Leaking Pen Poems

Am I too serious a poet?
To smoke pot or not
Once in a while I let go
Of my imaginary foe
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I see its signs
Nearby and far
When life is in decline
Death becomes the star.
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In an instance, from a distance
Eyes of my heart saw a beautiful shadow
And surrendered its keys
Although my mind hesitated…
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I am my memory
It is my history
It is who I am
A soulful man.
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Orgasm:

Oh my, oh my, how to start this poetic journey…
Regarding orgasm when channeling chose my poem’s title
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Give me a loving heart in-kind
and take away every other mind
new love my butterfly in flight
old fears kill a promising light.
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I do not care to travel to the Promised Land
Where continuing fighting goes on for its sand,
And prejudice for being God’s chosen is not my type
Nor its man made nurseries, forcing tomatoes to ripe.
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Once upon a time love and peace ruled my heady brew,
And innocence did not need a teleprompter cue.
News from the front line have not been good
From present day moviemakers in Hollywood
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Headache is Man
Because Man can
Loosen the tongue
Morals die young.
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I wish I can hide inside a poetic bubble
to avoid each time double the trouble
My poetic mind from doubts stumbles,
and my heart from uncertainties crumbles.
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