webs we weave.

My heart’s split in a thousand threads,
yet
each wicked twine spins new sorrow..

Unraveled minds,
leaving behind
a broken shell..

The house of pain.

The home of truth.

The bed of despair.

Is this the cocoon for me to own?

Wrapped in wrath?
To bloom in hate??

Or does pressure squeeze magnificent stones?
Birth immovable anatomy?
Found internal fortresses?

Yes it is true, I cannot shield
YOUR pain,

YOUR anguish..

But maybe I can knit a new narrative.

Stitch a new standard.

Patch renewed passion,

in those who choose to thread
beyond dread

and

lace new faith

in those who choose to believe

beyond belief..

-Sage

 

©2018 SagePoetry. All Rights Reserved.

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Reflections

So much to hate.

So much to love.

 

So much to feel..

 

So little time,

Such little patience.

 

So many ills..

 

Somebody cares.

Somebody doesn’t.

 

Nobody deals..

 

Life isn’t perfect.

Life isn’t fair.

 

But life is real..

 

So think that,

 

look in the mirror,

 

and see what’s looking back..

 

-Sage

 

©2018 SagePoetry. All Rights Reserved.

simple snares

Idle words in the dead of the night,

 

fiend response 

in unGodly hours.

 

“whatever” can fix these fits..

 

as long as it comes quick..

 

So he pours slow

when pitted with these pangs for pleasure.

 

You know he rather feel emotion by the liter..

 

Just dirty habits of a hollow heart,

still itching with temptation..

 

But, in truth,

he fiends control 

and sinks in his shortcomings.

Yet

so eager to see 

just how far 

this rabbit hole goes..

-Sage

 

©2018 SagePoetry. All Rights Reserved.

The Jedi

I was a star before books had answers

in a galaxy far beyond these bars and stanzas.

Molding novas into ink to tame flames of an enflamed brain, breaking the cells thats barring me..

Such routine is boring me.

So I’m alien to the concept of your world

cuz I live in fantasies of making ’em reality..

 

So

notebook space

is the only place that I call home.

 

At least until this carbon decides to copy the rest,

in peace..

 

Then I’ll be a free man,

no longer fighting this fire with fire

 

and no longer taking such pains

in vain.

 

-Sage

 

©2018 SagePoetry. Rights Reserved.

Broken

I let the ink roll…

 

and stain pearl pages

to purge curved rages

that really relish in the venom thats been

soiling my soul.

 

no.

I let the ink roll…

 

and stain pearl pages

for brilliant explanations

on what troubles I hold.

 

no.

I let the ink roll,

 

and stain pearl pages

for the hazards that I’m faced with

and the grit it takes to make it..

 

Too sullied with grief

to wade in patience.

 

Impatient.

 

So sullied,

my grief

gradually grates my greatness..

 

Degrading.

 

I don’t know…

 

I think I let the ink roll,

 

and stain pearl pages

to mark these traces

of hope

in hopes that it never gets mistaken.

 

-Sage

 

©2018 Sage Poetry. All Rights Reserved.

Sleeping Dragons

The best dreams

have been laid in accord

by the assembly line antics

that scramble the brain frantic…

 

So,

thats another one

 

that fell captive to reason.

 

And

that’s another one

 

shackled by logic.

 

All the while,

dormant dreams lie

 

unaware of their freedom.

 

All the while,

dormant dreams lie

 

unaware of false knowledge.

 

But you can’t bottle the fire

ignited with passion.

 

But 

you can channel the fire

making the magic…

 

Because failure is a myth

if opportunity is a gift…

 

So, awake to take what’s yours.

 

-Sage

 

©2018 Sage Poetry. All Rights Reserved.

Midwest Blues

I’m just a midwest playa,

gaming to gain hues.

 

In the green or red sense,

whatever the game choose..

 

That means

I’m in it to win it,

minute to minute,

I cant lose

not a second’s progression

in the direction that I’ve viewed.

 

My third eye’s blind to mirages of fair systems.

 

My third eye’s open to visions of clear victims.

 

And I’m not a fan of not giving a damn..

So I rather make a stand before taking the stands…

 

So my token of admission is knowing the difference.

Knowing I’m built for the league,

knowing I shape the conditions..

Cuz these vices I’m living, have given room to improve

for a midwest playa

who still competes with the blues.

-Sage

 

©2018 Sage Poetry. All Rights Reserved.