One Day You Won’t Recognize Me | Poetry Remix No. 45

I sense one day you won’t recognize me.
They say to remember where you came from.
But I say sometimes change is meant to be:
To march to the beat of a different drum.

One day you won't recognize me
Photo by Yudi Indrawan on Unsplash

But only a still small voice inside knows
the rhythm of life soon to be composed.

I Thought You Were Dead

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

I Thought You Were Dead | Short Poem No. 111

They wheeled you out and I thought you were dead;
Your hospital bed mirrored a casket.
I ducked down and dropped my lips to your head.

I thought you were dead
Photo by S L on Unsplash

This season, I lost two people I love.
Appeals go up, if I’m able to ask it,
not to take this third soul, too, up above.

I Write in my Grave

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

I Write In My Grave | Short Poem No. 110

I write where I passed. . . I write in my grave.
I write in passing. . . there’s naught I can save.
Writing can sometimes rekindle my gall.
Can writing sometimes rekindle a crawl?

Would you ditch me here in this tomb to rot?
You observed me carefully mark my spot.
I sunk in sin, duped by a false lover.
What love grants you to die for another?

I write in my grave
Photo by Josh Miller on Unsplash


I grew in sin, became a false lover.
False love robbed you of me to another.
What’s reckless, what’s not. I deserve it all.
But cautious love will seize me when I fall.

I lie in my grave. . . I whisper your name. . .
Remind myself that love’s always the same.

Sometimes, My Only Friend

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

Sometimes, My Only Friend | Poetry Remix 41

I hide in music. . . sometimes, my only friend.
Or poems, with my second friend, a pen.
They ease me to shut my eyes. . . drift away.

Your love for me is clear in lucid words.
But when you’re missed, there’s no words for the hurt.
Sometimes, solitary, I weep alone.

Please take away the way I feel, I pray. . .
Please take away this pain, every day. . .
Take away the way. . . take it all away. . .

sometimes, my only friend
Photo by Mak on Unsplash

I hide in the shadows, under your wings.
I hide when I muse too much about things.
But you’re always here, and that’s what consoles. . .

Will My Heart Bleed Through Pen?

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

Will My Heart Bleed Through Pen? | Poetry Remix 38

Today, anew, will my heart bleed through pen?
I thought I omitted these notions from my head.
My heart’s ajar on sheets I mark. . .
Paper cuts. . . pierce through me like a dagger.

Memories prick under calloused skin.
In hardened souls, feelings still run thin.
You will own my heart spilt on this paper.
And in quiet, you’ll perceive my whisper.

will my heart bleed through my pen
Photo by Kevin Mueller on Unsplash

I feel it leave. . expressions from my heart.
This release recalls emotional hurt.
Should I stop? Leave my hardened heart behind?
Tomorrow will tell. . If I’ll write next time. . .

I Crave to Kiss You

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

I Crave to Kiss You | Poetry Remix 35

Let’s commence right way – I crave to kiss you.
Let’s not conceal; let’s just get right to it.
Because I know you crave to kiss me, too.

Your perfume allures me from the hall.
Every tread of stairs – we get near to it.
Every tread of stairs – hearts begin to fall.

I Crave to Kiss You
Photo by The Creative Exchange on Unsplash

As I open the door, lip meets with lip.
You’re my world and everything in it.
Two bound, to galaxies, we slowly drift. . .

The First Time This Week

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved. Posted on WordPress.com.