I.
Your past is as complex as mine
Trust lost all the time
When we talk I feel so drawn
To end the pain and wrong
I know you don’t believe
That I will never deceive
It’s hard to begin to trust
When your heart has turned to dust
II.
All human beings must someday pass away,
impermanence is the nature of all.
Long gone are our forgotten yesterdays,
and tomorrow we might receive death’s call.
But I have learned to live in the moment,
one day at a time, one hour at a time.
The laws of Nature can’t ever be bent
so I lovingly accept each day’s grime.
I don’t love possessions, I love wisdom,
knowing that all things are easily changed.
In this I have found the greatest freedom,
accepting all that Nature has arranged.
III.
You’re an enigma, a curiosity
When I’m near, I find it hard to see
Those soulful eyes draw me in
You make me long to share your sin
Our closeness feels like a crime
We always seem to run out of time
I’m drawn and repelled
You entrance me, like a spell
A simple step forward and away
Always running, wanting to stay
We continue our gentle tease
Playing tunes along the breeze
One step close and then away
IV.
Watch his rhythm as he moves,
So calculated, ever poised,
With strength so present in his stance,
And pure seduction in his glance,
These are but clever subtle ploys,
To steal all that you have to lose.
A casual laugh, a small debate,
He acts as though he cares so much,
Yet beneath his cultured clothes,
There is one thing he cannot know,
The love on which we always clutch,
There’s no heart in one of hate.
V.
The clock has struck three thirty
I’ve officially been up for an hour
The pillow looks enticing
And my mouth is parched and sour
But I can’t go back to sleep
In thoughts, like hushed mice, creep
Three miles, straight ahead,
You’re sleeping snug and tight
Relishing in dreams in which
Your fantasies take flight
You’re warm and safe in bed
And I wish I were you instead
Three hundred miles north,
You’re probably tucked in nice
Thoughts flicker through your mind
Like a candle flame on ice
And they’re probably in your head
And I wish I were them instead
Three thousand miles west,
You’re perpetually awake
You’re thoughts buzzing so loudly
That your skull begins to ache
And you stare at the empty half of your bed
And god, I wish I were there instead.
VI.
Has the darkness of the night ever
seemed like the only thing in sight?
Have the darkest of thoughts ever
seemed like the ones that were right?
If ever it seems like all your body
does is obstruct or refract light,
there’s something I want you to know:
That light reaches my eyes: I see you glow.
VII.
Has the sting of a discouraging word
ever caused the swelling of your heart?
Has the collapse of a plan you made,
ever caused your world to fall apart?
If ever it seems like the floor you
stand on is seconds from falling through,
there’s something I want you to know:
Thanks to the bridge you built: I’ll always catch you.
VIII.
In deep self-reflection,
In grand introspection
You see but perfection
And feel satisfaction.
Artistic projection
Of flawless complexion.
Aesthetic refraction
Of once right direction.
You’re finding protection
In arms of defection.
Suppressing rejection,
Evading detection,
A sweet predilection
For torpid confection
And full disconnection
From fair circumspection.
You’re taking injection
Of lurid affection.
A minor infraction
Unmasks vile transaction,
Infernal selection,
Unholy ejection,
Derailing inflexion,
Corrupting convection.
Filth-ridden correction
Implores for objection,
But strong is hell’s traction,
Secure from exaction.
Since there is perfection,
You’re fine with inaction,
Large-scale insurrection
Of charming attraction.
In pleasant distraction
Of lovely infection
There’s no resurrection,
Just gruesome dissection.
IX.
Look in the mirror
And what do you see?
Is it the same person
Staring back at thee?
Strong and brilliant
Sweet and cool
Eternally optimistic
Not anybody’s fool
Look in the mirror
And what do you see?
Are you still wishing
They’d just let you be?
Stop all the mocking
Stop all the lies
Stop all the heartache
As your soul cries
Look in the mirror
And what do you see?
