The Tortured Poets Department has a writer’s division that has to approve every poem before it goes out
And my mind is tired of being held hostage
A loose-leaf definition of writer’s block was once defined by the utter of: I don’t feel like writing, this isn’t good enough, my hand only works for the remote today
Then she interrupts my train of thought to ask: why have you never wrote a poem about me
It’s not that I haven’t
There are 100s getting as comfortable as you can be in the waste basket
The last poem I Kobe shot, Melo made, and Curry posed to the trash can started like this:
An eye lash is trying to make your cheek more than just a Sunday service sanctuary
It wants a home
I know you’d like me to remove it
But who am I to destroy a home
I can’t help but think how beautiful you look with that eye lash
As it rests there like a pair of doves flirting on a branch not far away from me
What are you starring at, she exclaims
Oh, nothing I reply, today I’ll let the eye lash remain
On
Your rosy cheeks, kissed by my dead rose petal lips
Reminding you of the time we went camping and you hated that you smelled the outside
You hated that you smelled like outside
And I kept teasing you but hiking, visualizing, and tenting next to nature is maybe the closest thing to
Falling asleep to your beautiful
Falling asleep to your beautiful
Falling asleep to your gorgeous
Ugh, I can never find the right words to describe a tenth of your gorgeous
And it makes me want to drop dead out of frustration
Because the writers need to feel exactly what I do when they read:
Holding her hand is to get a glimpse of forever before I die
Holding her makes my heart resemble the flight of a butterfly
Holding her hand is to hold my battles in the palm of my hand and make them cry
The writers consist of a delicious various assortment of personality; often referred to as me, myself, and I
Every time I get ready to seal this poem to you the writer’s block me from letting you receive it
p.s. I haven’t learned to love myself enough to love you…

The clock, the watch, the phone all have eyes that watch from the view of 2 AM untamed
Heart rates jumping like the heat of the flame
Me plus You is a movie, what is the name
Our love doesn’t fit in the frame
So, cameras get jealous of the panorama pane
Real love never goes without pain that can be immense
So, if you’re hurt let patience play offense
Slow dancing with your memories is a nostalgic essence
Sweat dancing with the burning scent
Wick burning with confidence
Mirroring our silhouette, naked thoughts present tense
My hands without your curves, a death sentence
Each kiss turns a page of my sixth sense
I don’t need a third eye to see your imperfect contents
Table this: beauty is born from cracks so use the hurt as accents
She is priceless so keep your two cents
Temptation is off limits but I climbed the fence
The candle falls asleep to our aroma, hence
The flame goes out, conclusion love making after an argument
Sweet dreams enter in the tango of sheets, legs, hearts, rest swiftly to the comfort of her name
My heart is tied to yours, no more games
I’ve played tug of war and came out lame
No more burns unless it’s from the candle tamed
p.s. this is what it feels like when peace kisses love…

Have you ever let your mind sit under a cherry blossom tree
The poetic renewal massages the stress away the same way as the beach waves
Copy and paste, lying next to you is like closing your eyes under the sunset oceanside
A bright blushing sky with kisses of orange, and blue with a honeyed taste that simply grabs you
But nothing is as sweet as your sugar, under the shade of this suite
Fresh chill of a neutral setting is cooked by our body temperature
Peace in the reflection is bringing us closer
When I look back at how we arrived at this destination within the calm ripples I see a truth in the tomb of love at first sight
Our photograph under the light being born from fallen petals is a coveted site
I had to see the treasure I already had instead of searching for gold
That’s when our story began to unfold, I hate folding clothes
I rather unfold and devour deep conversations over shallow beverages
She likes easy ice, but I want more, as deep as the roots of this tree
The ying and yang
Discovering the ocean intricacies when it closes its eyes to dream and wakes up with a kiss complemented by a southern twang
She’s my main thang, calling my land line
Our language reads between the lines
Wrinkled with age or bitten white chocolate sheets
I love seeing your cherry blossom cheeks
p.s. you be the pink and I’ll be the red for Valentine’s…

In life, we say I love you,
Many won’t mean what they say.
In poetry, we say I love and then we take you somewhere further than outer space.

I say I love you to many in many different ways,
Love is too complicated then dares to never make sense.

There are so many ways to love someone only real love could understand the rest.

I love her as my Nurturer,
An artist who molded the most beautiful clay,
The momma bear whose cubs never starved a day.

I love him as my Foundation,
The cement of my soul when the tides of life wash the rest of me away,
The tesla of my heart he made me the light on your darkest days.

I love him as my own heart,
The fragile passion none could ever corrupt or dethrone,
The hero to my sidekick for as long as he lives I’ll never let him truly be alone,
He looks out for me, I’m his almost clone.

I love her as the earth loves the sky,
Sometimes she is my shade,
Sometimes she brings the rain,
Sometimes she may be the storm,
The mother of the artist,
She is the vision that the masterpiece was made for.

I love him as my mentor,
The flame of my candle when lost in the dark,
The script to the play when I never had a chance to practice my part,
The man behind the blueprint to a better-built heart.

I love them as my brothers,
A bond close to kin,
Should they never question my loyalty,
We save each other from our sins.

