Most call me Tyler.
My writing stems from personal experiences, and an ever-evolving outlook on the world.
I am a musician, art enthusiast, writer, and at times the definition of controversy.
Tread lightly in the world that my words create. Otherwise, you might find yourself in a place you
never thought you could understand, nor would ever want to. more »
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Tyler Cooley Poems
One final look at your reflection An image blurred, what can you see? A ripple barely breaks the surface Your life a stone cast to the stream
Any Other Way
Try not to think too hard now Don't let the past come to the front In the end it's what you wanted The same desire in different font
She was the one all the world seemed to know Seemingly perfect, no flaws she could show Dressed in the finest, combed cotton or silk None could imagine this flower might wilt
Conscience seems a fable To everyone who looks upon This man, for years unable To give the truth an honest run
Searching for a better reason Why she's coming as you're leaving With a hollow heart you're watching As all care goes with the seasons
The mother dressed in white Her wrappings carried through the night This weight upon the world Imperfection far from sight
Is anything real? Are we truly alive? Is free an expression? Just a thought in our minds?
The Fallen King
This is the beginning The beginning of an end Upon a concrete throne Foundations built on sins
We might walk, we might run, Or just stay where we are And speak of our dreams, How we'll make it so far
Comments about Tyler Cooley
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
One final look at your reflection
An image blurred, what can you see?
A ripple barely breaks the surface
Your life a stone cast to the stream
When could you ever matter?
Like the stone, your mark is small
What could you ever offer?
Where's the meaning in it all?
Stand before a raging river
Try to see where it begins
Then take a look a little closer
You just might see where you fit in
We're all just ripples in the waters
Each so meaningless and weak
Yet when the ripples come together
We finally find the strength to speak