PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You what, what the f*** did you call me,

Come over here and knock me out pussy.

Let’s see what you have got,

Let’s see your flow,

Let’s see what style you know.

You throw a punch at me,

And I will hit you with three.

Finish you off real quick,

With a sickle kick.

But why start with me, peaceful Phil?

I turn my head and walk away.

It’s all ok, this happened in my mind,

Let go of this he was only taking the p***

Walk away,

Be the bigger man,

Focus on the master plan.

Chill out and relax,

Let the problems pass.

Go to sleep

You are weakened

from the week and

you feel like you are in need of

a whole weekend

of good treatment

or just taking the whole week off!

your achievement

for the evening

is that now you can just dream of

anything that

you believe in

close your eyes and try to think of

an appeasing

memory and

that's the best therapy!

Don't count sheep,

just go to sleep

and dream of life how it should be

with your eyes closed

 you can see

anything easily!

When I close my eyes

I see to my surprise

the mind behind my blindness!

Where I can find good guidance!

Back in the same spot

Where time freezes

Carrot and tomato juice

And company of visible angels

Celebrating the now.

Tomorrow has to wait.

If it doesn’t come –

We’re not sitting here in vain

For this moment, this time…

This miniscule part of the revolving

Of the earth, of universe –

Of life.

Is eternalized.

Timeless.

We breathe…

Tomorrow has to wait.

The universe revolves

I close my eyes…

I feel it move – slow and fast.

Round and round – I’m dizzy

In this spiral worlds of ups and downs,

I drown.

I scream – Silently.

And yet, at the end of the day…

There’s time to breathe –

To exist.

Here and now – I freeze time.

At the Little Cottage Café.

Those cool September nights
chilling us so.
Though we dressed in remembrance

of August

with her warm, welcoming ways
waving us in for a safe landing
upon a soft shore.

The chilly, early fall evenings
cool upon our skin,
but within we’re dripping sweat
in my backseat,
bent.

We hit some turbulence in these dimming skies,
highlighting our wanting eyes,
with all the typical tints
of yellow and pink,
purple and orange,
so awesome and grand
hanging over this
cold land.

-Ryan K. Fuller