Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘poetic’

The dim light in the night

realigns the way a mind

wants to remember a place.

The street slopes differently now

and the river seems wider.

The ground is wet, but not from a rain,

instead there is a faint dew

that lingers in the darkness

above the sidewalk.

And the air has changed completely,

like the opening of a refrigerator

after the dead sweat heat

of a long and lovely summer day.

 

The places we know best are the ones

that stay always like a stranger

somehow

and stand in front of us like a hollow tree,

faking at life

but making at something else.

Art? Maybe.

Or

something that none of us

quiet know about

yet.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Memories and moments of magic

can be taken and shaken by the

pervasive powers of sadness.

There are no exceptions to this it seems.

The lingering ringing in my ears

from a spirit was so strong

went cold in an instant. Nearly forgotten.

Like some dusty old diary.

And all that was left was the sounds of

sirens and the frantic lights of an ambulance

in a hurry and a fury,

in the wee small hours of the morning.

Dreams die without life and love to meet them.

I suppose they are like children in that regard.

Families are broken by the pain of the past,

a pain they all choose to let remain.

Songs are silenced.

Blood betrayed.

In one night

I was swimming in the delight of my dreams,

tasting the fortune of all of my possible futures

to then be left

drowning in a darkness I didn’t create,

other than fate

had something else in store for my soul.

But ever so softly I could still hear

my ears ringing and that strong spirit singing

beyond the sadness,

calling me onward.

 

Read Full Post »

In a dream I saw you

with your eyes sparkling like

all those endless,

bright blue stars above us.

You were the same

with your smile and your mascara.

You were the same

in your essence and your energy too,

and you ran into my arms

like a long lost friend

and we held each other

and whispered words so sweet and deep,

recounting our feelings of fondness.

 

We never did fall in love

the way we had hoped.

But all those feelings are still with us-

roses left on windshields

and our eyes telling everything.

Soon our embrace was complete

and I walked away from you

smiling

and thinking about the past

and how unique it is

that love never leaves us.

It is always available

and we are connected

forever through how we really,

truly feel.

 

Read Full Post »

Sometimes

it is in a broken man

that the beauty of the world

beams most bright,

like some unavoidable ray of sunlight

bursting from behind the clouds.

Sometimes it is the late night, lonely guitar players

and the piss drunk homeless hounds

that howl at the moon

and make the music we need to hear most.

And when we do hear that music,

we cry tears that we have held back for lifetimes.

And even if it is only in a moment,

we let go of our pain and open up more

into ourselves.

Sometimes it is in our mourning that we learn to celebrate,

in our horrors that we find our strength,

in our losing that we find our own love.

Sometimes,

we have to dig deep into our own darkness

and sit with the discomfort like a long lost friend.

And sometimes,

it is in a broken man

that the beauty of the world

beams most bright.

 

 

 

Read Full Post »

In offset places

there are spaces that reflect a land beyond time,

like faces on a lake of light can shine.

Sometimes it is faint,

the subtle saint that sings softly in your ears

and the paint of a picture becomes quite clear.

We all await

a mate who offers themselves sweet and complete,

but fate at times is only luck, a love lived discreet.

Deep beyond time

and what’s mine and what’s yours and what’s true

is a limitless line of light reaching out to you.

You are burning

and learning and loving and living,

you are earning and dying and trying and giving.

You are more near,

when you embrace your fear, to what is real

and dear to the infinite collective of how we love

and how we really, truly feel.

 

 

Read Full Post »

There is an emptiness flowing here,

a bottomless pit

born and bred by the loneliest of the lonely.

A rabbit hole filled with florescent lights

and dead flowers.

Makeup plastered like dry dirt.

And everyone is dancing and smiling

and acting like fools

And all of them want you to know

that they couldn’t care less.

All of the colors are blinding,

but everyone’s mind is wide awake.

They are all trying to escape

themselves

in the hope to experience some new

found feeling of freedom,

but most of them just settle for some kind of

cheap release.

And there is a sadness in this showing

by what is being told through the cries and the lies

and the heartache that oozes from their eye sockets

like some invisible emotional river

not seen, but deeply felt. And shared.

But this isn’t a place of caring and sharing.

This is a display of the avoided darkness,

all for the sake of dramatics.

The pull-in.

Everything is fake.

Everything will break.

It is not with hearts that these hands have

carved out a creation

but with the fears of their own desires.

A world is on fire

but everyone is having such a good time,

aren’t they?

 

 

Read Full Post »

Hell bent to break

the holding and the folding

of these worn and weathered hands.

A forlorn feeling settles in like

a grey cloud casting its darkness.

And in this moment

the land that I love

and

the land that I live on

turns from a friend

to a foreigner.

An enemy. An alien.

An ending.

And it is here that I always seem to turn on myself-

and I create from my oneness,

another

to point my shame at.

It is here that I make the same mistake

again and again.

And it is here that this land

drowns in a downpour

of my own pain.

Hated and self-created

by myself, for myself, to myself.

Off in the distance I can hear a voice

that lingers like the lilting forests of my childhood.

I hear it clearer

as I close my eyes.

I am the storm

and the stillness.

I am the rain

and the cleansing.

I am the forgetting

and the remembering.

I am the beginning 

and the unending.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »