Poems about simply

Little words
With big meanings
Shared over coffee
And toast

Beginning the day
With sunshine, love
And ginger lime butter

It is the simple things
It is... the simple things
I love...

I've chosen my poison.
My vice and my reason.
I'll take full advantage of what I've been given.
What I've created, whats been imbedded.
The sensation of something that simply must happen.
Only simple for the sake of complexity
A coping mechanism,
A way of escaping.
What's real,
What's not,
Dialogue,
Abstract thought.
All mine for the taking,
Yours for interpretation.

As I,
Exhale slowly,
And inhale through the silence.
Under welcome mats,
(For lack of better hiding places. )
Found squeezed held and deflated.
Mastering the language of anticipating.
Anything to get out,
Let the consciousness spin,
Stir the sensations,
Make you feel anything.

A pulse,
A beat,
A note,
Anything.

In our sense of security.

Fin.

... You are the most complex, interlaced multidimensional beauty I have ever encountered...

Plants, and books, and dog cat bird.
Janis singing on the speakers, have you heard?
Smoke in the air, joint on the table.
Try to write, will I be able?
Wood couch, wood floors, Nag champa burning.
You're gone at work, and my heart is yearning.
Cobain, and Lennon stare from the wall.
Its already gotten so cold this fall.
Pumpkin on the porch, Dream catcher on the door.
You know I always love you more.

What is emotion?
It's but a notion
Of an expression on the inside
Shown to the world outside,
My emotions run deep
But bottled up I can't keep
Those you stir within me,
And for everyone to see
Because words are not enough,
To express them without feeling is tough
And when the syllables run out,
I just want to hold you and tell you all about
The thoughts I have of us and the future
And that to you may seem cute; sure,
But there is only so much I wouldn't do
Just for a minute without the world; just you,
And I'd cherish those few precious moments
In my heart even if in my mind they're torments;
But if you ask me if I'm getting emotional; simply—
All I can say is; I'm all emotion baby...
© okpoet

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Upon a hill

And I saw the universe smile at me

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Me and my love

I wonder when she'll be comin back this way

My wife would like to see here
As would the kids

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Upon the hill

I smile all the way to 42d street

( ah LOOK! There she is )

--
Maybe I'll be headin there again

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As a young man I tilled the soil

Soft the furrows made for the seed

Eyes and hands becoming so gentle

After bold toil had given them strength

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KINDNESS

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Winds are cool
Water! -- pure and sweet

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Now the whole world needs attending

Say!

Why don't ya come and work with me

And all the children who are here

Time to set ALL stories free

Free from the harsh winds swirling round

I am made of coffee and cigarettes
Empty and serene
Standing on street corners
Clutching coffee stained pages
Of dull, beautiful poetry

I am the girl at the back of the bus
Staring out the window as
Thick trees spin back
Wishing i could be them
Spin back and change the past

I am lost in a world that is webbed
With spotty blackness
Burning across my vision
It is dull and grey

I run until my muscles throb
And let fat come back up
My raw black throat
And when i arise
The darkness sets in again
But i must not collapse

I don't want to eat, i need to starve
I don't want to be, i need to stop
I don't want-
It doesn't matter what i want
What i need, what i feel

Because i am empty and dark and sad
And i do not matter

You have not read my story.
You don't know my vocabulary.
You don't know the boundaries of my spine.
And you sure as hell don't know the story in these pages.
Don't act like I am simply a definition.
That my worth is in one word.
I am an entire fucking book.
Don't pretend I am a dictionary.
That I simply contain information.
No,
I make you feel welcomed.
I can take you away
I can make you feel the pain that you've never felt.
I can make you feel the happiness you've once felt.
My story can take you away.
So, no.
I am not simply a word.
Don't try to describe me as it.
Because if you do;
Don't forget who writes my story.
I can make you what I want in it.