The mind is amusing,
dark shadows will fall
The misty rain drizzling
will answer it’s call
The call of delusion
the thrill of a squall
Storms are now raging
inside of us all
We seek a sound answer
a sign for us all
The government trembles
down at town hall
Reflecting the tenor
of those wanting to brawl
There’s no peace among us
we’re foolish and small
Goodbye to our yesterdays
they’ll vanish by fall
If sin was enticing
we’ve answered its call
Banished and exiled,

I put the kids to sleep
just in time
for the first tear to fall

They said goldfish can grant you three wishes
But I'd only choose one
Maybe if that wish came true
You would spend time with me
Getting to know
The deaphts of my soul
My poetic being ,
My love for art that is created by words,
Remembering my favourite colour
And see everything in that hue,
The way I smile happily
Whenever I feel delighted,
Comforting me with a hug
Everytime I feel sorrowful,
If it doesn't come true
I might as well drown in the ocean
Or was it your eyes?

Breathe in
And out
Do whatever it
Takes

Jump out of bed
Trip over my phone charger
Crash to the floor

Find my phone
Trying to call for help
Is there somebody there
Or am I a one-man army?

Fear at it again
Check my heart rate
Faster than a bullet train

Crawl to the couch
As I hear, "Are you okay?"
Slowly stand to my feet
The room steadies, no longer
A magic carpet ride

Looking through eyes
that shimmer like crystal.
Dancing through nights
under the moon.
You call to your love
your fire like a pistol.
She follows you home
to passionately swoon.
Engaged in embrace
you follow her gestures.
Grappling boldly
you offer her proof.
Finally succumbing
love ends with the rapture.
Resulting in paradox
that all ends too soon.

gamesome, chucklesome, bothersome,
and awesome modest fellow)...
does not deliberately court immortalization,
and wonders what criteria confer elevation,
exaltation, glorification, hero worship,
idolization, veneration, or worship.

I go about a daily humdrum routine
me, a twenty first century baby boomer,
who considers himself passé
and senses with sensibility
he would have been more at home
during the early nineteen hundreds.

Come, grab a chair
Sit next to me
How are you?

Share the secrets
You whisper to silence
Open the vault
Of your soul

You are not a coward
Rather, a gladiator
That takes on
Whatever life
Throws at you

You walk into hurricanes
For those you love,
I dare ask what
Would you do for you

Do you eat the insults
As you digest the rejection
Without a complaint

I beg you to
Stop attacking
The man you are

All this feeling?

I long for silence
But,I hate it-
When it's from you.

Where do I put
My heart?
It beats too much.
Like, it's fighting.

But, when it crashes-
Against me,
For you;----
I drown in the pain.
Loving it.
Hating it.

Calm down little heart;--
He is on the way

Calm down little soul;---
Pain is better than oblivion

Forgetting it all
Would be daunting
Thinking of you oblivating
All those memories
That are deeply interwoven
With all the parts of my soul and being
Clinging to me like an eerie shadow
That will never escape me
Would slowly steal
The last beat
Of my enchanted heart

She was a dancer
on dark paved streets,
she had vibrations in her soul
always music in her head.

Could not keep still,
her bare feet ever
tapping out the rhythm
of a distant melody.

Each day saw changes
on her preferred stage,
trash cans overflow
garbage in the streets.

Alarmed, a child pointed out;
"Look, Mom she's bleeding!"
(they looked on in shock)
As she danced on broken glass.

*eddy styx is my Male alter ego who writes dark poetry.