Silent sea air.
 
            
                
                    chadwick                
                
                    up my ass Posts: 21,157                
            
                        
            
                    As the moon falls across our shoulders
she offers me the ocean and places it slowly into my mouth.
All her wishes swirl overhead colliding inside with my own.
Peaceful waves consume our slow walk
like liquid butterfly wings draping over a garden of stone.
She has a way about herself that outshines the happiest of stars
and outruns the fastest of light.
Pure and simple never escape my mind.
But as she smiles her face gives little seabirds flight and the sky opens up
with the great freedoms of joy and song.
Carefree tumbling clouds twirl my head around as time stops.
She’s just walking barefoot in the sand collecting rocks.
                she offers me the ocean and places it slowly into my mouth.
All her wishes swirl overhead colliding inside with my own.
Peaceful waves consume our slow walk
like liquid butterfly wings draping over a garden of stone.
She has a way about herself that outshines the happiest of stars
and outruns the fastest of light.
Pure and simple never escape my mind.
But as she smiles her face gives little seabirds flight and the sky opens up
with the great freedoms of joy and song.
Carefree tumbling clouds twirl my head around as time stops.
She’s just walking barefoot in the sand collecting rocks.
for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7
"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."
Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."
Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
Post edited by Unknown User on 
0
            Comments
- 
            hartamh wrote:Very Nice!!
 thank you hart.
 thank you very much.
 i have had a bit of writers block lately but
 i have been able to pull off a couple decent
 poems in the last few weeks.
 hopefully my creative juices kick back in soon.
 nothing worse for me than not being able to write something.
 it feels dead and fucked up being lost inside my own self unable to write what i feel.
 torture.
 thanks again.for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7
 "Hear me, my chiefs!
 I am tired; my heart is
 sick and sad. From where
 the sun stands I will fight
 no more forever."
 Chief Joseph - Nez Perce0
- 
            hartamh wrote:Your welcome,
 It's sort of the opposite with me, there is so much I could write about, but can't put the right words together in order to describe them.
 BTW my name is Ann Marie ~ nice to meet you:)
 hello Ann Marie.
 i'm chad.
 i've seen you around a bit.
 pleased to meet you.
 maybe you might wanna try it sometime.
 sit down and see what happens.
 people say it helps heal.
 it doesn't heal me.
 it keeps me alive.
 believe me i am a writing train wreck, it will kill me one day.
 i need to broaden my horizons and start seriously writing
 the stories that are growing in my mind.
 to much stuff (that's quite a large load ) for one fucker to handle.                        for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7 ) for one fucker to handle.                        for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7
 "Hear me, my chiefs!
 I am tired; my heart is
 sick and sad. From where
 the sun stands I will fight
 no more forever."
 Chief Joseph - Nez Perce0
- 
            chadwick wrote:As the moon falls across our shoulders
 she offers me the ocean and places it slowly into my mouth.
 All her wishes swirl overhead colliding inside with my own.
 Peaceful waves consume our slow walk
 like liquid butterfly wings draping over a garden of stone.
 She has a way about herself that outshines the happiest of stars
 and outruns the fastest of light.
 Pure and simple never escape my mind.
 But as she smiles her face gives little seabirds flight and the sky opens up
 with the great freedoms of joy and song.
 Carefree tumbling clouds twirl my head around as time stops.
 She’s just walking barefoot in the sand collecting rocks.
 I hope this poem is in your book  
 Wish you were here...
 ♥~RIP Dad0
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