sunnyrey-blog-blog

[sunnyrey-blog-blog]

HI!! PLEASE support your local writer - ME! My book is available at Barnes and Noble dot com-AMAZON- at my publishers website at Garden Oak Press and at Create Space. Locally, you can find the book at Blue Stocking Books, Adams Ave. Bookstore and at Upstart Crow in Seaport Village :)

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My love awaits for you at dusk It's clinging to a street lamp It's wrapped around the pole It's arching and aching to be held again by you The wind sweeps down the cobble streets The cars whistle and beep But my heart stays heated and still, while waiting at dusk for it's upkeep. Remind me again the day is done And dreams of night are leased to us once more Press your nose upon my cheek Dig your lashes on my lid And let your lips be slightly wet And the air you release hint a layer of a cold draft over the warmth of your words. And lightly, oh please lightly and slow lean in and tell me again and again what I long for no other man to recite once more Like the nights possibilities We are the only writes to the ode of the next twelve hours So lets, Make it a love story Rate it X Make it raw and leave it panting out satisfied and never out of breath. Leave with me now inside twilight Inside the hues of what was always made to be marveled at.

I said that (with love)

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I think it really must.

Be

Better

Better than this 

Better than all the things I have put into a place of belonging

instead of stowed away so long in the longing.

I believe it is time to think of the inside of the box

So I can again explain to others where all the corners crept in me a reason to crawl out.

I believe it's time to stand wedged inside the hour glass, and be uncomfortable as I wait to teeter off underneath the sand inside the heavier state.

It's time for heavy.

It's time to loosen up the collar of expectation

and allow what really must be said to flow

and mourn the perks of what biting our tongues does to the complexion and glow.

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Spring.

It takes 

It takes so little 

It takes everything

While it takes so little to take.

He can get away

And he does

Get away

On oh so little

While taking it all

He says three words

Three small words

And there it goes

Out the door

Along with those words

My heart

Oh my heart

It takes 

It takes so little

It takes everything

While it takes so little to take it.

(I said that. He already left.)

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That's why.

People should care, because if they didn't

It would mean

That all the past times you allowed yourself the sweet indulgence of giving a major fuck, 

It was for nothing.

We should be kind to one another

Because we are disappearing as we currently fail to speak in the bitting of tongue to cheek.

We are loosing each other with or without the grasp

So why not just hold tight while the bending burns the breaks

We should try,

Not to prove points

But rather to stretch out and manipulate a given lot of time

and turn waste into meaning 

into breaths

into dreams

into connection 

hope

clarity that arises from doubt…

Let your friends

let all the mystic strangers

and passengers towed in life with you be

with you 

and be with them back.

Find reason for this

and if you search and find nothing

Let this be your loaner reason

Creation.

Do the way you came.

Leave the way you lived.

Be all you have ever known honestly.

Replicate the universe in which you are only a part of.

Express yourself as every living thing does.

The tree knows the one way to go

and does so without dramatics or complaining.

So go now.

Grow.

Become the height you were trusted to soar to. 

Do not cut another person, who is  depending on your shade - short.

(This is a Poem from my second Tumblr account http://thankuforthat.tumblr.com/ please follow)

[sunnyrey-blog-blog]

Anyway.

It's in the way they talked

and switched positions 

and erased time well spent 

The way the relationship takes a turn from the day

and settles into the nearest cooled off shadow 

quickening it's signals to no longer stay

It's in the way it's fleeting

in the passing of you by

In the way it tugs to remind you that it really once existed 

when you are doubled over in a low exclusive cry

It all will abandon

It all will take a little with 

It all will meet you again a few times

Towards the nearing of a cliff

Fall into them

and it

and everything

anyway

It is after all

the only way we've ever known how.

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The way I think it will be.

In the tick of a clock

landing on a new minute till now never known

In the sound of people fighting off in the distance

a breeze coming in, setting off a smacking sensation 

- the kind that really wakes you back up

inside the slow paced days

in between buildings you frequent 

and streets you forgot where and when you memorized

Ah yes

that is where the birthing midwife awaits

ready to greet all the memories that are now being written and settling in to place

in the movements of a mouth yawning

in the quirks and small unique ways ancient lovers flirt in the sun

wrapped in the nothingness

between blank night and spilled over dreams

in it all

every bit of every smallest thing.

I said that - while co-creating 

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In the middle of...

It happens that way

We'll die in the middle of sentences

Births

And along side more deaths

No matter how it happens

It won't be completely unordinary

And that makes it all the more mysterious and unique

And worth it, I suppose

We will die the same eyes shut

Then never to flutter again

We will however Not live the same

And that will make all the difference

The familiarity in our exits are to comfort us

As our individuality is spent in designing the circumstances of our days here

The ways in which we choose to fill them up

And the things we leave behind inside the ones still telling out our story after

we go

Be mindful of the tone the only author to your story,

relays every encounter and every chapter of your one and only collection of days

I said that. (in chapter 8)

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Again.

I let them in I gave too much I hung my mouth open Long enough let sit in the rust I followed through with opening up my branches and watched fall leave from the trees Overexposed now Branches to twigs Like a bird without wings They came and took the flight beneath me. I said that (after they came in)

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Castles

If I could go back I'd build us a moat To keep us protected from all we need most We are left trapped inside The ties that we needed at the time And now that we are strong We dried up and went wrong We are dust falling through some new lovers hands who Remind me of all we built just to loose Castles by the sea Swept us up off our feet Stomped back into the earth Our story never again able to show off it's struggle up to worth. I said that (buried alive)

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And then you just do it you grow up, and further away from the umbilical joy the eased smile the cheap fun the high expectations in everyone and everything to come because after enough friends die and after you watch yourself enough times, do all the things you swore you never would... after you spend enough time with every friend to watch them melt into ordinary disappointment and every lover leave pain that outlast the relationship. you start to just accept this it is with permission your body signals the letting go of the hold and the process begins the aging and the spots and the lines drawn to mock every past grin setting in like a clown that is no longer laughing painting on this deep and frightening exaggeration You become the joke. you cradle the darkness and clench on to its cloak wearing your badge of madness, as it is the only thing gone right and ride this last wave in crashing onto a shore you could care less about. like everything else you swam out to sea from you couldn't swim far enough to want to turn back so you turn your back, and feel happy being cut from everyone you'll never loose again.

I said this (after).

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I want to write. But sometimes life is so serious That it makes the words you need to use to tell the story seem so out of line. And this quiet voice inside you, tells you to "grow the fuck up" So all you can do is wait to give yourself permission to feel again and to feel so much that you out argue yourself through all the slides of offense and write pages and pages of nothing and just the act alone, will mean everything.

I said that.

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Like Neil Young's "heart of gold" Bukowskis poem "the crunch" Taco shops in San Diego And the weight and feel of your touch Some things they can't take with them They belong to the lovers that did all the falling I may never know the singer the drunk or the recipe that makes up you But I kept that brief moment The warmth of it, the stain Worn on me still From the days I thought I knew intimately everything.

I said that (the first time)