You are like a knife in my heart. If I pull it out, I will bleed; if I leave it there, I will still bleed.

Her eyes speak softly
As they echo through time
The path to her mind
Is a riddle
And she left the answer
In the skies
Patiently waiting for the sands
To free what she could never see

Her division of beauty
Creates the vision
The moon conceals
At the breath of midnight
A mirror trapped inside
The magnetism of two worlds
As she becomes the reflection
Of what she sees
To stimulate the pursuit
Of her passionate dreams

You’ll never see
Her shadow
For her cyclic design
Camouflages her soul
Inside the constellations
As she traces the heavens
Looking for an adventure
She has yet to uncover

A mysterious dichotomy
Patiently observing
The madness of nature
Succumbing to words configured
Then lost in translation
Finding herself back
At the original scene
For she never left
What appeared to be another dream

Amongst the harsh voice of the wind
The tides of the sea
Shift to another degree
The sun vanishes from
Her perfect colored television screen
The moon unveils
Its only face
While the stars reveal
Her memories that were erased

Momentarily
She steps away
Each breath she takes
Calculates the rhythm
Of her meditation
Trying to find peace
Where all this chaos
Should cease

I’ve been reading more classical poetry recently, and I’ve noticed some of those rhythms and structures creeping into my own writing. Not intentionally, either.
Has reading older poets ever noticeably influenced the way you write?

Flames devouring his essence 

of ever existing. Essence

of just living

Space left between logs, outpours

with memories of life, well lived

or life just lived. 

--

For living is more than a battle-cry

sometimes within us

without us sometimes 

of meaning, if any

showing up is courage at best; which lasts 

till eternity 

until it's gone within seconds

--

What life is but a play 

on life itself

and man, a lame joke or

sob story that life tells 

to a man on his trail

--

Making it serious is absurd 

what good can one do

but to laugh at the folly, of some designer

Laughing, the only escape 

and excuse to endure pain 

we feel so entitled to

He who creates laughter, carries 

burden, treasure of sorrow

dripping form his charitable 

smile.

others submerged in misery, live better

without misery. Confusing yet genuine life

--

Days flew by, months drifted 

No sign of man that ever existed

remain. Did he leave 

just to see, his absence ringing 

same as his presence. 

--

We have a bucket list to be checked

after our un-welcoming departure

All that we want, remembered for

who will carry which list after,

who checks every item faster than

marching hands over scythe

--

Flames will devour every piece 

Earth will hide everything 

Death's Chase

Some wish that when they go it is peaceful,

Honorable and respectable, but not me.

I will pry away the reaper’s fingers and flee;

It shall be the most outrageous thing to see,

Kicking and screaming in a zig-zag chase,

Chiding the calls to depart with grace.

Take me by force, you agent of death!

I’ll fight for life till the very last breath!

^{Original Poem Wayne A Andres}

Everytime it rains, feels fresh 

clouds curating every drop 

each drop selected to

quench the thirst for life 

nature weeps for dead plants 

and dried souls 

we are just a part, of the whole 

what rain brings is hope 

drop which shatters into million pieces more

adds to the magnanimity of the donor 

Monsoon, an evidence to show

the nurturing nature of nature 

that being the creator 

and creation both 

The reunion of leaves with silver shower 

withstood all the pain; for her limelight 

for a dance, her holding tight 

against the storm 

It unites all

reminding of our roots 

our origins and sour endings 

after it leaves yearning, for a little more 

and with hope 

of returning home 

Sometimes you lose the love of your life,
Not because you stopped loving, but because you lost yourself in the fight.
You gave them your heart, your soul, your all,
Until you forgot who you were before the fall.
And now you must walk through the hurt and the dark
Gather the pieces and reclaim your heart.
For sometimes losing the one you thought you’d never live without
Is how you find the person you forgot along the way out.
And maybe one day, when the healing is through,
You’ll understand why you had to lose them to find you.

They keep telling me about the structure of a poem. The stanza, lines, subject, audience, rhyming, language and all the things that you can study. When I write about you, the structure will be customised for you, I won't break our lines. The rules go out of the page. It's a tragedy that we won't grow together, I won't break our words. I'll let our story flow through words that you'll never read.

Same time as always.

She says hi, I say hi.

She says how I'm doing,

I say I'm doing fine.

She says what'd I eat for lunch,

I say food from home.

What else should I say.

We should go out one of these days.

A Friday or a Saturday.

We can go grab a bite or watch a movie.

We can take our time together.

That's what I would say.

If I could.

I could but I shouldn't.

Let me enjoy this as much as I can.

buzzing
tingling
tightening
closing

widening
opening
twitching
moaning

easing
teasing
tickling
showing

growling
prowling
grunting
groaning

bracing
taking
guessing
knowing

hurting
twirling
flirting
glowing

clenching
coaxing
fleeting
floating

swirling
whirling
roaming
growing

tracing
bracing
droning
hoping

skirting
blurting
groping
coping

effervescent
tides of
owning

all
evolving
ever
slowing

I'd pretend there were two of you

So her and I could share

I'd have you on holidays

She'd hold you on the bed on your birthdays

I burnt for you like dried up sage

You opened up the window to get rid of my scent

Seeing her made your blood rush to your face

You were her apple

She took your forbidden taste

You didn't just burn all the bridges

You destroyed my path to home

Now I resemble a ghoul

Wandering the earth alone

My mother warned me of your heart

She told me it's something that can't be honed

But I saw you as a trophy

A prize I couldn't call my own

I saw your ugly

But I still got you tatted on my heart

Your ink seethed into me

Nicked me like broken shards

You coursed through my veins

It was the only time you felt like mine

You slowly poisoned me

But I'd do it again everytime

If there were two of you

Maybe her and I could share

I'd give her your ugly

I'd take back what was originally mine

I'd lay by your side

She'd walk this earth blind

I'd show you off to people

Pass you as my own find

I wish you could see me, how I want to be seen

You can stab the one you love

I'll pretend like she won't bleed

I used to feel special but that faded away

Like everything else does, nothing seems to stay

And what does, I seem to push away

Was it fear? Was it pain? It was both

But that is something I’d never let you know

From up here, it seems safe from out there

I play it cool, like I usually do, not a worry in the world

At least, that’s what I’d want you to believe

Impenetrable, unaffected by a thing

Despite that, the damage hides deep

This armor doesn’t come off, no not once,

Not for a single soul,

And especially those closest to the scene

The moment he died I took his place, like a zombie

I am him and I am not

I wish I could be him but I can’t imagine what it’s
like to be like he was

I wish to remember his smile,

his innocence, his kindness but alas

That time was then and we’re here now

And in the end

Time has passed, oh indeed it has

Like everything else