Liar Forgiven Once.

You portray the illusion you're flawless
As you try very hard to mislead me.
I have standards for men, I'm not lawless.

So-called "facts" that you tell me are stories.
They've been derived from your dishonest mind.
I require a man with TRUE glories.

Why don't you speak what is true and unwind
Before my tolerance for you is gone.
My advice- wise up or get left behind.


*Amber

Do it: A Tanka.

Sweep me off my feet,
Send me into psychosis.
You have permission.
Steal me from reality
Show me something wonderful.

*Amber

An Etheree About a Boy.

I
want you
to know that
a mere three weeks
has not allowed for
my memory of you
to completely diminish.
I can't pass a Barnes and Noble,
read a poem by Chuck Palahniuk,
or listen to the Spill Canvas, without
nostalgic thoughts of you flooding my mind.
You taught me not to assume things but
it's hard not to assume the worst
when you were not effected,
or it just seemed that way.
It hurt to let go,
at least for me,
and I won't
forget
you.

*Amber

A glimpse into the past.

A glimpse into the past was seen
when I met him, first day at Kean.
Familiar personality,
one that had brought pain to me.

Promiscuous, but yet serene,
a glimpse into the past was seen.
Biceps bulging, short-sleeves cuffed,
I knew him not, but well enough.

Intentions not admirable,
though he was still desirable.
A glimpse into the past was seen,
he doused old wounds with his saline.

This time I won't be so naive.
The words he says, I won't believe.
Refuse to be where I have been,
a glimpse into the past was seen.

*Amber

Summer 2010.

My summer has been hot and crazy like a pot of boiling water.
Only now the days grow shorter and the sun, which plays the role of the flame beneath the pot, is ceasing to shine as brightly and intensely.
Which in turn, is causing all the molecules of summer to take a break from their excitement and simply calm down.
The only problem I find with this newfound relaxation is how dull it's becoming.
I'm beginning to dislike the fact that my only inspiration has been lack of inspiration.
I'm not asking for a rapid boil, but excitement at a simmer would be nice.
I'm off to seek a hotter flame to stir up this last week.

*Amber

Single-word Masterpiece.

There is nothing more attractive to me in this world than a man who can turn a single word into a poem.  That shows proof that he puts thought into each and every syllable he dictates and every beautiful letter that flows out of his mind and through the tip of his fine black pen.  He turns one word into a poem and I get a tiny surge of lust rush from my brain and down my core.  He follows up by reading dozens of pieces of his art, composed of thousands of words, which coming from his mouth, sends an equivalent feeling of a thousand times the reaction to his single-word masterpiece originally.  Ha.. I'd like to hear him tell me again that he doesn't tease me.

Prelude to my poetry.

I guess I'll start with the poem that kicks off my physical journal. :)
*****************

This journal's filled with poems and prose.
Nonsense to you, I would suppose.
Just words and thoughts straight from my mind,
these pages are my life, defined.
My deepest feelings are enclosed.

My works have cons and they have pros,
but mostly honesty exposed,
and at the end my name is signed.
This journal's filled...

The facts I've written no one knows,
though now my secrets are disclosed.
My creations are not refined
a full percentage of the time.
Read on and see how they're composed.
This journal's filled...

*Amber

Hello Blog?

Well, I'm very new to "blogging".. I'm looking to make this more of an online poetry journal, so a lot of the things I post in the beginning might be a few weeks old or so. Give me some time and I'll start getting things up here that were written the day they were posted. :)

*Amber