Lonely words

Depression is a lonely word
entwined in solitude
all alone is all by myself
with no one there to lose.

poem by Mike poet
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Tad pole

If a Tad pole
will one day be a frog
then is Tad adjective or noun
and whats a Poly wog.

Love those 4 liners. If I write enough of em then sometimes they go togather.

poem by Mike poet
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Cotton cany kisses

Mixed in taste
is a touch of Peach Brandy
and kisses flavored
like cotton candy
with panoramic views
in luminescent hues
from atop a Ferris Wheel.

Calliopes made
the Monkeys dance
while Pipers played
and Poodles pranced
pleasured feelings grew
which upon I drew
this goodness I did feel

poem by Mike poet
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A Dark Star for poets

A tribute to Dark Star

There I see a Dark Star
It gleams dulled yet bright.
It twinkles of dancing shadows
written in candlelight.

Sometimes it shines morbidity
a self-inflicting bloodied knife.
With manic inclined lucidity,
describing a poet's life.

Transient an-hedonistic thoughts
On currents of a transilient breeze.
As Demons are beckoning darkness
Thus inflicting mental disease.

I seek this Dark Star to bare as I share
my minds quest for its sanity.
For all that is dark is not evil

[...] Read more

poem by Mike poet
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Mystic warrior

One man crawls to the gate
screams in rage of his fate.
Village seeks vengeance
with razered steel.

Rolling madness
on spiked wheels.
Dead warriors carried
home on shields.

One lone warrior lance held high
old mans wisdom young mans eyes
Mystic warrior courage abides
just his presence gives others pride

Mother told him brave son
but she knew he'd never run
Honer glory conquest done
love of battle bloodshed begun

[...] Read more

poem by Mike poet
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From the Diary of a Mimes

At my grandmothers house, you will see a hundred years of family portraits. We are a family of mimes. The portraits are of mimes.
You may ask why would someone wish to be a mime? For it is a limited existence beings that a mime s a simile of a single frame photograph. Look at the pictures at grandmothers house, do you feel the pain? This is my pain.
Becoming a mime.
I was six or seven years old. Grandmother and I were sitting in her living room, I had slept over at her house for a weekend while mom, dad and little brother tend to other things. Grandmother was in an odd mood today. She looked at her pictures and smiled some. And cried a little." I think its time you wore your mime face." She said. Today you will learn how to become a mime." So I said" Yes madman she proceeded to make up my face.
As she put on my makeup she started to cry. She cried for a long time. I was a little girl I started crying as well. I could not watch my grandmother cry without shedding tears of my own. So we sat and cried.
'Why are we crying' I asked? 'Well dear, sometimes life deals you a hard enough blow that even a mime will cry." I said 'Ok.'I was soon to find out what she meant. This is the day I learned a safe place for a heart to be. I learned that a person could freeze emotions and save them for future use. Yes place them in a jar, to be opened at an appropriate time. For that is what I do. You see I write a sad story, open a jar of tears and cry for a minute.
So after a good cry, grandmother took my hand and led me to the foyer wondered why I had to wear my mime face. Well grandmother had hers on, so I thought it must be a family thing, and I did not question. We sat under the foyer, was hot.New Orleans is a hot place at certain times of the year. There was no breeze, was still as could be. Nothing moved, except perhaps the webs a few lucky spiders, the ones who had prey to close in on.
'God bless mother nature, child. Its infinite wisdom, allows all creatures sustenance 'Uhh grandmother, that is a spider. Kill it, mom does.''No." She says, this is his house. If he were in mine, then I would kill him, but he lives here and kills insects.'
'You say he" I asked." How do you know it is a male spider? " She sighs." I do not know.' So I ask." Then why do you say it is a male? " It is taken for granted that any unknown sex is referred to as he. God is male." I answer" God could be a woman. I do not think anyone knows Gods sex grandmother. The world would be better if God was a female.''Perhaps so child." She answers, " Perhaps so.'
'Your father used to say that when he was your age. Always a philosophy with him." And her eye tiered up again. But I saw her turn to ice of a sudden. The tears dried. Then a long white car pulled up in the driveway, grandmother took my hand and we walked to the car. A man in a grey uniform opened the door and we sat inside. 'I will remember every detail of this day. For this is where my life changed.'
The car drove us to a big fancy building, it was full of mimes dressed in black. Even as a child I realized that something was wrong, so many mimes, all crying and made up in misery faces. I wondered why. They all parted as grandmother and I entered the building.
It was an odd place. Sad sounding music reminded me of harmonies of sorrow, organs and moans and tears. There were 3 pretty boxes in the center of the room. People were all around, most of them mimes, most were crying. 'Grand mother, what is in the boxes? 'I asked." Why do all the mimes look into them and cry? ''Never mind my child. Just be a mime.'
'Well if my daddy was here he would pick me up and I could see what was in the boxes." My grandmother looked down at me and started to cry, and the tears flowed." Brace yourself girl." She said. Then she picked me up. Eagerly I looked over the side of the box. In it was the reason I became a mime. I saw my fathers body made up to be a mime laying with his hands together as if he were praying. My brother and mother the same in other boxes. I knew they had passed away.
It was hard on a little girl, to have it etched into her mind.I kicked and screamed till grandmother set me on my feet. I ran out of the room and never spoke another word until this day.

I do not like this one much.

poem by Mike poet
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