Do your walls crumble
And your tears fall free?
Salty rain falling
Pools of liquid blue
And darkness comes calling
Wrapping around you
Look in the mirror
And what do you see?
Are you no longer strong
As the old oak tree?
You’ve been broken
Your heart’s in pieces
And everything’s crashing
While your hand reaches
For the way things used to be
When you were happy and strong
Before they wore you down
And it seems so very long
Since you were strong and free
You didn’t know how to cry
Things were going your way
How did that part of you die?
You look back along the line
How your reflection changed over time
And you wonder how it will be
If tomorrow there’s no reflection to see
X.
Curls and rolls of hills,
Cracked and torn apart,
Innards spread for all to see,
Stilled the living heart,
Nature burnt and ashes spread,
Through earth and fire and water,
Chokes the animals banished,
To make way for stone and mortar,
See now here just what we’ve done,
To this pure and gentle land,
Its fate now rests with you and me,
In hard and callous hands.
XI.
I wish to carve your words into my soul, old friend
so that our time together may find no end
and by your words, when all things come to pass,
my soul may find and come to yours at last
XII.
Did you know that I knew?
Did you know it was true?
That this life’s nothing new?
And that I’m just like you?
And now you’re running too–
for I fell as you flew;
XIII.
Who’s to say that what I see
Is really what’s in front of me?
And not images created by my mind,
So that all I see is what you defined.
What used to be clear is now a sea of clouds and question marks.
What used to be near is now so far away replaced by hearts and electric sparks.
What used to be mine is now a shared mass that you can pick at and throw away.
And I feel fine; Even though you destroyed what I used to see everyday.
I’ve become your rag doll, pulled along at your side without choice,
And your glaring eyes have reduced me to thoughts without a voice.
And you’ve made me believe that everyone who cares for me is fake,
But I’m beginning to doubt the authenticity of the promises you make.
XIV.
Walking up or walking down,
it matters not at all,
I feel as if I would drown,
amongst the high above stars.
Dizzy only up some feet,
it seems like such a distance,
a hill becomes a mountain peak,
as fear runs an internal riot.
I am so far away into this hell,
that I would rather burn eternal,
then enter a light and above dwell,
in heaven amongst the clouds.
Here on the ground I feel calm,
at peace and one with the earth,
to get up sends me out of aplomb,
and into spiralling hysterics.
So here I stay as often as able,
with my feet on level ground,
because other actions leave me disabled,
from living a blithe life.
XV.
There is in this world some “thing” oft’ divined,
Nearly never seen, and harder to find.
It goes beyond the base instincts of man,
It flies where it will, and lights where it can.
It is never owned, nor possessed—in short.
It will grace your life, it will not consort.
Yet, I give you no name to call it by.
Though, named it has been, and others will try.
It’s more illusive than the pale moonbeam,
More delicate than the butterfly wing,
More fragile than threads of volcanic glass,
Stronger that anything you’ve known—alas.
It will alight in your soul, unannounced,
And it will leave, your poor heart feeling trounced.
But, there’s sheer Beauty and Joy in the thing,
And you fear for it, and not for its sting.
You would that you’d never make one wrong move,
Take one wrong breath, your misstep you’d reprove.
And while you contemplate what you should do,
The beautiful thing slips away from you.
Terror stricken, you are forced to look on,
As it crumbles, dissolves, and then is gone.
And it rips out your heart, and wounds your soul,
And now that it’s gone, there’s a gaping hole.
The echo and image burned in your mind,
So strong and painful are, and are not kind.
You find yourself doing what you hate most,
You mope . . . and listen . . . and stare at its ghost.
Well, the ghost of the thing is fading fast,
If it hasn’t already gone—at last.
And, I fear that it will never come back.
If this is the case, I shall always lack.
My soul is empty, and I am now lost.
The beautiful thing brings a heavy cost.
The only good thing in my life is gone.
Yet, somehow, I know I shall carry on.
Filed under: Poetry
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