Mind of a Hopeless Romantic Part I

It doesn't take much to make me want
everything you could want me to have
and hold from this day forward...I will
begin to feel what you have commanded
with the endless breathe of destiny's
folklore...I am the main character in this
epic tale.

It doesn't take much to make me want
anything you prepare for any meal of the
year...devouring for nourishment is an
over indulgent pleasure in which I am a
guilty glutton; the example of what not
to be unless you yearn for this everlasting
thirst..I am the pirate on the black flagged
ship sailing your open seas.

It doesn't take much to make me want
nothing more than endless possibilities when
it comes to the passions held deep within...I
am searching tirelessly for an array of variations,
slightly redundant because the familiarity of
your impressions upon my own concept of being
is an addiction that must be chased, yet I admire
the duality that your presence creates in my
reality...I am the unknown to the mind of a
hopeless romantic.

Telling Emotion

Making plans for the future should mirror
making present improvements,
If you really, and I mean really, want to have a go,
you need more than preparation...

Motivation through intimidation? Perhaps...
I'm just speculating challenges,
balancing life's loves
And life's passions, i.e.
Lust versus needs, then needs versus wants
Because too much of anything will make u dependant,
Unless u have a stronger, or rather a fixed mind...

Maybe my lines reveal the truth so when
My lies become lines they will build the descriptions of
Telling falsehoods, prancing on the balance beam of reality;
Emotions may fail to express, so when we speak we may be
further away than when we started;
And when these things fall,
We measure where these things are measured...apart...

Am I Worthy?

Well...
it's hard not to feel hurt,
especially when you lose something you held near your heart,
Or you find that you aren't the person you thought you were,
but Rather you are something more of who you consistently
criticize as part of your personal dissertation on character flaws;
This, my friend, confirms that you are a walking contradiction.

How can you be at peace with this, call yourself a good person,
Look your beloved in the face, wanting respect and love,
When those were the first two things you destroyed
in your quest to "do you" so to speak. I imagine, I too, would
marvel at my abilities if my main objective was to
accumulate the "things I need" through manipulation, leaving out
all other possibilities that rely on faith and the reciprocation
of good works.

Well...
I imagine it is hard to feel hurt when you lose something you
held near your heart, when it was truly your irresponsibility
that lead to the loss...
I imagine if I were you I wouldn't feel worthy of any praise or
the acquired "things I need" that I had received through my
skillful manipulation, because I left out all other possibilities
that rely on faith and the reciprocation of good works...
I would not...feel worthy...I would not be worthy.

A Bad Day-A Poem

Tagged by intention, revealed with fate
Revisited by emotion, led astray with lack of faith
Captioned by spectators, viewed by the public
Trampled by spikes, ground by the grains
Eroded by tears, exaggerated with fears
Repeated by nightmares, erased with time…

Classified by weather, eclipsed with the sun
Provoked by misunderstanding, moved by intent
Dimmed by ignorance, drowned by the lies
Corrupted by hatred, twisted with doubt
Repeated by nightmares, erased with time.

Jealous One

She speaks when he's with her, smiling brightly
with batted eyes that linger as she passes by;
her accomplishments are similarly measured,
looking forward to the opportunity to raise
awareness of her existence...the Jealous One.

She hopes to see her pull his coat tail, roll her eyes,
suck her teeth or ask, "Who is she?"...for she
knows that success in her trade can only be
measured by another's misery or unhappiness;
whether an old flame or a play thing on the side,
she is looking forward to the opportunity to raise
awareness of her existence...the Jealous One.

She sends random messages, emails, text messages,
voice mails, letters, voice mails, etc., at inappropriate
times, purposefully, hoping to get a response that
will reveal that her master plan to separate two
love birds has worked; now she can move in for
some clean up duty...since she has raised the
awareness of her existence...the Jealous One.

She puts down her so-called friends...critical, tactless
statements supported by the infamous justification of
being a good friend or refusing to lie or bite her tongue;
all the while she is wishing she had what her so-called
friends had, the guys the other girls had, the guys
she couldn't appreciate...because she has to raise the
awareness of her existence...the Jealous One.

She seems to hate anyone that appears to be
enjoying life and life's treasured gifts,
anyone who has accomplished personal goals or
lives anywhere close to where she envisioned for
herself but she didn't quite make it...because she has
to raise the awareness of her existence...the Jealous One.

Remember When

Remember when our love was fresh? Each day
and time we touched, we could barely catch our
breathe; the slightest eye contact would give
little chills...and wonders of how amazing
everything feels.

Remember when our love was fresh? Each night
and time we held each other, we could lose
ourselves in the race between the North Star
and Eastern Star...we were gazers, marveling
at our own light, justifying the jealousy of the
moonlit sky.

Remember when our love was fresh? Each dream
was a million interpretations of infatuations
revolving around symbolic metaphors that yearned
for poetic verbiage to pencil in an appointment for a
sonnet...we were magnificent, we were undeniable,
we were love...We Are...

I sure remember and could never forget
My heart,
My Soul Mate...
The Love I Could Never Regret