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Holding the Obsessions of Love & Death
Holding the Obsessions of Love & Death
Holding the Obsessions of Love & Death
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Holding the Obsessions of Love & Death

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Angels and demons pray on humanitys obsessions for love, affection and longing for death!
Holding the obsessions of love and death, is a dark, yet sorrowful look inside the minds; primitive and clouded paths, where instincts and innocence come together to highlight the duality of a deeply scared soul.
This gorgeous poetry collection will encourage your mind to wonder a place that only the mad and gifted know, with its use strong imagery, and innovative word play, it will truly captivate those who are in love with love, or those who wish to take a gentle look at the dark obsessive minds seen in the media.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateJul 29, 2014
ISBN9781496926463
Holding the Obsessions of Love & Death
Author

Michael Irizarry

Michael Irizarry works in fashion retail and is an award-winning poet. He is a member of the poetry society of America; the lead editor of Fames poets has commented his work and goes on to say. “Michael Irizarry is a rising star, in the arts and I predict the artistry of this fine poet will enrich the lives of poetry lovers for generations to come!” Michael loves powerlifting and enjoys reading about werewolves and other shape shifters on his spare time. Michael lives In Bronx New York with his dogs Dixie Fay & Spike.

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    Holding the Obsessions of Love & Death - Michael Irizarry

    AuthorHouse™ LLC

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.authorhouse.com

    Phone: 1-800-839-8640

    © 2014 Michael Irizarry. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse    07/28/2014

    ISBN: 978-1-4969-2647-0 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4969-2646-3 (e)

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Thank you to my inspirational executioners, Stephanie, Jennifer and Christina. My heart will always be in flames for you. As this invisible pup will always love you.

    1. How can you see the emotions of love, which revolve around the hatred of this betrayed soul, to set this heart free by pounding on it with a 30-pound sledge and chisel and melt the stone pillars of ice that live within. Question those who live among the winds, as they wave past the bloody rose, and ask why it only blows for me too bring, the thorns, and puncture wounds in my mind. Remembering why I still adore my betrayer and open a new chapter into which I am sane and loving, to her my utmost angel.

    2. In a world of pain, its almost numbing to the bone when looks and left over reasons can leave shivers down the spine and ice in your heart. you stop and wounder about you and what you want to know, you want to stop the lies but overall you just want to know that your loved. You want to be released, you want to go up instead of down, in a world where you hate yourself. you stop and think about the countless nobodies that follow or the ones in the way. Nevertheless, sometimes you find peace in your obsessions, but when it lifts, it leaves tears in your heart that cannot be released.

    3. Cut my fingertips off and stuff them in my heart, as brittle as it is then shove it back down my throat. Until it hits the stomach and boils into a cinder and then freeze me until my soul meets his prison where faith can’t be reached. The prison of prisons; the prison of the forgotten. Forget the frozen man in his cage, but listen to his heartbeat as it slows and fills full of sorrow turning black like a cigarette-filled lung. Moving into the veins turning them the color of night and his blood, the deepness of an arctic blue like a new moon on a starless one while lost in the same night. I try to remember what it is like to be that frozen man. And how am that broken and always will be, set in his stone cage at the center of golden roses.

    4. As black ash covers a broken heart, one can only feel like hope and love are no more. forgotten then lost, in one hated world, for ones praise applies to a Savior, but for now it is best to hate them more than you actually love them because crisis has won this game, because if love is truly forever. I am internally doomed to suffer in a cold field, of frostbitten roses ready to break and burn under solitude.

    5. Bless my soul, break my heart and turn it and black, feel my eyes cold as ice, burn through your skin and please don’t let me fall because I wish I had you in my arms, letting my mind set a blaze and freeze me out forever. Ti amo my love, and let my smile warm your heart and lets fly away into the light, or just leave me be in solitude, but before I do let me taste your sweet lips at least once.

    6. Bleeding angels in the sun fall, into a river and black hearts, wondering where the ashes of their wings had fell. Remembering that I have wished fallen angels could speak with the broken heart I wear on my shoulder. So that every time the wind blows, I pray I don’t know what the heart is for because pain runs like blood though my Veins, and every time a new cut is endured there’s hope that some of the poison would leak out into the waters to be cleansed.

    7. Dreams that set you a blaze bring new hope to the broken, and site to the blind, bringing reality. For love in reality hurts more, then love in a fantasy in spite of the belief between two hearts. For as time goes on. I have hope that the friendship that was lost and can be regained and set into harmony to meet dreams and hope. So that they may come true and forge a rock friendship.

    8. Just the sadness in her eyes as she walked away, and the chill I get when, I am reminded of myself. Just the thought of a mutual feeling even if no words are spoken between us, we still hit one in the in same, and even though my sorrow has taken its toll. I Still have a feelings of not giving up, because we can get though anything and more if we to stand together. – For forgiveness I hope, could he granted.

    9. like lips to a peach

    Like diamonds twinkling in the midnight Sky,

    Like twilight, like a brunet angel on a cloud,

    I want to be like a southern breeze and kiss you on my way around

    Your neck, I want to learn your heart inside and out.

    10. For angels that could never repay their wings to enter what they have forgotten, weather it is closeness in the forbidden peace, of a red rose, the color of cherry lips. After obscenities, of dalliance with the present time after it leaves you waiting for the one that has your true world in there pocket. Looking to see if there’s a reflection in the mirror that was painted black in the mitts of a blue sun. That puts the waters of the world to shame, and causes pain. It shears holes through the center of your body even if there is no light. To shine though all ten thousand broken hearts and leads to detest the coming of rain in the love soaked horror of a blood red moon.

    11. Just thinking about the place where I began to question my loyalty’s to my heart. Where the Spaces of unacquainted love seems to blur as if the repetition of the repeating phrase, time is truly a lie, just one of the many lies that man has to endure. To the surprise of delivering pain, along with the sharpness of the blade, I cut all feelings out of my life or the poisonous pride that I hate. Like bleeding in a green sky filled with the raging angels of the pack that I lead though the world of the dark ones and the forgotten Souls. in the world where rain may hit the skin and feel like Dragon’s fire into exploding pain to the death of doubt. I wish I had the ability cry like rain, and all men die from tensions of the heart.

    12. Why? Is always the question when your hearts ripped out. You learn to hate jealousy and possessive intent, that pears from a dried out River as if losing your best friend is not enough, guessing that solitude of a stone cold life is always where I should be knowing I have a no place among my Brothers in the sky. As if the priest lost in the world of the dead and lonely like the speaking dog that I am, the abandoned puppy lost in a puddle of his owe tears. Realizing that he was a waste and of Gods precious time

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