Celestial Poet/ The Closet Poet / Blog

Lost Love

stillness comes but no peace i find. thought of the one i love continue to cross my mind. memories flash and I see us together. my misconceptions thought that we could last through any weather. but the storm came and brought the floods and rain. Now my broken heart is filled with deep pain. I look at the pictures and the happy times when you told me “you will always be mine.” but that time has ended, you have let go, but yet all my memories refuse not to flow. So tonight i see that sandman won’t find me. insomnia has once again come and bound me. the laughs echo with in my soul and I keep asking myself why u let me go. I know that i am beautiful with a heart made of gold. I know that peace and joy flow from my soul. I’ve been told my smile is contagious and it lights up a room. I know my love pocket always made you moan. i know that we laughed whenever we were together. i know we passed all the tests that we faced together. I saw the light flicker in your eyes when I made your man stand and rise. i saw the way you watched me sleep, yes, i did because i peeked. i felt the tenderness in your hands and when u touched me, man oh man! I thought i heard the sincerity in your voice when u spoke. When you spoke your words of love to me you never choked. i suppose you can see why confused is what i am because you said you loved me but got me standing alone saying “damn!”. i know I’m not perfect, I didn’t say i am, i’m just trying to figure out why your no longer my man. 10 The Closet Poet But errthang happens for a reason they say. so i’ll let these memories continue to play. fore i know, that i know, that i know, one day you’ll come back to me and say “i wasn’t ready, that why i did it dat way. i had goals and ambitions and things i had to do. it was all me, it wasn’t you.” so with that in my heart and my mind in agreement i will sit back n pray for peace that is heaven sent. (C)2010 Closet Poet


My inspiration left today, It evaporated like water on hot asphalt after a summer rain. It floated away on the mind It disappeared like the rabbit it the magician's hat I don't want to do anything but lay here, and dissapate into nothingnes. My breathing is shallow, my blood pressure is dropping, my vitals aren't looking good, because inspirtaion......it is my life support. It provides me with the oxygen I need to sustain life. It provides me nurishment to maintain my healthy wieght. It gives me the energy to make it but since inspiration left today the plug has been pulled and I.........am.........slowly....dying. My energy has been depleated and I can no longer hold a pen, My thoughts turn black and my body turns cold. I know that the warmth of sunshine I will never again feel against my face, or the soft touch of a butterfly's kiss or the rain as it dances upon my skin. I will never again hear my children laugh or the waves on the beach on the sand when they crash. But wait.........I now see inspiration hasn't left me, It was in the back of my mind asleep waiting on me to awaken it.

His Love

he begins by picking up his pen he grips it firmly in his hand he spins it around to feel its weight. it feels good and heavy. it is cool to the fingertips and smooth he allows his mind to wonder it takes him to unraveled, un-traversed, untouched place with in his mind within his heart, within his soul he bypasses emotions that cause him pain, love, trust, and the desire for companionship and gets to the destination that he is looking for, the familiar places of disappointment, solitude, anger. his thoughts run around untamed, ready to strike. he sits among them, pen in hand, ready to shoot. this is his love. the paper beside him sits empty longing for the stroke of his pen. as he sits there in the middle of his thoughts he slowly begins taming his friends. one by one his words come to him. they seductively travel through his veins, through blood, then through ink to make love to the paper. this is his love. he is euphoric as his hand travels across the smoothly rough wood. eyes almost closed, a childlike grin is tattooed on his face, his eyes are glazed. he is shooting them down as quickly as they come to him. with every word another stroke. he feel the release fast and faster his ink flows and the sex he is making almost has him sweating. the paper just lays there taking it all in. this is his love. every stroke a different curve, every inch a different depth, but the ink reflects his soul it holds the haunted, hunted, communications of an untamed man. his pen and his paper, this is his love.

Fukin Luv you

Why do I put up with the shit that I do: Why you ask? Because I fukin love you. but with all the bullshit you putting me through I’m starting to believe that shit you said, I’m no good for you. you come in when u good and ready, and don’t touch me like I like, I tell you, that shit that you do makes me wanna fight you go out and stay all night, and wut do I say? “baby did you have a good fun filled day?” Where the fuck they do that at? don’t u know about them other cats? them futherfukers that try and holla at me, I am quick to tell them there’s only one for me. why do I put up with the shit that I do? why in the fuk do I stay with you? y you ask? Because I fukin love you. you catch an attitude and sumtimes u r rude, and that nig-ra that just eye-balled me, u wanna cuss out that dude. you have several bitches on call ready to fuk you, you said I’m #1, y then do I feel like # 2? y do I put up with the shit that I do? y do I go thru wut I go thru? why you ask? because I fukin love you. so why don’t I leave y do I stay, why after the bullshit y don’t I just stray? Why you ask? because....


He seduces me mentally, He stimulates my mind, Ideas are bent backwards, unmoral but at times they seem all so natural, Make-believe made to appear as non-fiction, And in my eyes-blinded-nose-wide-open-heart-giving-into-the-unrealistic state of mind that I am in, I believe what sound waves he feeds into my ear. yes I hear him, I listen to the false hopes and empty promises The same words put into the same order as yesterday and the day before that and the week before that. The words that form sentences that translate into a language I don’t understand but comprehend as a lie. But yet still I fall. I fall into the trap that was set for me. Just like a Venus fly trap entices its prey he has lured me into his land of wonderland. Where dreams come true and it seems that anything is possible, after all, here is where he allows me to fly. I drift off into the stratosphere as his touch and his words tantalize my synapses. It appears that I am lost in translation, lost in thought and lost in the false dreams of being with him. He allows me to remain intoxicated with the fantasy filled ideas that he has place into my imagination. And I am content to remain here. Here in the picture perfect wonderland that he had painted for me. Here where unrealistic fantasies dance Here were I am free to believe whatever my heart desires, where I am free to partake in the forbidden and the untouchable, here where he seduces me with magical ideas and spell bounding dreams Where he makes me expose myself fully and foolishly, Where the whispers of fantasies play continually and where I give myself up to untruths. Here where my fears become feathers and float away Here where his spoken words imprison me, Here in his unfathomable wonderland I am tantalizingly, mystically,transfixed