“Desirous Of Touch”

Desirous days in the sun intoxicating beauty of the night You are more than this more than the sting of a kiss But an eternity of love a circular path back to our heart Always leading us back to the spirit of you so free Bestow upon me your love your compassion for humanity Eternal

“One True Mindset”

You are honestly, truthfully, and sincerely the only thing, the only human being on my mind, all the days of my life. . . Timothy Michael DiVto c2019

“Two Hearts of Conflict”

I will die for thee with no thought for my life, plunging head long into walls of fire, as our enemies surround us. They sense our defeat, yet I sense our glorious victory, for your love strengthens me, to a height never known before. Guiding me to ecstasy of our passionate moments, thou art an

“JEALOUS”

I’m jealous of the sun, for it warms you like I should . I’m jealous of the night, for it covers you so gently.  I’m jealous of others, who get to see you, their eyes are privileged.  I’m jealous of the tears in y our eyes, they will bathe you like the rain. I’m jealous

“Something On The Wind”

The wind blows away my cries as the sun singes my suspicions, there is actually more than 9 to 5, more than taking a shower, reading the paper, fighting the non believers in of a higher spirit, in bumper to bumper traffic, to get to a job that’s endless. All this knowing you are not

“Life’s Reprisal”

It has long since gone, the sun that shined so bright. In the sky above, our souls circle the earth. A star that breathed life, into all that is alive on this earth. Once your eyes closed, the world as I knew it ended then. Now a cold Winter’s touch, lives in my once fiery

“MASTERPIECE”

Just a sketch of the imagination, visualized on gray colorless days. Dreams thought not existing in creation, simply a pastel, not yet ablaze. A water color painting in friendship, slow deliberate strokes of the unknown. An artistic taste of your red wine lips, a canvas you cannot claim as your own. A kiss lingers into

“Survivor”

No matter what grows, from a torrid fire in your soul, destruction of your heart, to the burning down of your spirit. You shall rise above, after the smoke clears eventually, You shall be standing, in the face of tremendous odds. With no hope of survival, you see the light of hopeful spirit, to regain

“My Eyes”

My eyes are closing, not just for eight hours, but for eight eternities. When they open to the heat or to an angel’s choir, is all upon my shoulders. Whether my sins are egregious or mundane, depends upon St. Peter. My eyes are weary from the apathetic visions, of an sincerely dying world. Is it

“No Rest For The Wicked”

I’m dying you know, I’m crying as the wind blows, carrying my tears to far off lands, to hearts where nobody gives a damn. Much like here, the bitterness truly tasted, that which is called life as cold blue steel, invades my weak minded thoughts. Yet for safety sake, I breathe in and out slowly,