You have come to be closeted in the wind & so
I ask you to take my hand, touch
The gravel traces that run
Thru the weeds on the sidereal clip.
They dangle from the projector,
The projectionist too tired
For the catapult,
Too tired,
For the sad tales we cough up
Into his arms.
Ah, you have touched my heart
With your weary composure.
I will ask you no more to run
Across my screen.
We are popcorn bodies
In an empty theatre.
Category: Penman Lounge
A Different Cause With The Same Act.
There are to many writers and not enough words.
That’s why were all left repeating ourselves.
There is to much hatred and not enough love.
That’s why were constantly killing ourselves.
I’ve seen the lost widow cry and soldier regret.
Young children battered from years of neglect.
The man with the beard and the long flowing hair.
May shed tears in heaven but he wont answer prayers.
I hear screams from the concrete.
I smell blood in the air.
See the people uplifted as they protest and cheer.
Your democracy has ended.
This is anarchy here.
Until the anarchy’s resisted.
And democracy’s insisted.
Our repetition of the past is totally consistent.
I will become the sister I have always wanted
I will become inappropriate for city life
fly a trapeze in the jungle
maybe do some mechanical work on rocket ships for extra cash
I will become a hobbyist for underwater paraphernalia
I will become the kind of old person who always buys the same kind of shoes
when my soles have worn thin
or at least live and die with someone who does
I will become a spinster who reads a French newspaper on Sundays
understanding not a word, but femme sole
I will crochet all of the hairs and dental floss I find into a new outfit for the Statue of Liberty
I will become the sister I have always wanted
Untitled (so far.)
Untitled (so far.) by Geo E. Burks
Was that her I was thinking of.
Why should not I think of her?
She cared for that role,
The one in her life I was.
But she couldnt had me,
And I was contented as that.
Not as my pride nor my failure.
I loved her as my preference.
She did tried though.
To make me her more,
To make more of me.
I was already all that,
All that that had need.
From known pride and failures.
Remaking our preferences.
Yet, she wanted more of me,
The more she can entrusted as me,
Which isn’t not from me,
And all that because I was not had,
By a wanton desire mistaken as a need.
For I knew my pride and my failures,
By preferences that are known as I.
I did need to be that role for her,
Her friend, her lover and her strength.
The one who cared by caring.
The one who love by sheltering.
The one she can call reliant and loyal,
But she or I can’t had this,
Nor remake any of this.
These are my pride and my failures,
All done as my preferences.
This is why I was thinking of her.
Looking at that cage’s latchless door,
I made for us as our togetherness.
To make all that as what I had her for.
Knowing pride can easily marred this,
And either of us can easily fail this.
Fail that that was not meant to be had,
yet built by our preferences for our betterment.
A betterment for both of us as one’s loves.
Thank You For Letting Us Know We Aren’t Alone Feeling.
(To Those Of The American Music Association Who Are Always There Thoughout My Life With What I Really Need. Please, Allow This Poise From My Pure Essential Life’s As Being Convey Why I Had Always Appreciating What You Do.)
Thank You For Letting Us Know We Aren’t Alone Feeling.
Purity By Geo. E. Burks
You, songbirds’ sweet touch wells life anew.
In my mind, you can redefine love’s steadiness, too.
Find anymore love forms in my kudo?
To do me better with that form again as true.
Tears I hid well, You shame me there, too.
As my culture’s most high, and there I praise you.
Don’t let me, let this fail, for what I do!
For the failures will always have me alone to show as dues.
This I can placed when my balance is made anew.
Our heart’s strong commonarities impressed as art by you.
Thank You, for never allowing the thesis we be as a neglect for dues.
As a world under one sun, our skys resounds by the harvest of our common felt lieus.
Always true as of our natural capacity for refining what we crude.
For these refineries we grew to be the reforms our uniqueness as infinitive new!!
Consistently since we first noticed of you songbirds’ justifying and maturing my living life moods.
With your airborne felt flights of everlasting passages thru and above my estate’s refuges.
You are very much of my earth’s evolving sustances arising reinforcing my humanly soul true.
With signals liberating the whole spirit from points within that are uninformed subdued.
To reproof us as an always and again as we love and this is why I will evermore always love you.
Thank you for the sheltering and nurturing of our distinct hearts’ life-giving cultural rooted muses
Your love and honor does enriches my country’s symbolic blues!!
