#49 POETRY =

By Charles Robert Lindholm 

Poetry =

23:32

Fear.

Collision

When we collide,

made a universe

of our own,

embodied with

the ideals

of the lovers unknown.

I wanted.

I wanted to be your rain
As you are my sunshine
So we could make rainbows

I wanted to be the rock for you to lean on
In your times of smiles and tears
But little did I know, it’s use to crush my vows

Perfect Storm

“With a tide rising in your heart
and a gale rushing in mine,
we brewed a 
perfect storm together”
–Megha Sood

Our wild emotions were brewing
slowly and surely
simmering and rising to the surface
ready to be spilled
poured out of our hearts
where it was becoming
a fruitless task
to keep us apart

Contemplation

Quiet contemplation
A mind that never stops
Thoughts of how life changes
Memories.

Old habits

I got too close to you

I was drawn towards you

like a moth to a flame

Sometimes stories are to be searched for.

Sometimes stories are to be looked for

The words are to be weaved in

Some emotions are to be beaded

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

The Cosmos

When I was born, the Cosmos was young.
It’s exponential growth had scarcely begun.
As an infant, I learned to always ask, “Why?”
And the universe expanded with each reply.
Across the island of knowledge I began to crawl
And found not an edge or end, but endless sprawl.

Until, I heard something I knew was absurd.
Even though people called scientists avidly concurred
That the Cosmos was finite and several billion years old,
Who were they to limit what my universe could hold?
When, contrary to the revered “intellectuals’” thinking,
Visceral evidence told me, the Cosmos was shrinking.

Witty

They say I'm witty

My laughs can fill an empty space

and my smiles can be a cure

I can giggle my way through an uneasy path

and crack people up in any way I start
 

Dream

A bridge across forever
An unending dream
An endless walk on the beach
Uncanny sun on your face

Stay Beautiful

Stay beautiful
stay beautiful my heart
You have lots to learn and lots to forgot
Days will come and fill you with love
Emotions will make you happy
And people will crush

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

enough

Let this life end

Enough of hide and seek of

love and pain

#97 POETRY =

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Poetry =

Believing in something which is not there!

My faith in you…

But I do believe keeping my eyes open

My love for you I do believe wholeheartedly.

Poison Ivy

Beautiful is the pain

I go through everyday

Turning me into a beautiful butterfly

From the cocoon I’ve been.

I CANNOT WRITE IN CURSIVE

By Charles Robert Lindholm 

I cannot write in cursive
when I write poetry,
when I write about you
and the life we had 

Open Doors, I search..

A tiring day,
with those drenched brows
I walk out
in despair and no hope..

Looking down
at the earthly floor
I look up
for a shoulder for my tears to pour..

Language of the Heart

Any emotion
may be expressed

#53 POETRY =

By Charles Robert Lindholm 

Poetry =

#49 POETRY =

 

By Charles Robert Lindholm 

Poetry =

FRENZIED EMOTIONS

By  Charles Robert Lindholm and Wet Bliss (Italics)

I look in your eyes
and they tell me everything
your body lusts for

No Voice Left

 

Forrest reminded us that life is like a box of chocolates
Who knows what we will get as we go though challenges
There are times we see planets align we feel so blessed
Then we turn around, almost knocked down by changes.

Sensitive

You are too sensitive

My mother says to my 10 year-old-self

I look at her quizzically, confused.

Metamorphosis

Can a cigarette warm
the coldness of a soul
that stopped giving a damn
about it all?

Can a touch restore
the blood into the veins
of a body that’s been buried
under a million chains?

How?

How can you give up on the only self..
that never gave up on you?

How can you put a full stop to a story..
that involves other people too?