Thursdays

Teal beanie. Red bow.

Red hair. Black hair.

Green eyes. Hazel eyes.

Blue shirt. Red sweater.

Silver watch. Black wristband.

Titanium ring. Silver ring.

Black skinneys. Army leggings.

Black Feiyues. Spiked boots.

Completed heart.

I know iv been gone for months, but my first post back will be a story...  I hope you enjoy this excerpt from one of my dreams...        

  "I'll walk you to your room", I said.  Sure, it was only up the stairs and into the hallway of her house, but I wanted to be a gentleman.  I also wanted to spend every possible second I could with her.  Her mother, who had answered the door mumbled something to us about not touching each other as she walked into the kitchen, probably back to fixing that evening's dinner.  I led my love up the stairs, trying to savour every second of her hand around my arm.  As soon as we rounded the hallway corner, she turned and flung herself into my arms and held me tightly.  Almost automatically, I bagan kissing her face frantically, as if she could disappear at any moment.  I needed as much of her as I could get.  She ran her fingers through my hair and dragged them over the shaved side of my head hidden by my beanie.  That was her.  She loved every part of me, and everything about me.  No matter what I did or what I looked like, she loved me always more and never less.  I paused, my gaze magnetized to her hazel eyes.  They say the eyes are windows to the soul.  In that moment, time stood still and I could see every detail in each fiber of colour.  The more I looked at the intricacy before me, the more I understood the meaning of love.  Real, true, innocent, pure love.  I was sucked back into reality by the voice of her mother yelling "is he kissing you?"  My eyes traced her long, black hair down to her fingers and whispered, "Not anymore."  She placed her hands in mine and yelled back, "No, it's my hand."  Holding her hands I held the world.  My world.  My beautiful, perfect world.  Tears neared my eyes as I brought her hand up to my mouth to kiss my most precious possession.  Without thinking, I made for her lips.  She quickly slipped her hand between us and stared at me.  Her eyes speaking in our own language saying, "Wait.  We promised we would wait, and we need to hold to that."  I kissed her forehead in thanks.  She was, in many ways, more mature than I.  She returned the gesture upon my cheek.  I could clearly feel the warmth from her lips emanating with trust.  After another kiss, she escorted me back to the door.  We stood another few minutes on the porch, staring into each other's eyes.  We seemed frozen, like two stones in the middle of a stream.  And for the first time, as the wind glazed her eyes and blew a few locks of black hair across her face, I could not read her.  No emotion, yet every emotion.  No feeling, yet every feeling.  Happiness? sadness? anger? No.  Love.  Abstract, matricized, ambiguous love for me. And that was the extent of what I could see on her face...  She broke our stillness by reaching for my hand.  Her mouth played an optimistic smirk as she threaded her fingers between mine.  With her heart in my hands, and my hand holding hers, we walked down the street and into our future.

"In The Most Innocent Manner"

We live in an age of roles reversed,

Where beauty and flaunting are swapped.

We take an image, make it perversed,

Then cringe when anything is said or seen.

We live in an day of censored loveliness,

Melting innocence into the stream of mud.

Even the most pure is taken as ugliness,

And we gasp when something is seen or said.

We live in a time of mistaken words

A compliment means merely that!

Not a hint at fantasized thoughts.

Yet we believe so when things are seen or said.

We live in a cloud of misunderstanding,

Of logic contorted and out the window.

Can't we just think like rational men?

But we don't when anything is said or seen.

"Hey, you!"

Hey, you, yess you!  You like what you see?

Then keep on reading, or even follow me!

I'd really appreciate your taking the time,

To give your thanks for my thoughtful rhymes.

Many could say that this poem is thin,

But here I ill tell th meaning within.

Comment on this post, or give me a plus,

Or share this with friends, you have to! You must!

In short, what I'm saying, is give some feed,

It's greatly encouraging to know you read me!

(Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed my poetry thus far)

"From the Desparate"

Can you go away?

Leave me where I am.

You too.

Both of you leave me alone,

I don't want to be near either of you!

You have no idea what you are doing, 

You are going to mess up my life!

You are messing with my future,

Our Future!

Forget both of you.

Just go away and deplete someone else of their hope!

Don't just walk towards me and steal my life away from me!

(Such an innocent outpouring of emotion, put perfectly by my dear friend;

 my deepest sympathies and prayers for him.)

(The wording has been altered at the request of the readers.)

"Pepsi"

I never understood non-passionate people,

Never did I register with the seemingly insensitive.

How could a person be so complacent,

With the ordinary continue to live?

What is life without the passion?
Routine dullness, never truly seeing,

It is nothing.

Never truly thinking or feeling.

Emotion is beauty, and inversely tell.

Former stating latter, and second evoking first.

"Alexandra's Spectre"

In between a place of love, and its corresponding loci,

Lies the greatest tale of turmoil and tarnished lull.

One life given, another taken, and one to come from two,

Voluntarily sacrificing dreams for Udinov.

Every aspiration of a current future, stunted at its source.

Yet, a glimpse of paradise but a breath away.

Only a few experiences of forever do,

Underestimate the emotion felt the whole way thru.

A falling soul, with nothing to grab,

Letting go of the need to prepare the slate.

Eternity written on comfort's back,

Xenium are given with the story's relay.

Internal distress during the taxi,

Many would only serve in dram.

"I really hope you know I'm sorri"

Says the heart who caused the "mess".

Soon, however, the death will pass,

Youthful ambitions will have their way.

Only the purest love will do,

Ultimate passion to then ensu.