Various thoughts that fit Together in my Untamed Mind

Pretty girl, sitting there, gazing wide, looking fair.

I know you see it, I do too, the art from God, the voice of truth.

The problem is, you know it’s true, we’ve come from heaven with work to do.

I know my calling, know it fine, called to live my life divine.

By God who judges, He who speaks, the One who whispers my heart to sleep.

I know you want it, want it bad, knowledge of this so makes me sad.

For it’s not quite me of which you want, nor my heart, nor my cock.

But you want the dwelling bruise, the heart that aches, the lasting blues.

I’ll say it simply for some ears – the truth hurts me, the truth you fear.

For when she longs and so “Wants you,” all she wants is the pursuit.

Give her mystery, give her myth, a taste of wrong, a hint of bliss.

Her one true goal is to have you chained, but once she does, you’ve lost the game.

– Thomas M. Watt

I Need to Be

Feel your stare your absent glare your want of knowing what’s in there,

Know you sought to know me through, I’ve got not much to say to you.

I’m sorry girl but don’t you see these thoughts have got the best of me.

Would rather here some more ’bout you like what it is you want to do.

Tired of the thoughts of me, tired of wanting, needing sleep.

Say to me the things unsaid the things most folks so often dread.

You know the words the rhythmic blues the fear of saying just what is true.

I know you feel it ’cause I do to, I know just what is plaguing you.

But don’t you see the vision’s free the only way to ecstasy.

You hear me spinning words like that, that’s just to get you on your back.

No I’m kidding, joking please. Don’t mean to make you quake you knees.

Ah nice slap that hurt a bit I’m sorry girl I cannot quit.

Sometimes the way these thoughts expel like flagrant breaths through quiets yells.

Baby girl it’s back to you, tell me so I feel them too.

Don’t ask me what, you know the answer, it’s penned inside your heart’s disaster.

Show me pain and misery I’ll show you mine but for a fee.

I swear it tears me up inside, pulls my heart out, leaves me dry.

Please don’t go there, please don’t please, please just see I need to be.

Not quite trying, nothing cares, here’s the secret I’d like to share –

Hold your moans your throbbing chest, you cannot let me get the best.

Oh quit trying to play me please it’s all a game until you weep.

Sorry girl, you have to know, the thoughts own me I have to go.

– Thomas M. Watt

Feel It Tear

Pain inside is justified,

loss of much always resides,

on the bottom,

feeling grim,

trying hard to rise and win.

So much loss too much to take,

feel my days fall down like rain.

Every time I see that tumble every time I look I crumble.

Cannot watch this sport I played,

cannot enjoy a single day,

feel so much rage in me can’t feel your touch it’s too much sting.

Why oh why oh why oh God, tried so hard and feel so scorned. Not one can see the things I do, not one can bring my arm from ruin.

Let me breath and blink and smile, let me enjoy this cough a while.

I will get up I will go on I will still try to sing good songs.

Just take this wind and fly with me, take me through these painful springs.

Let me ignore the past I hate, let me go on this life of fate.

Raise me up to blue skies please, don’t let me lose to hands of thieves.

– Thomas M. Watt

(Illustration by Ayse Juaneda, the greatest artist in the world. Visit her blog for more incredible artwork – http://aysejuaneda.wordpress.com/

Bitter’s Steed Walks Slow

Painful thoughts you sit and stew,

Badening memories come from you.

Hate the way you torment me, pry my brain with more longing.

Silent peace at once forgotten, flying angels seem like a concept.

Twisting neurons firing greed, winding my brain to selfish need.

Walking with my head down low, know where I’ve gone and where I’ll go.

Convinced at once with thoughts of doom, reflected by the grey clouds gloom.

Turning pain within my speak, writhing anguish churns in me.

So much loss with cost unknown, too much absence for hope to grow.

Leave me run from bitter’s steed, I have to breathe my soul to ease.

– Thomas M. Watt