I love them as my sisters,
A love to fill a void of the things never had,
A love to protect and be vulnerable when things are good or bad.

I love them as family,
The kindest faces the ones we have yet to meet,
The only love that times has yet to defeat.
An impossible connection that defies the very ground beneath your feet.

I love her as the moon
Her love is my sun
No earth in sight,
A connection stronger than the deadliest spider web none has ever spun.

I love her as her escape
No interest in whether she deserves peace,
I’ll be her chance to just run away,
If she goes too far or finds herself lost,
I’ll love her as her return
For things that need her most could never recover from such loss.

I love them as their comfort,
I place they can be safe,
I’ll be their pillar until they need a pillow,
I’ll be both for them on my best days,
I’ll also be their discomfort because growth won’t happen any other way.

As for myself, my love is a Thorny mirror
For the things that I feel are a reflection of what I serve.
A taste-blind chef with intentions of shaking the world.
I love myself in a place of solitude as the one who hates to love alone.
I’ve been so far from where I was I forgot that I’ve passed where I wanted to go.
That’s what happens when aren’t looking ahead.
Now I just want to be bonded with the dream I’ve always had love for a gamble on a shooting star.
Memories of the longest chapter I’ve ever written so far.
Love for the one who always gets a page no matter what chapter I’m on.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life,
Therefore, every next one I’m in-is a new chapter.
Every morning, I wake up, God’s mercies to me are new-
So, with on my heart, His daily touch- I am able to prove…
That I love Him, that I am thankful-that He is the only One able
To mold and strengthen my life, because it’s so easily breakable.

Just one more day to prove-how much for others I will lose.
And know that my tears for others are real,
Because always for the next person, I’m to lift up-
I’ll lose if they can gain, the Master of the universe to me explains…
That He was there always, and is there forever-
He has placed His Word inside of me. as the greatest Treasure!

A time to be married to my beautiful wife,
A time to live with my kids,
Time and again to prove my life is (for others) to give!
A time to know, a time of notion
A time to grow in the fact connection,
That helping others build, is in-tact protection.

A chapter to heal with the faithful “Unsealed”
Understanding (unworthily) I have been blessed for real!
whether I look back, or pierce through ahead
Life is still permanently on track, my life is hid-my life is dead!
But that’s a good thing…Because it’s the old life that’s dead!

It makes me smile as I cry…
Knowing all the while-my soul will never die!
Rather in eternity-with Christ is life forever,
And best of all, while down here on this earth…
Is to show my schizophrenia has no worth-
Over the grace of God-that I cling to endeavor!

As chance and chapter to prove purity-is more dominant than deceit
With the bowels of the new heart and spirit-God has freely given me!!!

…Amen

4-24-24

Give me peaches like burning clouds.

The vermillion mass of blankets reflects off the Vermilion Great Lakes.

Like the raging sorrow and disbelief that my heart floats upon.

Intensity blooms in the latitude as I see you for the last time.

A weeping willow as I cry under the tree.

Eyes drooping with rainstorms.

Nothing more seems to amaze me.

As the pull of your spirits linger.

Sunshine beams fearlessly through the hurricane of Venus like clouds.

“Be as thy presence is gracious and kind” something you would tell me when my mind tornadoes.

Mind flustered with dazzling memories.

Lightning over me with your nourishing energy that conveys everywhere I drift on Earth.

Our compressed bond brings me back to resilience.

I will always levitate on the sweet joy that you left behind.

People all around have lost their sight
In return has made this world loose its light
Hate and darkness are spread
while people try to hide it all with meds
Instead of opening their eyes they become more blind
which makes the light harder to find
People are becoming more like animals losing sight of humanity
Which is destroying the future you see
We all secretly want the same thing
to truly be loved & not shown pain
We forget to be the person we needed when we were younger
especially when that darkness hit with that Hungers
People can always be the change in this world & save humanity
Even if it just starts with you and little Ol me
Someone must finally open their eyes
To see past all the masks, disguises, & lies
Just as easy as hate can spread
Love & Kindness could be instead
One match can bring light to the dark
The dark cannot overpower the spark
Unless you give that power away
Nobody can make or break your day
Working together for the greater good
Has been somehow misunderstood
It is time we all open our hearts & quit being sheep
Show love instead & let the evil sow what it reap

The Art of Growth

Stagnant. Dormant. Idle. Sluggish.
All feelings of a pace I’ve gotten too familiar with.
I’m in a courtship with anxiety,
And an engagement with depression.
Yet, these are two relationships I don’t want to be a part of.

Reflect. Ponder. Meditate. Think.
These daily reminders ping in my head.
Telling me to give myself a break, take it easy, let it out and let it go.
But they only stay for the moment, and then I forget to be kind to myself.

I wonder what being 30 is like for others.
I wonder what being 30 is like for me.
Am I behind? Am I lost? Is this okay?

I reflect on how everyone is moving at their own pace.
I ponder over how far I’ve come, yet how short of a time I’ve been around.
I meditate on how there’s no such thing as behind, because this is my version of now.
I think about how being lost isn’t a bad thing. It’s an opportunity to learn.
It’s okay. I’ll be okay. And that’s the art of growth.