trevor44
the ball slams
heartthrob
richoet
of soul and mind
time stops in that moment
as it always does
when i see you
but this time it speeds up
afterwards
a sense of affection drops away
into the timeless abyss
waiting watching hoping for
one more kiss
The yellow flowers
in their overt comeuppance
of the spring time throngs
fell fearlessly to the ground
after three days in bloom
then a new bud
a new sprout
stands against the tide
fearless in his opportunity
to sprout, bloom, and flourish
before falling softly to their rest
The yellow flowers
in their overt comeuppance
of the spring time throngs
fell fearlessly to the ground
after three days is bloom
then a new bud
a new sprout
stands against the tide
fearless in his opportunity
to sprout, bloom, and flourish
before falling softly to their rest
I blasted away at the heart
of the one who used to say
yes
all the time.
shafted she was
once in the bed
now on the street
swearing, yelling, hurling insults
filled with profane and
harsh sounds
like a gunshot in the
wound of another being
I have found the gun blast brings
release.
Busyness is a fire.
life burns
slowly,
and what is found in tune within
is seemless work.
I don't know what it is
to rest;
i only know fire.
i only know work.
and the flames burn
my flesh to cinders
and my soul to ash.
Knock down the door!
All falls in centers of walls
Shallow and little is the stability seen
And Boom to you another
Boom
What in this dim lit hallway could awaken me
From castles
of boom
boom boom
What
but a knock
baby girl
don't cry
everything's fine
its all okay
everywhere
everything
in this huge world
what a lie
what bulls**t
what enigmatic fallacy
we're taught
as children
in life
by our raisers
and suitors
and others
Visitations are held up
by the soft, lined hands
of those who love
without restraint
without condition
who can simultaneously
see all fault and problem
and love anyways
presence is what we speak of
presence is what we notice
sometimes people attend an event
but really never visit
Promises are lighted by the soul
behind the words that flow from the mouth.
and each promise give to man
from man
or nature
or God is
a breath of fresh air
in which we see our true selves:
selves made for trust more than distrust
for hope more than anxiety
and for love more than fear
I mus walk forward
and step in line
and do my chores
make it to work on time
I musn't fall
or fail myself
I have to cook
and fix that shelf
and it all screams a kind of must
but its not true--that you can trust
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the words you reach for
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