I am sadly not writing on this site anymore because all of my new poems including the called My Chosen Family will be on what is called Kindle Vella and also because I am now a published writer. All of my poems that are on here will stay on here for the rest of time. I will keep on reading the poems that everyone else writes as well as be available via messaging on this site.

Perched on the plank seat
of the old wagon
the dusty man gently jiggles the reins
of his reliable old steeds,
they as resolved as he
to reach Archer City
to get booked up.

Larry was there with his white hair
whittling his latest creation,
an overweight manuscript
sure to cause a sensation
no matter its heft.

They sat together talking
til the fireflies flew,
shared stories of books
loves, and good bass hooks,
reaching down to fetch a fresh brew
when they got parched
which was frequent
as they spoke at length
of men like Woodrow and Gus,
how they cussed,
poked, and stretched yarn after yarn.

Larry’s gone to the barn
but the guy who pulled up
in that old wagon
still is reading
and yet yearns
to revisit Texas lakes
to fish bass,
visit the local café,
and eat a passel of pancakes
or a big, tasty chicken fried steak.

It's difficult to describe,
as if something your eyes
have never seen yet you
struggle to put iit into words.
It's like being melted into
one another, in the middle of the horizon’s beautiful swirling colors.

Time flies at ultrasonic speeds
  spent happily.
Each other putting their own
happiness and needs above
  their own, for their soulmate and yet it's not a sacrifice:
It makes you happy to be compelled
  in such a way.
There's no competition, you're as if
  one, and that makes a hell of a team
There's no fear in this true love.

It always adds to one’s life; it never “takes away” or brings pain or unhappiness. It is not one sided
nor can it ever be “lost”; hence, True Love is everlasting (just like it is in romance novels and fairy tales).
~Author Ven J Arnold

To be haunted
By voices of people
I have known,
But will never meet;

To be drawn
Into worlds
I have explored,
But will never see;

The sheer emotion of reading,
Magnifies and withers across each page;
With ink tearing into our hearts,
Leaving us yearning at each epilogue...

You can write me down in our history books,
Say that I am a star, Say that I am a ****,
Some treated me good, an left an impression,
Most treated me like dirt, but yet I am just a introvert,
content with my thoughts and not reality dashboard,
Am thankful for everything that happens,
It's just on simple decision,
to be happy with what I have,
Not for what I desire,
What I should Look like,
What I should be doing,
If the whole world is against it,
Take my head, put on the tower, on the spike,
so the whole human race can see the delusions,
That I once had in life,
No children, no husband nor wife,
just dreams and desires,
nothing that God's or power requires,
but I guess that you cannot be free,
to have your own opinion,
see the whole world truths,
when we all want to be,
Little pretty liars,
just waiting for our lives to expire,
I don't care for religions,
But am pagan at heart,
No training to believe,
just stick to training pigeons,
Happy, looking at Mother Nature Art,
that we are a part of destroying,
making up fairy tail stories,
I hate my own kind, Blackheart,
But bury that lonely mouse,
found in the forest,
with a prayer to Mother,
to let his little spirit,
roam free for eternity,
Let this little body, decompose,
and feed the land, feed the rose,
Prayers to Cernunnos,
the Protector of the Forest,
Protector of all thing nature,

Oh Cernunnos, forgive humanity,
They have lost they way of nature,
though creating power and legislatures,
So don't be angry with all of us,
some of us still love you as our deity,
of nature and all things wild,
Take and care for the spirit of a child,
who died, they passed in undefiled,
They are innocent, don't exile,
Exile those who chose the path that reconciled,
Hear the ones who are true to the land,
True to the animals and true to elements,
Hear our wolf kid howls,
We are the true light child, the one moon child,

You can write me down in our history books,
Cause of the styles I chose, because of my looks,
Hell or Heaven, Exile or Free,
Don't class me, I was never one of those crooks.