Yesterday, the day before, this whole week,
without talking to you.
Today, as well, I wont get to
I'll be coming home somewhat late.

I adore the words
"Samira has entered"
its like the sun just came up,
or my soul just found Christ.

Maybe...I'm wrong,
it could be that I just love you to much.
but I believe that you complete me
you fill that abiss of sadness.

Ah, my love, why were you born?
to love me without end?
Your holy mission, the reason for life,
Could it be you were born for me?

And why do I live for you?
You've pasted your smile on my heart,
Imprinted the words of love on the air
that no one else can hear but us.

To what end will we love?
Until the poets forget their words?
Until presidents and kings realize their wrong?
I want to love you until the soul loses its religion.

Poems, words, thoughts,
help with this distance between us,
Still what I want more,
is to feel your kiss in my life.

Olsen W. Potter

Passion, like a flower
blooms when I think of you.
Not you on the phone, not you online,
but the real you, the flesh that my body desires.

Deep inside my very soul,
lies a beast, a wonder
that thrives on thoughts of you,
I try to feed him as often as I can.

Can you hear him?
Screaming to be let out.
I can barely control him in public
when at home, he runs free, heat and love combined in my mind.

Then you enter...
the beast goes wild.
He sings your love like a song of thousand years that
floats across time and land to touch your tender heart.

You speak,
it tames him.
He only stays quite to listen, harkening to your words
his very life force thrives upon such moments, as when you say
I love you.

Waiting, he sits inside my chest
where no one can see but me
and you, when I release him.
This desire of love that overcomes me.

He doesn't sleep. Rather he projects in my mind
images of you, sleeping, working, loving,
He obesses over the little things,
he wants me to do to you.

He's the poet, not I.
I can not write such words of devotion,
He spends the day debating sounds and words
that can convey this deep emotion.

Oh how he loves you, my sweet
He loves the taste of honey that your spirit gives to him.
He's my soul, my spirit, my heart, my all,
he's your's for the taking, please take!

I long for when I can release him
in touch, in love first kiss.
He begs and cries for that moment
when our lips will meet in god's bliss.

I warn you, He is not tame
a tiger... his teeth sharp with desire
He bites your heart with poems and words
A firm grip he has, he won't let go.

Please take him, accept him as he is!
Nothing else can sooth him, but for your sweeping fingers
caressing his restless love for you.
Please, dont make him wait any longer.
Please, dont make him wait...

Driving today,
a friend saw me
I looked like a rocker
she said
maybe because I need a shave.

Class, well it's ok
I wish I could just get it over with
like some pregant rock heaved upon my back I carry around my work
Crazy, Psyctic, and Mad
are really the only words for it.

My mother is sick
breathing through tubes
that twist and turn until they create a mask that I can't see through
to kiss my mother on the forehead and tell her
she'll be alright.

Negetive is a big word,
sincere maybe?
a little dark perhaps
Its hard to let the sunshine through when your covered by the dark clouds of a storm.

I'm devouring my book
I'm a monster when it comes to reading
my hand like machine turn the pages,
while my eyes,
huge round lasers,
scan the page and swallow all that black print.

Ah, let the books like rivers flow,
into my mouth and brain!

A friend saw me driving today
she said
I looked like a rocker
little did she know,
I was listening to Brazil...

Oh give me back my heart so dear,
and my love that I may hear,
the voice inside that gives me joy
and leads me in my rightful track.

My love for all was once strong,
and now it is but small and gray,
I wish that things hadn't been this way,
but doubt destroys the truest heart.

Oh give me back that heart of mine,
that I may see its life fulfilled.
Thy tongue is soft,
thy journey long,
but give me back this heart of mine.

Olsen W. Potter

Sometimes when I'm walking
I close my eyes
I close my eyes to change my surrondings
to something pleasant.
You, of course, are always there
with your smile.
Usually its in a forest, or at least some trees
I sit on the ground.
I can hear a lake somewhere near
lapping sounds abound.
I hold your hand while I sit
you squeeze it sometimes.
Then I open my eyes and it all goes away,
this wasteland of love
fills my eyes.

