Inspiration
inspiration: "Pain. And lots of it." Misery loves company . . . but generally, company does not love misery back. I mean, when a person is suffering...
http://vasqi.deviantart.com/ I'm a artist painting in oil. I also write introspective poetry.
inspiration: "Pain. And lots of it." Misery loves company . . . but generally, company does not love misery back. I mean, when a person is suffering...
Only as a Poet. Can I see you. Or anything. Or speak. Or even breath. Only then can the world exist for me. For me to exist in. And be. As nothing grants life like poetry. Through the poem itself.
Birds fall. Like leaves. From the sky. Broken promises. Still held on to. From days gone by. Stillness squeezes into. An old room. Now emptied of life. Childhood wonders. It's joys. And strife.
Portals to the soul They call them But through these same Twain Thresholds saw them Looking back And judging me.
Pour in. Pour in. Pour in. Displace and replace. Like storm clouds into a peaceful sky. A shout into a quiet room. A tragedy into a dull day. Or common sense into an otherwise Republican mind.
Somewhere. Whereby dogs be waiting wildly. A cool breeze bending grass blades mildly. There you'll find me playing childly. And when at last I pause to ponder. All those people passing yonder.
As I'm driving A car passes me Going the other direction A woman is driving I feel nothing for her Why can't I feel that way about you.
I can't. Drink away a memory of you. Drinking away a memory of me. And I can't see. Myself. Waiting around. For someone to fix this. Down to one wish. Between a good hug. Or a long Kiss.
I am free Free to look and act how I want to And I want to look and act how I feel And that's something that changes All the time.
There's dumbness here Flowing Dumbing Flowing like the kitten hair That Tickles in my ear And there's numbness here Calling Running Chasing after Fireflies Still swimming through the air..
I still remember the first time I saw you. Before I knew enough to be looking for you. I remember you walking into the classroom with your friend. And wondering what you both were like.
Emptiness does not hesitate Does not speculate From a vast and bleak abyss It radiates Casting shadows upon that which it incorporates Laying waste As it expands and desecrates And then erasing As it...