Confusion
Coming to the brink where the mind is dazed and weak...
wondering how long will the suffering continue.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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Listening To Hear
In a world of so much noise, it is not only important to listen to the future that awaits you, but to hear the opportunities as they knock on your front door.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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Eye Of The Matrix
To look upon the problem and see what has been
solved.To look upon the unsolvable and see was
is to to be, this is what I experience every
time I see a Matrix, a matrix in my life,
but not apart of me.
Life is full of matrices, but none that i can see,
until I finally get the concept than a genius I
shall be, for now I can understand, and now I
can see the eye of the matrix that is finally
apart of me.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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The Honeymon Phase
Oh you traitorous yet wonderful friend.
Sometimes more of a fiend, but I adore you none the less.
You trickery is coning and your presence hasty,
to look upon one's eyes and experience true beauty.
I feel your coming by the pain in my stomach,
yet I ignore such agony, and make way for peace.
Once experience your addictive as you are swift,
and you always make my perception beautifully surreal,
but too surreal.
So therefore the time you take is neither false nor is it true,
neither good nor s it evil, but deceptive none the less.
Because of how you leave my mind forever amazed
I will always love you yet hate you oh traitorous honeymoon phase.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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My Violent Stalker
Violence is like the stalker that you never want to meet. You worry day and night for your inadequate greet, as you spend your life in a zone of safe conscience you realize that is not okay, for as violence can attack at any moment you still try to keep your mind at bay.
Once you are in jeopardy, the experience never leaves you for it is as deadly as mental insanity that feeds on you. You beg for the pain to escape, but linger does it do until it gets its change to finally abolish you.
Finally you survive the torment of tolerance but you wait for the next affront to conceal, to find that the pain is forever concluded, and that life, your life, is forever immortal.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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Birth Of Ecstasy
The feeling that I have is one many receive. This feeling I get whenever I contrive a simple essence of a sample that hallucinates my eyes. The feeling is a rush that have when its taken, lazy or ecstatic my body is left shaken, waiting for the next time my ecstasy is taken.
Thrills and chills I have even when its near, to harness that power it brings me, one of a rocketeer. I feel as though it is my friend even though it my seem as a frienemy, or may it is just my fiend a truly sneaky enemy. Oh ecstasy my ecstasy, why are you forbidden for me, why are you the one I want but is forbidden to see. Oh ecstasy my ecstasy you are fun for me, but we can not be for others my see what it means to be apart, or never together from the start.
Ecstasy my ecstasy this can not be our end. For this is only our beginning, the birth of my ecstasy, our relationship will extend.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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The Poet's return
So I'm back again, never thinking I'd pick back up this pen, thinking about were my life has taken me, and where will it go next. Im coming to the brink where my life is about to change forever, deciding which path is right, the one that I take or another one that I make. But yet I'm back, back with the same old outlets, back to the same old problems; a tale as old as time itself with the worries of a decade...so im back. I never thought I'd write another poem, but poetry is all around us, its in every breath you take, in every beat your heart makes, in the fluid from your veins from even the fantasies in your brain, POETRY is everywhere. The truth of the matter is poetry, just like a beat of rhyme, is everywhere. Most know it, many adore it, few idolize it, but we all show it. Because one way or another were all are going to use it, and when that day comes....oh such a beautiful vision that our minds well never lose it.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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Death Of A Dream
Dreams do not turn to dust. They simply disperse away from you, for as you are in pursuit of those dreams they seem to never come through. You try and try to but things would not say, and as you think about life, you realize how karma's a witch, and prays she stays out of your way. I try to stay way from you karma because my God is all I need, to stay focus on my dreams, and finally succeed.
I can handle the stress of trying to succeed, for my God I feel as though this is my plead, to accomplish something that I can calm as mine, so now, but eternal, that last from the end of time.
Oh lord I need help with my dreams, for with such things nothing is as it seems. Things can be hard, things may be tough, but things are never as rough as the failure of a chased dream. Oh Lord support me at my time of need because my opportunity comes as though it was a stream, because Lord I need your help so this won't be a death of a dream.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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Oh Darling, My Love
Oh darling how I love you so, from the day so old to the moonlights glow, you can into my life like a theft in the night, to discover your beauty, oh was a wonderful site. Your love is like the essence of sweetness on which I lay my head, until the glorious day when you join me in my bed. Oh darling our love is like a door which leads to our walkway of love forever more. As I wait and wait for our wonderful greeting I realized that love finally has its own meeting, to full us with the joy that comes from each other, Oh Lord such a gracious gift for one another. Oh darling how our love shines so bright to the verge where it lightens the hearts of men threw the day and night, oh darling never leave me so, for like ying and yang our love will draw us back together forever more. Oh darling My Love let nothing tear us apart for I know were meant to be, to our end from our start, oh darling my love, oh how I love you so, because our love is now eternal forever more.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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Freedom In Its Many Places
I'm on the verge of the straight and narrow, but should I die from my own arrow, for the walls of integrity are inside me, but what will it take for me to be free. I try and try until I can't try no more, for the last that I need is my freedom washed upon a shore, a shore of which is made by my own in caption, for freedom is to courage the burden of my inception. So this is my cry, this is my plea to be free from stress and integrity, to brake down the wall and see what is to see, the man in my free mirror, Me. For freedom has its many places and those many place will set me free, but the truth is a person, my Lord you'll let me be, to find my own freedom to set myself free. For I need my Lord to finally set myself free, to be the man I was made to be, scared of nothing, conqueror of all, the man people look upon to call, to call so they may be free, so I can look upon my mirror and finally see the man I am, and was always suppose to be, free for all to see, Me.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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