Olsen W. Potter

Let it be me;
the one in your dreams;
Let it be me;
your first love,
Let it be me;
that occupies your thoughts,
Let it be me;
the one you want to marry.

Let it be me;
the one who takes away your pain.
Let it be me;
your confidentant,
Let it be me;
the one you always kiss,
Let it be me;
your one great love.

Let it be me;
no one else,
Let it be me;
the one you think about when you sleep,
Let it be me;
when you shower, the one in your imagination,
Let it be me;
your first Man.

Let it be me;
always me,
Let it be me:
your love.

Olsen W. Potter

You were dancing in your yellow dress
red and blue lights reflected in your eyes.
I was wearing black,
such a cliche way to dance.

We started off together
dancing the Tango.
All that was missing
was that rose in your mouth.

I remember then the pace picked up,
you lead the way in the salsa.
The slit in your dress went all the way up,
our audience was memorized.

I wasn't that good of a dancer,
but with you as my partner,
we danced like no other.
They didnt want the night to end.

Little beads of sweat,
like rain drops on a rose,
graced your stunning brow,
I wiped them off for you.

And so we danced, and danced, and danced,
until the lights grew dim.
Then in the shining darkness
I kissed you on the lips.

Olsen W. Potter

I live painting a picture
in my mind of you.
You wear a pink blouse
and tan jeans.

Your hair is jet black
down around your ears it hangs.
It's so real that I almost want to reach out
but its a painting, nothing more.

Your lips are red
like the brightest crayon in the box.
Tempting, begging, puckering
for one simple kiss.

Your body, a painting of perfection
that Leonardo can not out do.
The way your body flows
even standing still.

Your smile holds me spellbound
my paintbrush still in hand,
how could I even try
to paint it like it is?

Whenever I am lonely
your eyes draw my attention;
brown holes of eternity,
swirling love and lust together.

I live painting
a portrait of you
and hope that before I die,
I can show it to you...

Olsen W. Potter

I dreamt of you this night.
oh what a sweet dream it was,
like the sounds of the sea that relax me,
dreaming of you, rejuvenates me.

You were in the road,
we were walking,
then I remember glancing over
my heart stopped of overwhelming beauty.

We walked into a forest
there were tons of red Calla Lillies.
I picked one for you,
you put it behind your ear.

And then I couldn't take it,
I kissed you with the trees watching.
I think they were jealous,
they were screaming in silence.

My hands traveled your body,
they touched your soul, your life.
My tongue took away any doubts,
Your smile, a beautiful happening.

We made love on the grass.
Our bodies became one.
What a divine feeling,
it really was love.

Your eyes shined,
with the light of a women in passion.
Your gentil touch,
caused a tear of contentment.

I woke up sad,
it wasn't fair.
How can I work?
How can I live?
without you.

-Olsen W. Potter-

As I Sit

As I sit here
5 chairs, yet only 1 full.
Little feet with little voices
Whisper giggles as little children do.

As I sit here,
white wind whipping
beyond the scratched steel doors.
Only red noses and watery eyes enter here.

As I sit here,
Older and Younger intermix
in a strange soup of learning
books and bag lunch fill the pot.

As I sit here,
a lady with a file stands,
rush, rush, rushing
across her imperfect fingernail.

As I sit here
my hand itching for relief
my mind sketching down it's thoughts.
There's 5 chairs here...
only 1 is full.

-Olsen W. Potter-

Insanity

The voice in my mind
a censureship on creativity
tells me I am nothing,
I, a bird, sings in my flight.

My family's always asking
leaving doubts of self motivation
Asking what I'm doing
a creek can erode the earth.

"why are you so different?"
voices like a cat screatching in the night
"why are you so monochromic?"
that old cliche saloon fight.

I enjoy who I am.
Sunset painted on a lonely soul
I refuse to change.
Counting grains on an aging beach.

Writing with a faithful pen
chicks hatching out of pre-used eggs
Poem that never get read
swimming in the ocean of words
and dying of
thirst.

-Olsen W. Potter-

I want more

This passion that I have
for all of your words
nothing can kill
its like thrist, hunger, and love.

