and you
you standing there like the goddess
Aphrodite of Knidos
drawing the softest curves amidst lines that make my heart yearn
for even she
murmured

'where thou saw me naked?'

you rest
effortless
making man fall between your marble curves
a beauty holding centuries of thought and attempts to simply possess

you stand

free against the attempts of man
their meddling fingers so often confusing the way your hips dipped and your ******* crest

shattering all ideas of beauty in the way you smiled at me
between whispers of curtains

and idolatry

Where do these words come from?
Are they from my heart or my brain?
Do the flow forth from some great vault hidden away in my soul,
Or are they plucked freely from the wind?

Where is it that our inspiration comes from,
From the world around us,
Or from within?
Can our natures influence the world around us,
Or is it that nature that influences us?

Words are ****** to a poet
When we run out it makes our blood shiver
Our hands tremble and our lips tremor
A muse becomes an addiction
I miss the high of loving you
I crave the way you made me feel
The cravings dig a hole inside me
Allowing the emptiness to win
It's like my bones are bleeding and my veins are freezing
As I sit with a pen in hand and a paper made of sand

I wish that emotions captured in a sentence or two
Could chase away the withdrawal of being away from you

2023, timemindspace
in the future, my attention
is the cost,
I imagine I love what I am being,
a riverwise mathematical being, seeing
my self realization occur
on the existing internet, according to plan,
according to the web trafficked clear text codes

Wee'll see, now, this is me editing me,
with intention, I wish to focus
home fires, village commons,

re-aquainting me, with my dreams. Simple as pi.

Undulatus Asperatus one day,
Altocumulus the next,
yes, we all have
seen clouds from both sides now,

with no mountains to climb,
nor wings or wind to lift us,

we stop calling now unbelievable.
Believe me,
one lief left to relieve your self, a tip
to insure proper
service.

Think, softly, so no sign, no tell tells
the rule of law, chances are, chaos is not evil.

my feelings are the splattered inks
bold, italics
threatening to spill
weighing on every meaning
words could carry
scrambled up, juggled
those who’ve yet to feel
shall not speak
and pray tell, words
do you realize what you amount to?
what’s behind was for a reason, a person
clear as day, solid reverie
what lies beneath shan’t remain between the lines
and if it reaches you, we’re alike