With with evermore XOX(S) THANK YOU!!!
From A Fan Who Happily Dwelling In Your Snafus Named George.
A Poet’s Prayer
If these verses be not great,
Let them be better
Than all I have written before
And all that anyone else is writing.
Give me the strength to change
All that cannot be mine
Into my greatest inspiration,
Let me find victory in my defeat,
Words to cover up reality’s bad patches
With all the language allows to glitter.
Keep me drunk enough
To always have sentences to spout,
But sober enough to hold a pen,
Keeping inspiration in place.
If I die before I am great,
Let my death awake
The critics from dogmatic slumbers, and
The readers behind their cozy books,
Let it arrive unannounced,
To improve my standing with both,
And open the gates to the pantheon.
Love
When People are in love it shows, right down 2 our smiles and to the way we look at each other. Sometimes I think I’m the only 1 in love because you don’t look at me like you love me, You don’t act like u need me, and sometimes you act like you don’t even care.
So Many things I want to do with you and sometimes to you, But also so many reasons why I hold back. Sometimes I’m afraid to even kiss you, how do you think it feels to not be able to feel comfortable kissing some1 you love, or jus being sweet n holdin them, and telling them how much they mean to you. But the Reason I’m not comfortable is because You’ve rejected me so many times on a relationship that all I expect from you is rejection. And Don’t Get me WRONG, I respect that u let me know that you weren’t “READY” even though your reasons never matched up. And Still I stayed by your side, I stayed faithful, and there were times where I couldn’t do it anymore, and I just wanted to give up on you, but it was only for a day or maybe just a hour, And I always let u know I want you back, and that I would miss you to much if I didn’t have you. Why I still love you and why I still deal idk why yet.
As a matter of fact I do know, I think you interested me a lot, I see a lot of my grandfather and my father in you, Your Pride is Beautiful, and your humbleness is calming, And Your honesty is Greatly Appreciated.
So At The End of the day, you don’t have to love me, and maybe you never will but I do love you, and I don’t want any other man because even though you don’t do much for me, you do just enough to make me smile and I enjoy every moment and any little bit of time we get to spend togethe
For All We Know
We become delusional when looking out
We see only for & against
Go on loading up on imaginary needs,
Interfacing solely with like-minds & choirs.
Some of those choruses may acquire pitchforks
As times grow grim, and disinformation
Clogs our airwave arteries.
The incandescent time has gone.
We are on low burner as autumn arrives
Slowly in whiffs & waves
Chasing summer into shadow corners.
Under the media spell we ignore
What we sow by how
We phrase conjectures to confuse
The easily confused. Our failing construct
Multiplies, diseased parts included,
Around the globe. In Shanghai
The glitzy skyline mirrors our
Glittering facades. There is no
“Human face of socialism” there,
On the make and don’t step in
Front of traffic. The left behind
Are in a bind. Here
We enjoy our remaining clear skies
And clouded government.
The soap operas continue
To fog our insight.
“If elections really made a difference,
They would cancel them,” someone once said.
If we do not pick up on this,
Pick something out of the rubble,
Start anew then those chances
Will recede back
Into the chatter that controls.
The Waters Called
The first ring,
And they stand still,
Could it be for them?
The first ring
Brings eyes to them,
They want the attention
The first ring
Brings eyes on them,
They recoil at the stares
The second ring
And they look back
Look around
The second ring
They begin to suspect
There is a message for them
The second ring
Someone must have that song,
I can’t be the only one
The third ring
Out comes the bag
From under the coat
The third ring
And the hand fishes
The gap for the device
The third ring
Now out in the open and louder
Until the voices replace it
With that music
Coming out of a little box,
Straining to the max
They should be embarrassed,
But when my phone rings,
I will jump up,
Someone remembers me.
am i my brothers keeper
They ask am I my brother keeper,so I reply; “don’t I always have my
brothers back in anytime of need”
Cuz if not than how can I consist of him my brother, friend, partner,
but most indeed some one from my mother womb and mainly my father seed.
If there is a mountain my brother climbs than seek me there
If there’s a reason for my brothers tears than know it’s my shoulders
he tearing on
He it’s a war than proceed the battle and see me stand beside my
brother and if he shell fall than it’s I whom picks him up and carrys
him on…….
My brother yes he is and together we will stand tall like the trees
and strong like the gods of Greek and then you can us both, am i my
brothers keeper…