Your written words
Your spoken words
Your words always leave me
with the feeling of being loved.

I look for them always
I check just to see
If I have a note from you
on phone, I wait to hear your voice.

Am I crazy?
I need to hear you say
speak your words
listen to your voice.

Never want to change
if I'm crazy, I am, thats it.
this way I find
my pearl of great price.

How good it is to love
How good it is to hear
How good it is to speak
How good it is to know

You say I'm crazy
love me then, for the fool I am
Your words make me crazy
I want more, I want more, I want more.

Need I say more?
What else can I say?
I have a passion for your words
please, dont leave me without them.

-Olsen W. Potter-

Depression through the eyes of a lover.

I think no one loves me"
weren't those your words?
I wonder if that what you really think
because I know you're here for me.

I'm sick of saying I'm sorry
for being the way that I am,
because I am, I really am
Trying to change.

Everyone says I have so much talent
I have so much going for me,
maybe thats true, I sure hope it is
but its something that I can't see.

Dont get me wrong, I have you
I know that our love isn't something one finds everyday.
Like a calm in a stormy world of hatred
my relief, my shelter, my own.

Anger doesnt enter here,
I love you for your words.
Love would be rather one sided
if it was only when we agreed.

I feel a little out of place
I know what you see is true
yet what I see and I feel
are two very different ideas.

I see what others see of me,
I can tell that not everything is bad
but I must worry to much about things
because thats the way I feel.

Feelings that hurt,
Feelings that cut
Feelings that cause to much pain.
Feelings I can't escape from, except when talking to you.

I'm not making you
my only remedy
rather, my prefered;
like chocolate cake with strawberry tea.

What makes it so my love is blurry?
Why can't my words all agree?
How can I fully express
these feelings inside of me?

I dont hate myself
I dont hate those around me
I wont give up on my dreams
I just want you beside me.

It's like theres a devil in my ear
telling that I can't do what I want.
that devil is my country, my family, my self- doubt
but with you I feel free.

You take me to places that I never knew!
Release an anti-drepessant thats true.
You give me white wings that fly on blue skies
rather then black ones in dreary storms.

I guess what I'm trying to do with my life
is cleanse my soul from this dirt.
Rid my past of all this doubt.
Love you for the person you are.

I could keep going
on forever
my feelings for you dont end
but rather then continue I just want to say
your my love, my life, and my way.

Olsen W. Potter

Searching

Love lost in a crowd
my feet are wondering empty streets
my voice crying out loud
heart ache's in everything.

I'm searching, searching for someone
everwhere and endlessly
wishing, waiting,
could there be someone searching for...
someone searching for me?

So battered and bruised
pride wounded and left for dead
ears closed to good news
and eyes are tear drenched
with sleepless rest.

I'm searching, searching for someone
everwhere and endlessly
wishing, waiting,
could there be someone searching for...
someone searching for me?

Oh I hear the cries
and I know thier pain
can it be denied
that everyone has been
and will be one day...

Searching, searching for someone
everywhere and endlessly
Wishing, waiting,
could there be someone searching for...
someone searching for me.

My love is standing alone
hands scarred by the nails of hate
Hope suffering long
Faith urging that it's not to late
Someone's searching for somone
Someone's wishing, waiting
Could there be?
Someone searching
everywhere and endlessly
Loving, longing, always there someone searching for....
Someone searching for me.

-Olsen W. Potter-

Ok, so I realize that not many people read my blog, that could be partly my fault, but I wish to explain to those who do read it why I wrote this poem. I am taking an understanding poetry class in college. I love to write poetry, but I never knew that understanding it could just as much fun. I mean, I fuss up to the fact that I have never read a complete book of poems, well except for Camoes "Os Luisadas" but that is in a forgein tongue and many people do not know him. Today we learned about Ezra Pound. He was an image guy. He said that the image should convey the emotion, not the extra junk of adjectives surronding it. So I thought to myself; I wonder if I could do that. Here is my try.

Self-Hate

A black eye
no outreached hand
a broke mirror and
a fired gun.

