Idyllic

This time of your life, to learning be true.
For is you learn little, small mind have you.
Do not disadvantage life's offerings.
Drink of all knowledge, and give it esteem.
For if you dwell in obscure wisdomry.
Left dormant, the remainder brain just dreams.

__________________
you can tell them all you want but it won't matter until they think it does

p.s. I contradict my contradictions, with or without intention, sometimes.

Idyllic

Dear do not weep,
It wasn’t a crime.
Very few people,
Or reasons in time.
Really make sense,
Concoctions of rhyme.
Every religion,
Bought for a dime.

Dear do not wonder,
It wasn’t our time.
Victory is numbing,
Organic divine.
Realize it’s nothing,
Conventions of mime.
Every word left unspoken,
Deteriorates my mind.

Just define ”fine”,

Everybody is human,
Life’s just about time…..

__________________
you can tell them all you want but it won't matter until they think it does

p.s. I contradict my contradictions, with or without intention, sometimes.

Idyllic

I write less and less about you,
and more and more about me,
standing in the rain,
where the storm washes my face
of tears and rinses my clothes
of your scent, and yet
the smell of my own perfume
reminds me of you.

I don't think I will wear it again,
It's not as sweet as it used to be.

__________________
you can tell them all you want but it won't matter until they think it does

p.s. I contradict my contradictions, with or without intention, sometimes.

Idyllic

I can smell it from here,
1,000 miles away,
the crude hypocrisies,
floating on the surface,
coating everything,
with the toxic poison,
muddy rhetoric,
engulfing the delta with sticky despair.

I can see the emptiness,
hear the silence,
the crescendos crushed,
smoothed solid slatches,
by deadly velvet disorder,
and chaos killing,
the very essence of creation.

Generations ended,
in dense oily blood,
gushing from mother earth,
unstinted, unstopped, unbelievable…..
the sorrow, the sorrow,
silences even the death flies,
for nothing dead is of value,
even to the dead eater’s,
just deaths invitation for looking,
for landing,
for living in their home,
until even the air they breath,
is breathless,
congealed there,
their life's over,
a melted plastic coating,
sealing,
stifling all resolve.

__________________
you can tell them all you want but it won't matter until they think it does

p.s. I contradict my contradictions, with or without intention, sometimes.

pan6467

A beautiful poem. Not only with a message of your fear of what is happening, but so nicely descriptive.

__________________
I just love people who use the excuse "I use/do this because I LOVE the feeling/joy/happiness it brings me" and expect you to be ok with that as you watch them destroy their life blindly following. My response is, "I like to put forks in an eletrical socket, just LOVE that feeling, can't ever get enough of it, so will you let me put this copper fork in that electric socket?"

Idyllic

(this was dedicated to my husband 8 years ago)

Awaiting Arrival

If ever I wondered, what it would be,
A kiss on my lips, between you and me.
Like wine I will savor, like dreams coming true,
I close my eyes, and think of you.

How stories unfold, and fantasies unravel.
I would carry you with me, wherever I'd travel.
I would tell you of realities, I've wanted to know.
And you would take my heart with you, where ever you'd go.

So close your eyes, tilt back you head.
Dream of my kisses, lying in bed,
Dream of my fingers, dream of my toes,
Dream of me lovingly, body and soul.

Hear all my whispers, hear all my screams,
Listen closer, and hear all of my dreams.
Come to me madly, come to me slow,
Open my shadows, and watch our love grow.

Fiercely I'll love you, and soon you will see,
Deep within my body, a part of you will be.

Together we will slumber, sweetness and cream,
You will wake in the morning, and catch me a dream.
And nine months from now, my dream will come true,
From one little drop of miracle, and we two.

__________________
you can tell them all you want but it won't matter until they think it does

p.s. I contradict my contradictions, with or without intention, sometimes.