you're my artist

your words are 
drops of paint

They'll do

what you want them to,

your stories are

spoted on my skin,

some are red,

some are blue

The things you say

drew my smile

but  what you hide

painted my tears too

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Journey of the Dissident

Pour poison on the brain,

Losing my self-control again;

I’ve been away too long,

I don’t recognise these shores,

Yet I was born and baptised in them.


Now I’m drowning in Aquarius eyes,

And choking on pearl tears,

Building something out of nothing,

Erecting an obelisk of all my thoughts and fears,

A spiralling story, shrouded by the clouds,

Threating to crush me at the beginning of a storm,

Knowing the beginning, but the rest is never-ending.


I’m a stranger in my body, reaching for control,

My mind was once my nemesis,

A place to refuge,

My body is now a vessel,

To champion my greatest glory,

A tapestry that changes from perspective,

To stitch and sow into flesh: ever so permanent.


Dissident marches on a limp foot,

Sheltering from electric thoughts;

Carved imperfections, a beauty to behold,

Freedom is a conquest with consequence,

Imprisonment for truths yet spoken,

True victory is to know that there is belief in oneself,

A catalyst for rebellion: the message is sewn. 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This may seem dijointed, but I think it's came together nicely... I'm on a new path in life, so tried to convey that.


~Your Love~

Your love can thrill me
give me lots of delight
your kisses are like honey

For you I am living for
and for eternity I'm yours.

Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000


TOMORROW (Quatern)


Yesterday just came and left again
And now it seems just like a dream
It'll be memory in my brain
That may bring sunshines happy gleam.

I just try to enjoy'd what I've got
Yesterday just came and left again
Think I can make it on the dot
I know the effort isn't in vain.

If I can only follow Gods plan
And don't get stuck in the past
Yesterday just came and left again
With all its ups and downs fast.

Everything has its bad good days
Now left holding more memories
But 'morrow sunshine just hopes raises
Yesterday just came and left again.

Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000


BROKEN DREAMS (Alliteration/Rhyming Couplets)

~Broken Dreams~
(Alliteration/Rhyming Couplets)

Sharp light falls angrily,
baleful summer entombs bleakly,
As concrete vessel sighs completely,
and vibrant life crashes hypocritically

Uniform dreams craves caressingly,
tribal battle-axe stoops suggestively,
As vestigal coma crashes dazzlingly,
and a broken light languishes sleeplessly

Broken dreams shrieks caressingly,
gray coma nags uncomfortably;
As deliberate creationism dies expectantly,
and soundless enticement capitulates finally

As a drunken light sheds thinly
and broken dreams sighs sullenly!

Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000



~Another Morning Embraces The Day~
(Rondeau )

Another morning, embraces the day
As I grab my cup of coffee, and I am on my way,
Outside I hear flycatchers sing,
And watch the butterflies take a little spin,
Surrounded, by scented roses of many arrays.

Sitting across,a lake of blue in complete repose
Warm sunshine kisses and caresses all my nose,
And sends oh, so fast, all my cares away
Another morning...

Trying to steal here an early break,
Catching me a wee nap, like it, every week,
To think and get my poor mind in touch,organize
Sipping another cup of coffee is a God-sent prize
As I totally embrace the day, and take another peek,
Another morning...

Dorian Petersen Potter
Aka ladydp2000


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Untitled (Class Poem)

A man sits with letters and numbers at his feet
In deep contemplation of how to proceed.
Logic persistent, the written word escapes him.
Left with quantity and calculation.
He finds it exhausting and chooses to daydream,
Drawing funny lines in the sand - by hand.
Mouths filled with teeth and fiery intelligence
Orbit about and spout to him relevance;
But try as he may, he finds them so boring -
They continue spilling their values on to the ground.
He remembers as a child how they sounded so shrill,
Filling mind and body with their pressures and dread.
Intentions were noble, methods were flawed;
Still they cannot seem to reach him.
He'd rather craft the dirt than trade his time for theirs;
Such voices laced with fine contempt.
Admiring his work that now devours the Earth,
He doesn't see the sense in their chatter.

So they've borne another artist,
Doomed to filth and peddling scribe.
Dust beneath nails, colors in his hair;
Altering and fashioning and generating nothing.
Spawn of the moonshine, constantly tilted -
Swine of the herb vine, messy and stilted.
The making of bull shit will get you nowhere,
But maybe you're happy just being wasted.

A man sits so stoic, enjoying the air;
Indulgent in quiet, grateful for stillness.
A trifle bit hungry he reaches for something,
And finds he's yet to earn it.
He smiles, so sadly, and yet absolute,
Only to continue his scribbles.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Wrote this some time last year in the last college class I tried to make it through. I had forgotten about it until now.

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