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Poetry I wrote you some flowers

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One Thousand Club
I wish your eyes weren't the color
of the flowers on my wife's grave
I wish your smile didn't remind me
of the flowers on my wife's grave
I wish your touch wasn't softer
than the flowers on my wife's grave
I wish your voice wasn't sweeter
than the flowers on my wife's grave
I wish my heart was too full up
like the coffin in my wife's grave.

I'm not upset that you went away
I'm upset you didn't take me with you.
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One Thousand Club
Ich weiß, dass du Poesie hasst.
Ich kenne die Farbe deiner Augen.
Ich weiß, dass du das süßeste Lächeln hast.
Dein Lächeln macht mich für morgen träumen.

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One Thousand Club
I wish I could say that I could never love you again because the pain would be too great. But that isn't true. I could never love you again because I have never stopped loving you. Every minute of every hour reminds me of nothing more than my love for you. Every breath I draw I pray will be the last one I draw without you by my side. It's all sappy bullshit. The poems, the essays, the cries of a man who's tired of living, pained and decrepit. You know I'm not one for bullshit. But it's all I have. I'd move Heaven and Earth to be at your side again, if only my arms were long enough. I'd search the universe for you if only my legs were strong enough. But all I have are the same words and chords and empty threats. That's all you left me with. You were the closest thing I ever had to a heart. What am I supposed to do without you?

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One Thousand Club
There's a poem
(with your name on it)
that your eyes (will never read)
that your lips (will never speak)
it's long and boring,
it's rambling and raving,
it's angry and mournful,
and it's about sad things.

When I see you
(in another life)
i'll read you the poem
and I'll write you one better:
three words:
i love you.
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One Thousand Club
Flirty February Submission:


i've often imagined
a lifetime with you
toes in the sand
of the beach
i fell in love with
fingers in the hand
of the woman
i fell in love with

i've often imagined
a ring around your finger
shining like the stars
in the sky
i lose my way in
shining like the stars
in the eyes
i lose my way in

i've often imagined
the sound of waves
flowing over me
in the Gulf
ebbing warmly
flowing over me
like that voice
ebbing warmly

i've often imagined
those nights in that place
that cannot exist
and never will
i've often imagined
the rhythm of your heart
which cannot beat
and never will.

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One Thousand Club
sometimes (when I close my eyes)
i smell the sea
sometimes [when i listen to the wind]
i feel the warmth of the texas sun

sometimes (when I feel nothing)
i hear the tender voice
i feel the flowing river
i bask beneath the sycamores
and i remember

i remember the blankets
of indiana snow
tucking me in to bed
their icy warmth telling me
there's "something" for me

but something came
and then she went
i wonder if
the sycamores are weeping with me

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One Thousand Club
You know what? I will-I WILL go to Hell! I will go to hell before I sit here and watch this country and the world turned over to these savages! I'm done, I'm pissed, and I'm not putting up with it anymore! Let me tell you something, you filthy traitors in the government, you pieces of crap.

You are the most degenerate, twisted, mentally ill people I've ever seen, wanting to gang-rape this Republic and this country and the West that has been the literal cornerstone, the absolute jewel in the crown of free Western Renaissance societies and the very best literature, music, technology, science, medicine, culture the world's ever seen!

You Satanists wanna to sacrifice the West! You wanna to kill the beautiful goddess that is the West! You people are enemies, and we're going to get your asses, and we know what you're up to, and we're coming for you!

You know, I'm never a lesser of two evils person, but this Richardson guy is a literal, abject, psychopathic, demon from Hell that as soon as he gets into power is going to try to destroy the planet. I'm sure of that, and people around her say he's so dark now, and so evil, and so possessed that they are having nightmares, they're freaking out.

Folks let me just tell you something, and if media wants to go with this, that's fine. I mean, I was told by people around her that they think he's demon-possessed, okay? I'm just going to go ahead and say it, okay? They said that they're scared. That's why when I see her when kids are by him, I actually get scared myself, with a child -- with that big rubber face and that -- I mean this man is dangerous, ladies and gentleman. I'm telling you, he is a demon. This is Biblical. He's going to launch a nuclear war.

"Aaaeeh aaah MURDER THE CHRISTIANS reeeeuhhhh DESTROY EVERYTHING just rughhh..." I mean you know this drunk is "bleeeugh" but still stumbling forwards, "MORE BLOOD loeooaoohh" as he falls down, they go "our God must be lifted back up guuagh aeeeeeghehhah MORE BLOOD OF THE INNOCENT hahahaha sell the baby parts, arrest the reporters that expose we're keeping babies alive, heat the hospitals with their bodies, have the Pepsi taste testing systems be based on fetal tissue ALL DEMONIC SYSTEMS, GENETICALLY ENGINEER ALL THE CROPS, OVERTHROW CREATION, MORE BLOOD, oaohhgahgh loeooogh." That's Alex Richardson for you.

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One Thousand Club
Nice poem, i would write poems if all mine werent so sad or edgy
Did you read the poems? What about them seemed unsad or unedgy? Write. Negative emotions are a part of you. They are essential to you, and who you are as an artist. If you deny your art negative emotions, you're denying yourself the full ability of your art. You don't have to share everything you write, and not everything you write needs to fit your own standards. It's okay if you write something and you think "huh this is shit" because it's still your writing, and all that matters is if your art is you.

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One Thousand Club
The resonance of her melodies
Which dance within the wind
Like the ocean breeze
Lets me weep and remember.
The flow of fingers over frets
Stirs the swelling of my heart
The cold I can't forget
Melts away with her warmth.
And when she's with me
And her strings are singing
I think of you.

I think of you moving,
Whistling within the wind
Like the ocean breeze
Its dance soon to begin

I think of your smile
Stirring the swelling of my soul
Your lips loving sweetly
Making me whole.

I think of those flowers
Left on your grave.

I listen to her singing
That sweet sweet lullaby
Softly, sweetly, stringing, tender;
And I can finally weep and remember.

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One Thousand Club
How odd those great birds seem
with fleshy beaks and unfeathered wings.
How naive and foolish they will seem
when I tell you of what they sing.
They sing of thunder, of lightning, of rain,
they sing of sorrow, of heartbreak, of pain.
They sing of wonders they cannot have,
they sing of memories hurtful and sad.
Do not mourn for them, my child;
they've mourned for themselves for too long a while.
Sing not your songs on pain and sorrow,
remember that the sun will shine tomorrow.

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