Sheltered Rhymes

Heard the words from your mouth,

That all things either end or head south;

After forgetting about the moment hear and now

Neglecting the good, golden rays falling upon the brow

My Old Book of Poetry & Prose.

Please, feel free to help an aspiring artist, writer, poet, and musician achieve his lifelong destiny for success. Thanks in advance. Kyle T. Dibert’s Book of Poetry

Poetic Junkies

Original KYLE T. DIBERT, DECEMBER 20th, 2017:

…shooting up the veins of the heart city, – a hundred miles an hour – as a a good junkie does well, and I can tell, that, despite admiration, I am fated for hell & yet oh well I don’t mind where all the ground fell while I was staring up at you through this miraculous well, and you were bankrupt before you decided to sell, and at your coffin, coughing casualties at commiserating children kissing flowers, praying by the hour, to not tower thus so high that one falls and usurps vitality, – power which dwindles stale & dwindles thus more sour; as if in high

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One More Burned Out and Innocently Gone

There’s miles ‘till dawn –

Even the moon’s moving on.

Another day, another song;

One more burned out and innocently gone.

waiting for the rain

never felt so uncomfortablein all of this life
as this drunken woman
to tried to touch me,
I wanted to exit the situation
exit the world
this life

lost the drugs

the girl

the will to live, even

do not disturb the angst-ridden bard who shouts profanities out of windows, cars

On a different plane of existence
Where pain is more ubiquitous
Than transient worldly pleasure;
And even in these times tripping through lovely leisure,
I try, in vain, to please her: I think to leave her
By leading her to lead bellies, sad livers, and city lights.
While we kiss & touch & live through vivacious, dead
Prophets we’ve not yet met, and seething
With regret, dead-set on traversing, tiredly
Toward a heaven in a cage with cold days spent
Teetering between rhyme and centuries out of mind
While you dance your fingers down my spine

in love I once was

fearless I am, yet fear encumbers every ticking second of time.

dead I am, but love of verse permits limitless rhyme.

in pain I am, though the days will expire,

like the forest or the woods, the abandoned town in a grapevine fire;

Just a Book

Was it my choice,

As a boy, to be this way;

To wake up every day,

Speak my mind –

Say what I say?

Am I just an actor

In another’s play?

Come the End

Come the end, for I am ready;

Come the end, the world is heavy.

 

Lest I lie, or lest I leave,

The best of me

I will retrieve.

 

But if I breathe tomorrow my last,

And today is only

A thing of the past,

I will remember

The world and all its contrast:

After a Wave Had Crashed

And the green leaves

Dripped

And cascaded down

Like a picturesque

Waterfall of

Playful emotion;

An Angel

Some say,

An angel was sitting in the passenger seat;

Sometimes, I believe it, too.

 

Some say,

The good only goes for so long;

The well will dry up soon.

 

Whether it rains or shines,

Someone is on my side:

The Center of the Universe Again

Amid the foliage and BrownsOf life’s ups and downs

Past the vibrancy

Of yesterday’s toil
In vacant bar rooms,

In absent minds

Like the heroes of a

forgotten cause—

the lost generation
Listlessly muttering by-gone

Aspirations for the new age;

The Love’s Gone Stale

The love has gone stale
Like a beached whale.
Sitting in the sun,
Not loved by anyone;
I played the game –
What a shame that was.
You were here, and then you were gone.
Where do I belong?

I Was Once Young

I say “I’m depressed.”
He replies
“Well, undepress yourself;
Come to the court with the ball and the women.”
I look away listlessly,
Knowing the drugs are gone –
They have fled.
The bottles are sadly empty;
Empty cans riddled
The window sill.
The window pane
Screamed with dusty odium,
As the sun gleamed with antipathy,
The people
With cars sped by
Going nowhere;
Perhaps to heaven
Or perhaps to hell
And

I Must Remember

I must remember that I am human;

I am able to be broken, manipulated –

I am malleable in the most stubborn of ways

 

I must remember the spaces between friends;

I need not have someone at the doorstep

The night through while I sleep

 

I must remember the pain I once felt;

I must remember the joy I once had.