Paint with Black Ink (Poem)

Recently, I have undertaken a project to write a longer poem one day at a time. Each evening I will be adding one stanza to this poem. You can find the stanzas first on twitter @RedArmyFactionX.

Paint the world with black ink
Drawn with a needle through your soul
Rainbows in shades of gray
Sunsets of omniscient grief

And as you lay me down to sleep
Don't fix a smile upon my face
Set a look of despair and grief
And let me leave this cold dark place

Let me seek the glimmering light
Shed of these thoughts lighter than air
Let me paint a new and darker night
Forgetting my face lined with care

The Wind (Poem)

The Wind

Wind, always is the day Wind, always only stays

All else seems to fade with each passing of the day

wanderlust, you might be but do you collect

these paths you tread and these miles you see

blown from your mind ah the winds they are kind

these paths you've tread leave nothing in their stead

These winds caress but they do not obey

the faces you've seen it has blown them away

but if only the wind was so easy to hate

just a depriver of thoughts, the stealer of fate

but we must take such as we have

the good with the bad, the happy and sad

These winds to, they mend whats been broken

they wear down the hills into fields unbroken

Until the you wander on past the scene

then try to remember like a half-recalled dream

It is here the wind does you no favor

it should be forgotten but becomes something to savor

the woman she stood by the shop door

the wind in her hair but her feet on the floor

she turns to leave and catches your eye

then smiles and nods and walks right on by

The wind it is still, it bothers you not

you set her face in your mind, clearly besot

the days turn to years and you've lived out your lot

but you can still see her face, the wind serves you not

this is one hill it has not worn down

for it was still that day in that small little town

this is the problem of missed opportunity

and why the wind is a thing of beauty

things that could have or would have been

are the toys of of the treacherous wind

Tired (Poem)

Well here I am at 1:19 at night and I decided that it would be a grand idea to post an update. This time I figured some happier poetry was in order. This is a poem I wrote for my girlfriend to add a little more to her da. I hope you enjoy it. Like with all poetry feel free to use this under a creative commons.

If you have ever been camping then I think you might understand
The amazement in which I first held your hand

Imagine a fire that’s been put out by the rain

it has extinguished the warmth and light so arcane

But when you poke around inside the ashy mess

you find tucked inside an ember a la heart in chest

burning away without any thought of going out

yet think of how long it took you to find this fiery sprout

the rain itself had tried its best to put out this brand

but no matter the pain you've found someone to take your hand

what you once thought impossible has happened before your eyes

and believe it not its a beautiful person that doth arise

You've blown on my ember and rekindled its spirit

and I tremble when you say my name so that I can barely hear it

Maybe its that I’ve lit your flame anew

but just know that these kinds of things are quite seldom and few

The way you hold me when we lay side by side

fills me with joy that, its true, I struggle to quite hide

the way you run you fingers all throughout my hair

leaves me in another world yet still laying there

the way that this has happened is entirely a surprise

and to me it doesnt make sense, pure logic it does defy

The nights I spend with you grow that ember stronger

and I can tell that what we have should go on a great time longer

You know that I am not the richest man but I love to see you smile

and laugh and roll about when I’ve tickled you for a while

you really dont know how much good you've show a poor old heart like mine

and I look exceedingly forward to beautiful things we'll get in time

But enough about what I have felt let me show you what you are

to this poor old heart of mine that you've managed to set afire

With easy grace do you look upon me laying there

and fall on down beside me and stroke upon my hair

Your caress is gentle and appropriately so

from here to where does our joinéd journey go

Its such a wonder and such a delight

to have a wonderful you in my life