A Dream Within a Dream

As cynical as this may seem, I often see poets cutting the seams between poetry and the extreme.
As humans it’s difficult to express love through words so we go back to touch and at times it’s too much.
Projecting ideas and similes that have gone unchecked, they leak deep in mind dripping down my spine.
Let the soft-spoken wisdom of last night resonate, oft then not, it seldom seems to sink in until you dream.

It may be a semantic test even though it feels like a beat pumping more than blood inside of my chest.
The concaved debris of yesterday’s mistake still remains, it is almost like a still frame picture show of pain.
The difference between them and me is the same thing that determines what is to become of humanity.
At last it was only closed eyes to this thing we call reality, and as cynical as it may seem…
It was only a dream.

Love Not Lost

Conceive this, the voices that fled sound better off inside my head.
The idea that was derived eventually let up and died.
A melting pot at best the human heart left the soul to stress.

The undeceive thoughts that pour all you individual doubts.
Leaves a strain on mental anguish that provokes a different language.
Confused and feeling lost this lusting after love leaves us exhaust.

I have been there before my friend, trying to make friends with the devil again.
At some cost it’s not love that is lost, it is what gained through memory and pain.
So open up once more and let life guide you… if not then life will deny you.

Tangent Lines

Some one needs to dictate what I say, simply because, every time I talk people seem to look the other way. It gets old and frustrating dealing with the same new hypocritical notion from her, him, and them. Don’t they understand it was my poetic potion that I pulled from the ocean? It is the Pisces in me that tends to convert every little detail into some type of meaning.

Everyone quiet please. Let the professor speak. The tangents that come and go to help create this lyrical flow stands no chance to ring sense or bells in the trouble head of some one else. I like to sit on my rock and preach and hopefully something I teach will make this one person listen to me.

It is hard to comprehend the now and the then, when it is the same ol’ same ol’ over and over again. If it is not you then it must be me. Brad Lee how did you get off this reef? Did I mention my rock is just my thoughts? So I sit once again waiting and contemplating, hoping one day this charade that you play will wilt away like the winter roses in May.

I never give up I keep on keeping on. At same time I keep things within. It bottles up and explodes in the end. If I spoke of what was really in my head I would probably being lying in a ditch half way dead. We all have vices in life, but mine is I cant seem to get anything right. Whether it a simple letter or call back it seems to just stack up. I try as hard as I can to be that man, but the lord knows I am only one soul. Far from perfect and apparently in the wrong… it is times like this I appreciate my mom, because she tried her best to raise a good son.