P.S. I Love You Poems of P.S. Colley

Epitaph as I look to you...... seeing nothing but a horrid habit shaken, that redundant scenario, scenario of some solemn, shimmering star, hope grasped deep, desperately onto somewhere where autumn's torrid skies burn no more brilliance  from its searing, mind blinding sunlight. as I speak to you...... speaking nothing but a faded whisper forsaken that emits an eerie, ear soar echo,      echo of its cruel, low cawing crow,   hope draft drifted, willingly winged into somewhere where summer's lover lies tell tallest tales   from its bitter nectar dripping lips. as I die in you....... dying nothing but a virgin vessel taken, that loss tosses, a mere token, broken, broken by its soul devoted to loneliness, hope flung, clung to its one only self into somewhere where winter's snowy disguises beckon a reckoning  from its frigid tombstone iced in sorrow. ~P.S. Colley~          c. 2026  

A Collection of Mother's Favorites Wounds Mommy, get a band-aid. I fell and skinned my knee. Mommy, please spank Tommy. He took a stick to me. Mommy, I have a toothache. Please don't pull it out. Mommy, you make my ears hurt. Why must you always shout? Mommy, are you listening? Mommy, can't you hear? Mommy, can't you see I'm hurt? Look Mommy, Here's a tear. ~P.S. Colley c. 1978 Until I met him.......... I never knew a block of wood could be so many things. I never knew a tab top could be a diamond ring. I never knew a mattress could be a trampoline. I never knew that little men lived behind the screen. I never knew a piece of rope could be a rattlesnake. I never knew a pile of mud could be a chocolate cake. I never knew a shadow could be a monster's home. I never knew that white shampoo caused the ocean's foam. I never knew that bunnies lived in tops of trees. I never knew a little boy could think as much as he...... Until I met him. ~P.S. Colley For Jas...

 Salvation Weary, I meander prayer whispering,  on rambled wasteland trails haunted by hard-hearted         and hateful half-truths that stealthily stalk the unhealthy soul. I perch on silent tiptoe's hope, teeter on restless terrains to wrestle sanity and regain some solid ground of peace. Trial's tumultuous tirade, tantrum  of a demonic whirlwind, spins a myriad of shadowy sins, to tempt and lead away brainchildren born to be orphaned by some stoic, egoic maniac. In man's world, I can only mope, hoping to somehow  miraculously cope with some pretend savior that shall  eventually forsake me. Teary, my eyes trickle onto paths of woeful wanderings  and bleed their unhealed sorrow, undaunted by lean, mean,  feigned-pain smiles.  Ripped with fright, bursting into nightmare screams, peace  seeks solace in rescue's slumber, and lumbers los...

    Serpent's Entry Hissing his uncaged wrath, his tory's serpent by His rejection sad enraged, his  divine soul no more, first-born beaten to his exile enslaved. His estranged heart unleashed, by his proud imprisoned intent, harbors  his vision of himself, harmed and wounded, sorely bent, unarmed twisted, he hisses for his startled victim dazed  to sit in fear of his beguiling glance, intensely entranced, engaged. His own feigned pain drowned, drenched in sin, remains his deception, unscathed. No brave servant dare meet his stare alone without purest power's fury to face his  fiendish, fanged face that recognizes neither compassion, nor mercy. His armor scaley, outcast polished, shines like sharpest shards of glass, as his tongue tastes scents of innocence, bound on his belly, he slithers past. No timid servant dare step forth resisting his lone restrictive threat to breathe death in his dreaded deadlock that squeezes to steal each breath. U...

    Pixeled People Mankind left for lost in time behind the confines  of a screen-pixeled portrait. Each within one squared box,  unintended to interlock,     square-bound in timeless bondage,  They cry for a more merciful trait: o ne chance to break the bonds  of their forlorn hunger That feeds their starving state, an insatiable  craving for a bit of more,  first for another's mortal, tender touch,   then for themselves a bit too much.  Tabs and inter jambs denied,  no limbs for connecting, no holding of one another no more forever, together... Each withering within, without connection, to another hand to grasp... to another ear to hear ... to another heart to feel. Paralyzed within eternal life's puzzled perplexity, they deny themselves emotion, they cry away each day's devotion, they die alone, a love-starved empty box.            ...

  Prisoners Death clasps bitter to cold steel solid bars,  Stares captured, marked on stark stone walls, Hallway shadows of every man drag shame the same,  Parading stripes through half-lit halls. Meals, though shared, are times to dare not speak,  Or touch, to just leave others alone. Forever nights stalk fleeting restless naps  Plagued by damp-drowned brittle bone. Are derelicts better buried deep in a cheap pine box,  Or ashes strewn across a hateful sea, Instead of caged in their timeless nightmare rage, Forced to face cruel humanity? Thoughts haunt, "To punish, society denies."  "Justice unseen is blind, unfair, unkind." "Isn't each child born to grow up to be free,  To learn to choose to speak sound mind?" But if one's choice is deemed wrong for mankind,  Then choosers pay a merciless price, Hidden caged because judgements that reel to say,  "They are bound to fall away twice." Collapsed lumps on foul filth-worn mattresses, ...