February 2012
i only have my lighter
with me in this box
that i’m buried in
i burn your name
in the plank lid
so i will not waste
my last bit of oxygen
because
i love you like that
the moon and i share long looks through the night
like lovers out with friends gaze from across the club
flirting in the opaque light, a wink here and there
she waxes and i wane until we both are full
the soft summers breeze carries my secrets to her
she is the moon, and she pulls me to her gently
then pushes me away…in and out…over and over
i’m in love with the moon, and...
and she wiped her fucking mouth of me
swish and spit down the drain
no time for a quick shower this time
just get the fuck out
one of these days i gotta quit you
just turn and walk away
but it’s nights like these that says that won’t happen
because her ass has me in a trance
and not an hour ago i had her ass in a trance
our love is shared only with the moon tonight
and the moon never speaks of secrets it holds
so until the blabbermouth sun peeks tomorrow
you and i shall have this night…yes we shall
i come for you as you sleep
quiet and swift so you do not stir
the moonlight reveals your pale neck
it is revealed just for me
i kiss you there softly just before i sink my teeth
and consume all that you are
because you are all that i am
Her waves lap and lick the sandy beaches of my backyard paradise. When the chill of winter gives way to the unexpected warmth of an early spring day, the shore of my Atlantic home is the most beautiful place on Gods good earth. All the troubles and tribulations of what life throws at me are whisked away and replaced with crashes of waves against the land. My heartbeat instinctively syncs...
aquietjoy:
mikefrawley:
another time
a former life
she came to be
came into me
my greatest joy
and one regret
too beautiful
for this cold world
far too fragile
the pain of this life
carried her to the next
I hope she found
what she was looking for
I did once
*sobs*
Taking Stock...The Things That Matter Most: For... →
zannus:
takingstockofwhatmattersmost:
For 20 years I lived a block off the Atlantic Ocean. For 20 years I sailed all the 7 seas. Mother ocean is my mother, and I know her well. To this day I long for her embrace and I still hear her calling softly to me, whispering into my ear the song of the sea. I will always have the wind in my…
I will be cremated and spread into the ocean, when I die. ...
http://runkeeper.com/user/stoxback/activity/7209476... →
I figure if I sync this with you all it will provide motivation for me to continue??? Or will I be spamming your dash?? Thoughts?
1 tag
“My angst riddled poetry will kick your angst riddled poetry’s ass!”
– ~Kevin
on days like today
when i’m at my fucking lowest
i know
that rock bottom
is not the actual bottom
there is a…below rock bottom
and that is where i’m at
staring up wishing i could
somehow, someway
climb the hell outta here
and find my way back to rock bottom
i used to love it there
3 tags
Thank you to all our new followers...WOW!! Now go...
~ Rachael, Antoinette & Kevin
i lean into you much as a wind swept tree
bending to the force of you
but never breaking, just flailing about
you whip me into a frenzy
uncovering the inner sanctum
an oak laid bare of it’s leaves
standing stark against the moons elegance
you are my winter mistress
candle wax burns my soul into yours
the pain only hurts as a reminder of the pleasure
a pleasure we inflict upon each other beautifully
our nights are filled with a sinful passion
only quenched by our intense pain
nights filled with this cacophonous rapture
the heat of me melts the cool of you
and in the mornings light
the wax drippings are surrounded by red
proof of our fucking beauty
3 tags
Alliteration Resignation
Kevin’s Note: You write your words your way…but write. You rhyme your rhymes your way…but rhyme. You inspire us your way…but inspire. Do not go anywhere though…keep writing my friend!! Take a break, it’s well deserved…but do not retire.
A reticent rhymer reluctantly writes his world surveyed through jaded eyes
Nimble and nifty, after writing 850 his...
“Poetry is ink and pen…and somewhere to begin.”
– ~Kevin
3 tags
takingstockofwhatmattersmost:
she walks barefoot along silken beaches
alone
save the seagulls
they are her constant companion
and where waves once danced
foot prints mark the recession
the drawing back to mother ocean
drawing her emotion with it
she will miss this
one day though, she will
return
2 tags
For 20 years I lived a block off the Atlantic Ocean. For 20 years I sailed all the 7 seas. Mother ocean is my mother, and I know her well. To this day I long for her embrace and I still hear her calling softly to me, whispering into my ear the song of the sea. I will always have the wind in my sails and salt ‘neath my nails. It’s been almost 6 years now since I have been upon...
1 tag
she walks barefoot along silken beaches
alone
save the seagulls
they are her constant companion
and where waves once danced
foot prints mark the recession
the drawing back to mother ocean
drawing her emotion with it
she will miss this
one day though she will
return
1 tag
“I write because I can breathe no other way…”
– ~Kevin
5 tags
Secreted Sins: Thoughts: On Writing, and... →
secretedsins:
I love writing. I really do. It holds meaning for me, even in times when I feel nothing means much of anything anymore.
