Hell
Like the clack of the track
The rhythm goes on and on
The rail runs cold into the black
Away into a sunset for all
The clouds are white, turning black
All fear thrives along with our sins
Pushing away it's just a fact
They come back haunting over and over again
Four best words, just an excuse
The reasons dwell pure under my realm
For just a pleasure people I reduce
Clouds my eyes in a film
The whistle blows cold to the air
The train shudders, decreases, and stops
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poem by Midnights Voice
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Loves Dances
Love dances in the flames of fire
White hot and blue with lust
To orange and green with jealousy
Dancing ferociously onto itself a dust
Love is consumation
Where there is such great replete
Love is implanation
Unicostate unto each and ever the heart's beat
Love comes with no doubt
There being no recourse
Love is impeachable
It sets all our hearts free without any and all remorse
Love is the sustenance
Hoarded in the hearts of soul
When winter's life is at it's darkest
Love comes to warm us all.
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poem by Midnights Voice
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I Had A Box of Poems
I had a box of poems
It must have been a thousand strong
Written by me to me
It was all my sincerity
Over an age of thirty strong
It contained my verse of right and wrong
Then there was this great, a rift
And adamant, divorce she insist
I packed my things, I was gone
No place to be but in my song
For safe keeping, I knew I could trust
Left my box that spilled my guts
Like an orphanage, they, my children safe
Until I could collect them, another place
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poem by Midnights Voice
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When I Die Burry Me In A Poem
When I die burry me in a poem
I am six fot six so make my poem
Seven foot long
Make it from rich azure tales of Arabian nights
Make the walls strong to ptotect
My remains from a Poe's delight
Rest my head on a pillow of silken vowels
Line the walls with chiffon and wolfen howls
Place inside the words of my poems
Lest I be presumptous, under my tongue, a copper coin
Lest they forget, leave tbe calendar of my last living date
So all can ponder how fragile life is, Death a certain fate
Finally, bury me six syllables deep
I pray, that my poems, for them to keep
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poem by Midnights Voice
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Book Of Black Holes
You be on yourside
I'll be on my side
In between there is a book
the book of Black Holes
You sling your arrows
I'll dodge the harrows
And then I'll record it
In the book of Black Holes
There be many pages
that goes through many stages
In the end you may find it
In the book of Black Holes
If it's a five or ten
Even a zero I win
And I have recorded it
In the book of Black Holes
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poem by Midnights Voice
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All the Answers Why
Only the answers why
As I gaze at an evening crescent
Only between the sighs
As blood flows, porous, effervescent
So it was this time due
Ripped the scars vertically
For all these feelings...you're
Taken into nothing totally
Yes in my heart I bleed
Day, tomorrow, in eternity
Falling the crescent seed
By night dark within paternity
One hundred and one stitch
Reside to mend this remake fantasy
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poem by Midnights Voice
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Literato
Reason was left out
shivering in the cold
And a can of daylight was opened
and left unused on the counter
A container of afterthoughts
lay spilled on the coffee table
Newspaper sandwiches, dictionary bread
and commentary juice
were brought out on a tray
And we nibbled on bits of conversation
and politely left some verbs
and vowels on each napkin,
lest the host think we were crude
I crossed my leg and left my
participles dangling,
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poem by Midnights Voice
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The Days That Matter
In the past it was,
'What mattered the most.'
Everything was, 'a matter of fact.'
And I didn't, unless;
'It was a matter of comon sense.'
Handled of course
'In a succinct matter discretely.'
Now as the rays of the sun
Race away behind the clouds
As the shadows grow deeper
Across my days
And the west of my life
Glows gold and blue fades to gray
I'm left with this hollow feeling
whispering in my ear
Hissing asking; 'What really matters? '
And as I watch the last grains
Of a handfull of sand
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poem by Midnights Voice
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December 24th Eve
This tiredness,
Sickness,
A draining away,
Such as a tide might
Suck at a bay.
There is evil in there soul
A blackness where nothing,
only wither, can grow.
Murder is murder
A thug on a street
A soldier with a gun
A President's decree,
Declaration,
And dead is dead.
Are we made in the image of God?
God's flood drowned all
A pillar of fire destroyed all
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poem by Midnights Voice
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Lost and Ready to Cave In
Poem.com all the words gone
Merrian and Webster
could'nt help a-tall
The words were just walked away
and now I felt a crack
in foundations hall
There was no reason in it's rhyme
A senseless killing
A latter day bosnia
Line by line
word by word
down to the smallest letter
A shudder, another crack
Watch my foundation's back
As black papered coffins
burried beneath smooth headstones
just in ashes deep
in all our fears
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poem by Midnights Voice
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