not being seen by anyone besides this poet.
Placing it’s presence now in a poem to be
looked at and recognized.
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Apparent reasoning belies certain facets of imagination.
Moving forward through a crystal gel, feeling intimately, every sense awakening and being brought out into the open.Actually touching feelings with a sixth sense, trying to know what they are and put them into a context of reality.Stroking them, examining every facet to bring about some knowledge, then sending all information to a subconscious part…
Writing poetry is a way I have to get into people’s minds,
Tears piled inside for years find their way down faces of withheld sorrow.Relieving hearts of many, my poetry is kept always in hearts gentle hands.11347
A repertoire of words playing with musical notes, composing themselves into a myriad of melodies, taking me beyond where I have always been.
Touching a mind with violinist’s strings, playing ever so gently the rhymes I have strung out to match your song.
Exacting figures of time are elusive,
trying to keep out of the spotlight.On sides of rhythm, going faster thanany race horse traveling down thestraight away.Falsely proving an amount of steadypacing, then going off on a tangent.Provoking an amount of energetic spasms,as they fall away.
Watching rhythms come into being as they are sung in voices on karaoke nights.
Enjoying the music with energetic elation, never regretting any moment we get together and have fun in rhythmical pleasure.Laughing, everyone knowing who we are, as we rock in the hallways every time.