Writing has been a companion to me through every painful experience I’ve survived, and has helped me to heal from them, when possible. It has served as the medium through which…
Amen…
this skin is spread thin
as we begin to descend
into the mind
thoughts carried on wind
of those that we’ve sinned
and our sanity we defend
we befriend and begin
our journey into the mind
will we now win
in the end
wind up with a grin
or be filled with chagrin
that will mend
one day
after we journey into the mind
i’m ready to start
just say…
when
1 tag
takingstockofwhatmattersmost:
i want to paint you alive but with my words instead of brushstrokes using ink instead of color yet paint you just as vibrant just as real as da Vinci painted Mona Lisa alive i want others to see you to see the slight curl of your lips with just that hint of aloof and to be able to gaze into the depth of your eyes and get lost as i get lost i want them to feel you...
3 tags
the ache in your eyes breaks me
yet you turn and walk away
leaving me with my heart in my hands
the very heart that you owned for years
and i think to myself, as you become so small,
what the hell do i do with this thing
i drop the now not beating heart on the floor
and close her door softly behind me
He’s always sitting at his antique writers desk, an indulged purchase after the success of his first novel. Norvell Ring was not a writer, at least not in his mind. Which was why his success caught him off guard…to say the least. He always thought himself a hack as he’d never put forth any effort in his writing. Norvell would just sit down and words flooded his mind,...
“I am humbled to be featured in prose, as I’m a self confessed non-prose...”
– ~Kevin
and i touch the center of your heart with my finger tips
you feel the ridges of my prints upon your inner soul
your soul you do not even allow God to see, only me
and you realize i grasp your heart and control it’s beating
i am the reason you are still breathing, my love
constricting and expanding your heart in perfect rhythm
breathing life into your worn lungs so that you may...
i want to paint you alive but with my words instead of brushstrokes using ink instead of color yet paint you just as vibrant just as real as da Vinci painted Mona Lisa alive i want others to see you to see the slight curl of your lips with just that hint of aloof and to be able to gaze into the depth of your eyes and get lost as i get lost i want them to feel you breathe see your chest rise and...
The hardest thing a writer must get used to is the fact that not everything you write will be great. Now that I’ve been around for many a year…I’ve realized that the hardest thing I must get used to is the fact that most of what I write will not be great. When that one great one does find it’s way out of my brain, via my arms/hand/fingers/pen, onto the paper...
spring lurks around every corner this morn’
just waiting for the right time to pounce
and shove ol’ man winter outta the way
spreading warmth and colorful beauty across the land
but i see that spring will be a coward today
as i gaze outside to my snow covered yard
maybe tomorrow spring will bloom
even the smallest pebble creates ripples
you are my pebble my love
i feel your ripples wash over me
the clouds were full over pisgah tonight
and the rain fell in sheets but silently
cool against our warm skin, steam rises
we climbed up the old water tower
and looked out over the tiny little town
soon we would leave that town forever
the town of our youth with all the memories
our swing-set at the park where we first kissed
and mrs. overtons willow where we
first made love, our initials...
i’m a purveyor of passion
a hopeless romantic
according to the masses
those who know me best
so if i surround myself
with the finer things
such as butterfly wings
angels that sing
and sparkling diamond rings
or mason jars filled
with a thousand fireflies
a world that never cries
walks on the beaches
hand in hand
and the pure white sands
slipping through fingers
love that...
your words seduce me on saturday mornings
falling all around me soft and quiet
i inhale them deeply
you are my mornings poetry
drinking you in, i want to drown in you
you terrify me
with the way ice crystals form
from your breath as you speak
and it’s mid-summers heat now
sins eat at the scars of past sins
the cycle of deceit is a vicious one indeed
soon there will no room for more scars
or more sins
my words on a page
are my metaphorical hearts feelings
for you to read
and apply to your situations
which i hope helps you in some way
my words are for you
i lie just for you
your love disorients me
and causes shallow breaths
oh how i love the way i feel
when i’m with you
living a life just waiting for the goodbyes
that you know will eventually come
because they eventually always have
will eventually take your sanity
just like it took
mine
when you say goodbye like that
it makes me think
then i smile to myself
turn and walk away
i used to love you
i fell to pieces tonight
my glass heart shattered upon your floor
jagged shards of love
still in the shape of my heart
but with all the cracks, craters and crevices
of you between each and every piece
i’ll leave it there
on the floor
it belongs to you anyway
loving a woman
starts with loving a man
the man in the mirror
without loving him first
loving her will not last
“Rue, thoughts and prayers Bro!! If you need anything!
FYI to you guys/gals”
– Had a check up then a follow up procedure guys. Will be out a couple of days. Seems my left femoral artery got blocked somehow. Will be in hospital at 5 in morning to do a rotor rooter type procedure to reopen artery. For you who believe in God ur prayers would be appreciated. Those of you who do...
Dripping Poetry
Onyx tears fall fluidly
From sadly swollen eyes
Dripping poetry upon the page
Now stained with her pain
i savor
the rain that slants
hiding the tears that sp
i
ll
and washes my sins
down the d
r
a
i
n…
i hope
9 tags
the moon sits high in the morning sky
still
not wanting to let go of the night
so too
do i