Lovelorn Poet in Raleigh-Durham, NC: ~ Inheritance ~

The Monument by smilla4

The Monument by smilla4

I found out
My inheritance
That land it spans
Beyond that fence

My Father said
It’s so immense
The deed he left
In recompense

His Will by trust
My memories
My Father built
With Loving ease

And had not once
An empty plate
To Supper Last
He worked, we ate

Looking back
From where I came
I lost that self…
Not quite the same

And one day soon
The time will come
To return, my Father.

Love,
Your Son

~your poet~

her two cents 225px

 

 

 

My Son,

The time will come
To return
From where I came

Beyond that fence
My Father built

That land it spans
My inheritance
His Will by trust

The deed he left
In recompense

Looking back
My memories
It’s so immense

And one day soon
With Loving ease
An empty plate
To Supper Last

Love,
Your Father

Lovelorn Poet in London, ENG: Corrosive

corrosive

Corrisive, by unknown

: Sanguine
Love is corrosive,
Like rusty metal that flakes away and breaks apart.
And many people often forget..
That love often burns and purifies the heart.

By sitting utterly still,
I’ve seen the damage done
By this corrosive thing called Love.
Saw the marks on the faces of people
I’ve met..

So, if you ask me
Why do people seek out Love if it burns and scars so?
I say to them…
What also scars and burns
Purifies, to begin anew.

E.

her two cents 225px

 

 

 

also and anew
apart
ask away

begin breaks

called

damage
do done

faces
flakes forget

heart

I
is it?

like

many
marks
me
met metal

of
on out

rusty

sanguine
saw
say seek
seen sitting still

the
them
thing
this

utterly

what? w
hy?

you

Lovelorn Poet in Raleigh-Durham, NC: ~To And Fro~

Groomsmen Swinging by Billy Wilson

Groomsmen Swinging by Billy Wilson

My Love it falls
Upon the breeze
And gently leaves
Good memories

In world unique
Where Love does speak
Like smiles that children
Swinging seek

That to and fro
And, Oh– the peak!
Where up again
We look, and shriek!

Happy-laughing
Marveling–so
Those butterflies…
To and fro

~your poet~

her two cents 225px

 

 

 

Upon the breeze, Good memories
Where Love does speak, Swinging seek
And, Oh– the peak! We look, and shriek!
Marveling–so, To and fro
~
That to and fro
Those butterflies…
~
My Love it falls
And gently leaves
Happy-laughing

 

Lovelorn Poet in Brooklyn, NY: The World

The World

The World

The sun rises like a brushstroke
of infinite possibilities
gently

whispering its bright morning
earth light on
all

so we can see, how beautiful
it can
be

mindgallery twitter – beatboxbliss tumblr

her two cents 225px

 

 

 

we can
be beautiful

like the sun whispering its possibilities
infinite
so bright

earth light
gently rises
a brushstroke of morning
on all

see, how it can
we can
be beautiful


Lovelorn Poet in New Orleans, LA: I Remember I Love You… But Not Much Else

Muse, Muse... Won't You Dance? by Ben Ledbetter

Muse, Muse… Won’t You Dance? by Ben Ledbetter

It really is a unique city
New Orleans

Where beautiful architecture comes to die
We are thousands of people displaced some returned some never came back
Of course some. . .

I fear like these buildings I am losing my history
My memory is shanty and crumbly these days

I remember major events in my life you of course were the biggest
But even that there is a faded memory

I remember I loved you like really loved you like I’ve never loved anyone else
But I wouldn’t know your face from anyone else in a small crowd

I guess that’s for the better for everyone involved
I just hope someday I develop new memories here that stick a little longer.

her two cents 225px

 

 

 

I am a unique city losing my history
I fear my memory is a faded memory
I remember these days, these buildings,
I remember beautiful architecture, shanty and crumbly
I loved you like I’ve never loved anyone else
I develop, but even there you die displaced
I wouldn’t know your face, thousands of people in a crowd
I guess that’s for the better
I just hope it really is returned
to New Orleans