not my decay,
All the "beautiful days'"
Such scattering of dutiful praise:
Will headlong, or worse, thoughtfully drown.
Maybe they'll be evaporating steam over my mouth-Soured shut with dissipating ideas of cloudy paradise...
Instead of darkness- but still, without light.
Painless truth.
Come morning of my death, when night-time dreams And hope-filled dreams have sudden left.
There is solace in the mourning.
---
Standing on my roof top
When the moon dropped
Shallow above my head
Slow night no traffic is a mellow thing
I could hear the ocean bellowing
Calling my name
So I drove to pier to take a swim
In the early am
Just to feel the icy waves
Bring goosebumps to my skin
Tired of always feeling a slave
The moonlight was awakening
Something forgotten within
My calm seafaring champion
The seas rock and won't stop for asking
wave upon wave keep crashing
slave on slaves run poor interaction
Til the routine's soothing's mastered
How'd I get Lost in the ocean
On my back floating
Why didn't I notice my horizon line unfocused
The fresh pine smell gone
My memory's turned on
Hopes of the coastland
But most hands aren't dealt
Better than their host stands
And my host is cold and boisterous
Inside this great wide open
I tried to scream but my voice just
wouldn't be redeemed
my Choices weak as dreams
I Fainted and fell asleep
The sick love is taking
Upon fainting we are awaking
No more forsaking what was forsaken
No time for taking, we're making paces
Steps into the depths
Where the water races
Kept in a chest was her body at death
Peaceful at rest
Turns out I never left
My roof, moon still blazing
Standing on my roof top
When the moon dropped
Shallow above my head
Slow night no traffic is a mellow thing
I could hear the ocean bellowing
Her past calling to me
She is more than a siren
She who fell to the bottom of the sea
Without even saying fare well
She is less than my lies when
I'm inventing to re-imagine her dying
Her smile alive
Like a boat capsizing
A willing captain Loses his prize
Kept his eyes but blind to life
Still he strives to find
The diamonds of her kindness
The Mind Ablaze, Prose&Poetry, 16-99, 10000, Aaron Barth-Martinson, thought provoking and different.