Mike poet Poems

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.
...

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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Jonas stepped into the twilit sky more than just a little inebriated. The thought crossed his mind that he should have stopped about 10 mugs back, but it was good ale. So through a slightly foggy haze he set out to find a place to sleep.
At the bar he had heard of an Inn on main street at the East end of town so he headed towards it through the alley along side the Tavern.
Beings it was past midnight and the Moon was across its zenith dark obfuscate images aroused his awareness. After walking perhaps 50 steps while keeping close watch along the walls, he saw two figures clad in the colors of night he knew there would be trouble.
The ale had made him just careless enough to speak and alert them that he knew of their presence. ' Ho there, what are you doing lurking in the shadows? Me thinks you might be cutthroats and if you come near me I'll likely stick a knife in your ribs.'
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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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Pure self feeds
deadly sins lure you in
wants becoming needs
pointy chin with a wicked grin
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Hey little Princess where have you been.
Did you wish upon a Star or listen to the wind.
Come whisper in the ear of a new found Friend
the dreams you've dreamed again and again.
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Like wick to flame


Candle light it flickers,
...