Mike poet

I find my peace a good Woman at my side
living is forgiving progress is pride.
Change reanges she over looks my strangnes
all goes away naked warmth where I lie..
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A tribute to Dark Star

There I see a Dark Star
It gleams dulled yet bright.
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As sharp as a tack.
Like a slap in the face.
Do you know the kind
tongue blind
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I see my sleeping angel
she tastes as sweet as velvet cake,
so here I sit in silence
as I long for her awake.
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To love Lawanda I'll be my best.
Thick and thin beginning to end this love will show the rest.
Realization an observation ill words I want to be free
Standing in the kitchen I just stopped bitchin
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Hey little girl, all alone in the world
Are you ready for your first love and the pain?
When the hurt is over you may not ever
want to love anyone again.
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How for two manly men to exist in the same place
is a question from the beginning of the Human race.
Down to the bone all testasterone where battle scarred is grace
would rather fight beside you than us be in each others face.
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Looming in the distance
ominous yet bright
is blooming an existence
where wicked need be slight.
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Contiguous ramblings of insanity
as seen in computer lounge everyday.
Mixed with lucid moments of humanity
philosophies gleam with attention paid.
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Love can be beautiful,
when tastes of sweat memory.
When it ends untarnished
pleasant thoughts there will always be.
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Teardrops fall one by one
each tells a story of pain.
You do not know what to do
love has left you again.
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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.
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To be a Swan

As Carroll arrived at the Theatre her chest was tight. She had come to see a
Ballet which was written and to be preformed by a childhood friend she had once danced beside. The Eyes in front of her reflected young love as he opened the door for his Lady Friend and Carroll wheeled in behind her. She finds herself a place at the end of an Isle and locks her brakes.
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Flock of dead sheep

There's a flock of dead sheep
still where they lay.
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