I' am poet with autism and dyslexia so psl forgive the grammar I will go back and edited at some point
I gradated from cleveland community college working on rank top 10% of community colleges.
My poems have multiple meaning i plan to do audio of a specific genre in the near future and google Louis Borgo and a specific poem you never know what interesting facts you ... more »
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Louis Borgo Poems
All A Dream
a song of purification rip her lips, like thunder on a mountain, that whisper oh listen... thoughts of passion,
'I need it cold' (how cold) , so cold that i can't feel my neck caps! ! ! , I need it so cold i forget this touch of a feeling. Like the tracks of a huskie sparkling of crystal, clear so clear of a mountain i need it cold! ! ! , Like hand of a shuttle, settle free, empty barrels, like the softest place on earth.... of dropp of rain on the back of the porch....
Moon Said To The Sun
Moon said to the Sun, Have you ever heard of a rising of a; Son. Rising; like no other dynasty a sure sight to watch.
True Dear Friend
I do not wish to become bibilical but this text require careful wording, what is a true friend with a kindom of wolfs and over sheperd by demons, wait is this ficition, eyes that hold shelter to black skull to a new up rising, birds that hymn that heal with whistles of love of crimes, that is all on film or maybe we all are guest, looking for gravity. Everyman is made different so a silly superstition would say but what would true making of a man, take pain and the up most rooting of lost land, mimic it as quick sand, we start to man and fan to tans and this here eyes are a shame to cry because who is left here to a dress man but a man.
Queen of Heaven (Message in a Bottle)
If the twelve of night was a castle of light's, this be the latern, to bless tommorow's light, Sight be the reason why you sparke this night. (till dust till dawn)
Dear Luv, I write to stop this pedals of tears, Far from falling over, Never the less this,
As the wind blows the sun is surely to come, and sweep you off you re feet, Passive as the night to carry us to our sweet,
The Right Tear Of A Mountain Tear
The right; tear of a mountain tear, A portrait of a landscape years of tactile up rise, Seeing is, believing an alpinist had ties to tithes of a higher life.
Sight by day raid by night how could this two things be so a like Mounted by pain torn by decision but reflection the same night But see to know right but never to question the road to a map How destiny a line as day to night
Girl Next Door
Question Have you ever seen a woman you like blush, now that is attractive I never reallie understand woman in till I got out of school It was this one girl that for some reason like natural selection I would just stare at
To grow and witness and understand the meaning of a Virtue Woman is to be told To be raise to learn of a woman worth and instead of taking from the meaning
I am of man of flesh of blood of you my dear lord For the reception of strength and health a prayer for today Vengeance set apathy man I am do not seek such a wrath And I know I may only speak for myself but a heath in the night The weather warns us to take shelter
my young brothers
young brother young brother i see we are close to cross that mountain, no matter your age orgin or color, or creed. i consider you my young brothers, giving, the time... young brother young brother as generation evaluation, we all need a helping hand, can we see to have peace, i know im just of coming, but seeing this horror made me write for kin, dear brother my brother words are all we can share, by that can we nurture to make peace, i am not that of, of a man lacking wood, but would you like to hear my full story?
A Man Eater She Was
Mom warn me of girls like you but I didn’t listen, You was out to search and destroy, A sheep with wolf clothing, How did you manage to keep the disguise? Wait I have the answer.
Comments about Louis Borgo
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
All A Dream
a song of purification rip her lips,
like thunder on a mountain,
that whisper oh listen...
thoughts of passion,
past my window
that thumb like red hill and paul,
let me be your intervention,
breath of sinking ships stomping out my breath,
amber of shield,
that gave me my own free will,
I'm am here,
the power of such search light that
clash with the night,
oh were are you? ,
but no sign of my dear
the sun have start to pray on the night,
soon it be sun rise but where is my dear
as seconds turn to hours and ...