Else Poems

Take it as it comes

Take it as it comes they say
As if you have a choice
To take it in alternate way
To speak a different voice
To look outside and see the view
Of distant hills and dales
If only this could come to you
Not to somebody else
You can’t be ready in advance
Though you might think you can  
If you won’t take

Be Yourself and Everyone Else is Taken

Be yourself and everyone else is taken 
What you find cut from ownself?
Everyone in their own too fallen,
But it's better than lose own relief.


The world is too much big 
Then you think, you be else,
Man pretty in his own rig
If wear good but other's, it's conclude false.

The wills and thoughts are free
The all you see

does everyone else understand bird speak

the birds’ conversation is lively and fast
do the trees understand?
what about the long grasses and the violets?
Is everyone in the know?
the mosses? the dandelions? the ivy?
Does everybody understand bird speak except me?

what else do you have to do

what else do you have to do? She asks me.
She is young.
This is probably why she feels I am a slug.

A sloth who holds down a recliner.
A do-nothing who does nothing.

I could build a swing set I tell her.
Could swim a mile.
Could enter a dance contest.
Could build a bridge.
Could plant a garden.
Could travel to London.

She

What else has the Holy Spirit been revealing unto me Q and A and commentary

Q  When He revealed about my golden shield on my forehead, what else did the
     Holy Spirit reveal unto me?

A   He showed me several pregnant young women about ready to deliver their
      children first and second He told me that "the pregnant women

Feeling The Pain of Someone Else

You cry their tears and feel their fear.
Why, because they're someone you hold dear
You know they can't sleep because you're wide awake
You happened to be around when their heart starts to ache
Talking with them you're hoping for so much
But until things get better they have you as a crutch
With them on your mind your spirits

Genius or Else

I can either be a genius. 
Or not. 
Or a little piece of tape that falls off the wall. 
They’re going to find me someday. 

I can either be a genius. 
Or be a genius. 
Or be sculpted and sliced. 
And let it happen again. 

I can either be a genius. 
And not really know

Sometimes, the longing for her overwhelms me, and no one else knows this silent pain

Sometimes, the longing for her overwhelms me, and no one else knows this silent pain,
Most people think my pain is just poetry, just words, images from my wandering mind,
They don't see the battles I fight deep within my soul, where shadows dance on the edge of memories,
Maybe sometimes I lie in poetry because the truth

IF I WAS SOMEONE ELSE

A mask, a borrowed face,
A hidden self  hidden in space.
"Now you see why," the whisper sighs,
"Why truth in me so quickly dies."

A wall of silence, built so high,
Your unseen block, a cold goodbye.
My voice, unseen, unheard, unknown,
A seed of self, that's never grown.

"If I was someone else," I'd cry!!
A different name, a different creed.
Then,

Nothing Else Is New

One moment when the dust today
Was flung against my upturned face,
I felt the winter’s breath convey
A dream once mine in childhood’s place.

Yet though I walk a farther mile,
The dream returns, unchanged in hue—
No sadder now than all the while,
For nothing else is ever new.

Insomniac Deteste

A cacophonic silence,
A mere blanch of a catastrophic faliure,
A maroon in a sickening mirage,
'tis a shade one more,
As a ray one less,
Fairing smiles adiue,
Requiem of a chastised face,
Lay a bed,
O'er wond'rous, to waste.

Where'n freshen lie fast in his daze,
Merry may go his hour,
Time shroud.
However vivid,
a weary slumber ,
Is but man's sorry tire,
Weeping sore,
Once dreaded in

What else can a poem do

Can help you to meet you, 
        what else can poems do?
Make your thoughts shine like dew, 
        what else can poems do?

One eve, her memories 
        when begin to hurt anew, 
Bliss of

Turning Somewhere Else

That cold sparkle of despicable antipathy,
which never waned and was held inside secretly,
didn't start any true affection or desire in me:
on death's final breath it'll agonize me! 

Turning somewhere else is seeking vengeance,
from somebody so embolden by anger and apathy;
being unkind is showing the falsity of pretense:
cling to me and spare yourself more days of

STOP! OR ELSE

Glaring oracles, suspended high above the asphalt,
Imperiously commanding reckless drivers to a sharp halt.
Defenestrate the folly of haste, oblivious to the signals, 
Prioritize life over velocity and frivolous giggles.

I believe the souls will continue living somewhere else

mum, when you told these people that you want us to pay for the sins we did, so you won't pray for us.
The way you said it, like it is something easy to speak about, 
to let out, 
and you even shrugged your shoulders.
I would've prayed for you.
Why don't you want us all to live

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