Olsen W. Potter

A pure romantic's poem

Even in a room full of people
I miss you
when alone in bed, nothing but thoughts of you
enter my head.

Dreams I dream,
the words I speak
doesnt matter who
I wish I was with you

I want to fell your body next to mine
your gentle touch caress my cheek
feel your heat combine with mine
fill me with the love I seek

Solitude, Emptiness, and Depression
all run from the very thought
that one day I will be all you need
that "For Now," will turn into "Forever"

Yours words,
even those that hurt
make me a better man
turn into someone I want to be.

I wish you could believe me
that the past had not happened
but the wishing in the world
is worth a half a black bean.

Now then can my worth increase?
become Diamonds instead of rice?
I'm seeking always for that answer
"always Learning" to quote you.

Love, to me, is something grand
doesnt matter who you are
I may have the wrong idea of your character
but I love you anyway.

Because you inspire my voice
give my words true meaning
you force to do better
never accepting when I fail.

All I ask is that you keep doing
all that makes you happy.
I will keep progressing
until you belive me when I say
"I am the man who loves you."

-Olsen W. Potter-

Wonders of a loving heart

Sometimes when the dark envades
when all is lost and cold
the simple thought of your embrace
brings the light back home.

When I am stressed and missing you
I close my eyes, and like the fire's flames
I see our first kiss and first longing look
and my heart seems to skip a beat.

Then when in silent slumber I rest
my mind portraits soft images of you.
Me, washing dishes; you, hugging from behind
so simple, yet so full of love.

Sweet songs sing in my heart to you
songs my voice can not express
I long to find the words to say
exactly how I feel.

My body keeps asking for you
it can't understand why we're not together
my mind wonders why sometimes as well
I think, eventually, I'll just have to give in.

My poems, my words, my thoughts
all center around your pure love
and I... I wonder why
of all those you could have
you chose me.

-Olsen W. Potter-

If Heaven...

If heaven were an hour;
it would be when I finally embrace you
If Heaven were a town,
it would be wherever you are
If heaven were a touch
it would be your soft hand on my face.

Remember the days when
we would travel the world together
from our computers and our dreams?
those moments add together
to create my very own heaven.

You know when you speak
whispering "Te amo," so softly I can hardly hear you
all of those whispers build in my mind
surround me in love, giving me wings.

Faith and hope, its not easy to believe
but this time when I almost lost you
I realized, I dont need to believe
because sometimes, the heart just wins...

-Olsen W. Potter-

Maybe Tomorrow

Maybe tomorrow
when I'm older
and the sun has left my eyes
I'll understand why

Why hope can outlast depression
Why truth never changes
Why I can't refuse to believe
that everyone has some good in them.

Maybe when I'm dying
the color black finally winning
the light will enter
my mind will expand

Tell me why the rainbow's only after
the darkest cloud passes over
Tell me why even the sweetest melody
must have a deeper darker harmony
Tell me why the happiest person
also knows the pit of saddness

Maybe after I'm gone
my life just a flicker of faint fondness
People will look back and see
I try my best to overcome
to fight the fight and won.

Speak of me with love
Speak of me with a smile
Speak of me; never without mention of thee
They'll speak of you and me.

Maybe years from now
a thousand, or possibly two
I want people to still remember
that I deeply loved you.

_Olsen W. Potter_

Who?

Who would say that you're not loved?
Who would have the courage to do that?
Who would want you to live a life unloved?

Who could say that I can't love?
Who would open their mouth so wide?
Whoever said it must be jealous,
They can't understand what we feel.

Then I want to say that you really are
a person extremely blessed.
Theres a poet, well at least he tries,
that loves you with his life.
Theres a painter that just thinks about you
everything he does, he does for you.

He tries to write, place the words in the right order,
but the love runs so deep that the words run away.
How can he write, or paint for that matter,
that which conveys the faithfulness, the happiness, and the passion?

And so he stays, without being able
painting a picture that can't show,
writing a poem that can't say,
everything he holds inside.

Now then, Whoever says that you're not loved
doesn't know anything at all.
Because this man loves you more then anyone else
he just doesn't know how to express...
I love you.

-Olsen W. Potter_