Intangible sunset.
Silentious silhouette.
Uproarious beauteous,
Integrate in thou.

Expression reeking of
enthusiasm entranced splendour being.

Haphazardly harbinger of light manifesting a tune of new meaning.

Incongruous at first.
The then developed thirst,
of knowing intensively.

We’re all seeking something, that something is meant to be.

For tomorrow is not promised. We can make it our own way if we join forces to our-selves lovingly.

when I heard
Miss Piggy laugh,
on those days
I would be OK
between the
oceans of pain
we had paddled
to meet

plastic bags of magic
hang from fishing poles
wheeled in by flying nuns
with blessings
of water and love,
we divined ways to forget,
the moments in minutes
when agony pushes through

to shave another piece off
our shared sheer will,
and eating the pieces
were the demons
we all harbor,
unwilling jailers
of repeat offenders
spot our roll-call

I always felt as if my poetry wasn’t real poetry.
That my writing could never be as good as Robert Frost, Walt Whitman, or Lord Alfred Tennyson.
They were masters of their art.
But then I read a book that explained the breaks, rhythm, and melody of poetry.

How for one to be a poet,
One must write from the heart
And let words flow from the soul.

How poetry isn’t defined by rhyme,
But how the feelings of the poet are conveyed.

She holds his eyes accountable
but pours him another drink
Her feminine wiles beckon smiles
and serve him a sexy wink

Like all the others before him
he falls for the line of her story
seduced by the scene where she's seen
and she denies she wants the glory

Photos of desire imprinted
made-up lips of what she said
eyes torn away from the cruel light of day
he falls for her look instead

I said my prayers upon my knees a long, long time ago,
I’d genuflect and cross myself and let him take me so.
And when I felt I was at peace, I’d look upon his glory,
So I could know him lovingly and live within his story.

Inside church walls devotion used and there to give me lesson.
And learn the ways of the lord and accept I’m his possession.
Through all my life I said the words with duty and compliance,
Accepting God for all his good, yet still ignoring science.

Standing upon the bridge looking down to the scenery strikes wonder into my soul free.

an amorphous cascade of water running fourth, causing a halfhearted deadlock unto the dreadnought; getting caught up in the epitome of fleeting etiquette.
Enchanted by effervescent, flowing from the rocky crescent.

Evergreen tree’s light the breeze as a slow moving drift flows down from the moon-lit morning sky. Moved by such majesty.

-Sage Collet

Meet me at the graveyard, where the air is goosedown
Lilies of our memories respire, weighted with murmurs of dew

Through faded silk flowers and tawny sandy clay
We can traverse liminal space, witness death’s promenade

Try to find ourselves among the angels, moss, porcelain
Surrounded by the perfume of poetry, poison, loss

Sacred ghosts of the black wrought gate will let us through
But if we want to come out on the other side unscathed

I wore fear
like a winding sheet,
leaving behind trails
of dead dreams

I held hope in my hands
and weeping, it slid
through my fingers
evaporating to naught

I undulated to music
praying for redemption
within the passage,
I was left bereft,
still, taciturn

But by relinquishing velleity
into the firmament,
and smashing my glass heart
for the loves' of my life

I've begun to believe
in miracles again,
I am finding the way
that comforts my soul

stripped of feelings
freedom from my heart,
might trip again but
will not fall apart.

you will never know
the mess you made.
trying to get inside
let it go, it will fade.

you think you know me
but you're wrong you do not.
I have fanned my fire
from warm to glowing hot.

you had the real thing
but threw it away,
now you dare to ask
for me to stop and stay.

I no longer care
so I give fair warning,
you may spend the night
just be gone before morning.

Sometimes I feel like I need to cry
And that’s okay.
Those are the days that I look forward to the most.
Those are the days that I need the most.

You taught me to stuff my feelings away
Because they weren’t as important as yours.

You taught me to hide my face
Just to save face.
Because you needed a smile on your mask.

You taught me to keep my throat locked up
In fear that I might say the wrong thing.