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Poetry Book no I – ACT I

Author | Audiobook narrator | Singer

 

Poetry Book no. I written in white bold lettering with blue butterflies and spiders on cowebs around it.

Finally, after so many years of dreaming… You know, the kind when you lay in bed just imagining, making up worlds and places I can say that I do have a poetry book.

Poetry Book no. I ACT II

In the Beginning

In the dim flickering light

Of the oil lamp on my bedside table

I am,

Drunken on wine

Thoughts about him

Which intoxicates me more

I can not tell

But I grip onto a quill,

As if,

Writing poetry about him…

Was my only savior

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a Fire Was Lit in Her Heart

And I wish,

That my poetry was a flammable fluid

With words spilling from my fingertips

The smell of petroleum

The light of a match

Set his world

On fire.

and She Feared Him Fading

So, 

Today,

I wrote a poem

Crippled by my fear,

That he will fade

Into the cruel passing of time

Forgotten,

Lost.

Like my admiration

Rotting,

Ten feet under

So She Wrote a Poem

So, can you see now…

That I have lost my mind?

The sea of emotion has swallowed me whole

And oh sweet mother of mine

Can you tell?

Your daughter,

Doesn’t want to emerge

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Mother, Look at Her

His eyes.

If that was not poetry.

Written in two words…

I.

Don’t.

Do.

POETRY.

With a Prayer on Her Lips

Here I lay,

In the darkness of my room

Praying to all the Gods that I know…

That someday,

Somewhere,

Someway

We can meet each other…

And have conversations,

Drunken on wine

Her Lust Arose

And maybe,

We could…

Share a kiss,

Or two

Let our worlds,

Align

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Dearest Mother, She Is Going To See Him

Dearest mother,

Today I did my face

Subtly,

And garishly

My cheeks the colour of peonies

And my face pale from fear

My eyes swollen from the arsenic…

I haven’t slept in days

Petrified, Avoiding His Eyes

So,

I stood there…

My garments drenched

Just like when I was a child,

Standing barefoot in our garden

With rain falling down my skin

Waiting

Deluged by poetry untold

Choking on words

I could not make rhyme

With Belladonna in Hers

Like a maiden in love,

With my eyes glistening

In the lights above my head

As if he was the belladonna to my pupils

I was a deer caught in headlights…

And he was

The definition

Of poetry

Thank You for your time, my audiobooks are available on Spotify, iTunes, YouTube and more.

Links To My Work

Poetry: Dragon of Alcanmore, Poetry of a Love So Cold.

Stories: Six-Sentence Stories, Short Stories, Romance and All That, Elves and Fantasy

Posts on music that I love are here.

I am on YouTube where I also have created lyric videos.

Here is my Spotify 

My band can be listened to on YouTubeSpotify and other streaming services.

Follow me on my YouTube Channel for Audiobooks.

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Trackbacks/Pingbacks

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