Poems, poems, and more poems... DON'T LAUGH!!

Harmony with a Thief

You are no artist, this is not true art.
I will see real works, this you must believe,
Now soon the artist’s touch I will receive.
You see, I’ve taken chances, done my part,
Dreamt softly deepest in my heart.
To me you may lie, but do not deceive,
To all who know the truth, are you relieved?
A blessing but a curse? At least a start.

For one so judgmental, you choose the past,
Truly, my art is fresh, the future, now!
Your poor, tiny heart will quickly heal and mend,
And all will see the world is great and vast.
So hush my child, many heed your vow,
Your world of art is nowhere near the end.
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observer

Majestic trees sit
watching, deliberating
not one sheds a leaf
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Rose Work

Toys, intimate playthings
Pink, red and peach
Double A batteries, ac wall adapters
Passion, commitment and trust
Welcome to the world of Passion Parties by Kayla
Cash, check, Visa© and MasterCard© accepted
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Shame on Me

A full moon sits perched over me as I sit here and count the days until I can see you again...
I can't think, I can't dream, I can only wait for you to be back at my side...
To be back at my lips and to taste you again, to be under your spell...
I’m surrounded by others, but I feel alone without you, nothing else matters but what I see in your eyes...
I hope that your passion is for me and not they don't put on a show, please let me in...
Do you really love me, or do you use me as a replacement for her? I wonder, because here I am...
A full moon perched over me as I sit here and count the days until I can see you again, but you're not coming for me, you never will...
Once again, you fooled me...
This time, shame on me...
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The Stupidity of America

reality tv, paris hilton, the Gay Debate, gun control versus the entitlement to artillery, abortion versus the privilege to exist, sovereignty of choice, candor of speech, freedom of “LIFE, liberty and the pursuit of happiness”

who said that I wanted to pursue happiness? where’s my freedom to pursue disappointment, failure? when will this alleged great nation recognize my right to…

In this country of whiners, this melting pot of critics, we are taught, no BRED to weasel our will upon others. To force our hand to get what we want.

If the world is a family, then we are the spoiled, bratty five year old who wants THAT toy
starvation, mutilations, confrontations, assassinations, executions, massacres, slaying, murder, rape

the Forsaken Ones, neglected, cast off, abandoned, pushed out of sight and out of mind

When will we acknowledge our right to be the good samaritan? When will we reach out a hand to help of our own free will, not to receive something in return, but just because we are the bigger man, and because our mothers taught us that we should? When will we forget about profit and pride and remember humility and honor?
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Tipping the Scales

I stare at your voluptuous curves as steam rolls of your soft edges
I smell the honey essence you butter the air with
slowly I reach for your gentle touch
but I stop
and remember my vow.
now you taunt me from across the bar where I see your body glisten in the dull glow
suddenly deciding to chance the numbers, I grasp for you
and I gradually cut at the tension that has been baked into your very soul
exposing you so that my eyes can devour what my mouth has been missing
I cover you with the velvety treat we’ve both been waiting for
I’m ready to devour you and as I do a broad grin spreads across my face
my chastity may be broken, but the bottomless vacuum is quenched, finally
where have you been my warm, welcoming friend…
bread.
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Waking Nightmare

I’m scared to close my eyes,
but I don’t want to keep them open to the horrors of what is here.
Sleep eludes me in one blink and chases me in the next.
Visions of ghosts haven’t quite faded from my sight,
and I jump at every knock and bang.
As I hear the clap of thunder and wait for the pain, I count sheep.
Suddenly sheep turn to predators, grabbing at me
nothing is innocent.
Should I sleep and return to the horrors of the dark, hellish world that waits for me to close my eyes every night
or should I stay awake and wait for my inner demons to devour me, soul and all?
Such is the terror that patiently waits for me during the daylight hours.
It lets me laugh with the sun and makes me cry at the sight of the moon.
As I pray for the horizon to light up, my pen grows heavy in my hand and the darkness pulls me in,
new horrors slowly seeping in with every inch of lucidness lost.
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Wasting Away

in the dark shadows of the hallway
she thinks about her dreams she thinks about her plans she thinks about the visions
she knows there will never be anything but a past
her words seem to misplace their meanings as she repeats them over and over
future
future
future
future
the future is never coming for her
she is stuck
haunted by imps
twisted lies she told now consume the hollow body where her soul once thrashed for liberation
oh well all that is important now is how she is glued to this very spot
never moving never changing
she will continue to do the same thing for the rest of her short miserable existence
Her future withers swiftly and in silence while his is just blooming.