August 1, 2016
Going thru my writing folder, I found poems from a long time ago that I had forgotten that I had put into a small chapbook. It's been awhile since I have written any poetry but I had started writing them in 4th grade. I still have the poems written for English class and though clunky and childlike, they do show some ability to string words together. I am glad that I continued with that format, though have replaced it with short story/novel writing as of late.
Yesterday's Garbage
MPOTOCKI
dig, man
the days of the past
are over -
lost sight
to the new adventures
lying in wait
beyond;
littering the
path behind
are pieces of
shattered dreams
and broken promises
and shards of
unrequited love;
dig, man
the potential
of the new day and
its new path
and look back not
to yesterday’s garbage
for it’s pick-up day
----------------------------------
“Recovery”
down and out
bruised and battered
arise from the murky depths
shake off the dirt previous
wipe away scarlet letter spills
stand tall
among your tormentors
give in not
disallow their shallowness
know deeply the rightness
you act upon
feel the strength
wielded you by truth
time -
to bear
a passage
a day - a week
all the same
time
today is now
then last month
soon to be years spent
----------------------------------
“The Stone Man”
Yes.
I’ve known the stone man.
He caught me unawares
with soft, sweet song.
He kept me rapt
with the lore he wove.
It suited him
to exchange with me
thoughts~memories~emotions,
for a time...
It pleased him
to carry on with me
relationships personal~private,
for a time...
Yes.
I have known the stone man
but only for a time.
----------------------------------
“The Dream”
the tip of his finger glistened
holding all her sorrow
in that instant
ashamed - she blinked
through moist shadows
holding back more
that would not come
guiltily - he sat transfixed
gradually realizing the
depths to which he’d
selfishly sent her
sorry - they sensed both
closure past
and future potential
what next?
----------------------------------
Inaudible serenades
set to hear music
that only we heard
and shared
in our gazes
caresses
and simple words;
we wrote
an orchestral masterpiece
and it was
incredible
and ours alone
and not a single note
was played
----------------------------------
Alone
in silence
I am my own tormentor
remembering
places walks talks
from a long time ago
another lifetime ago
Almost
better left behind
but unbreakingly bound
to the silence
----------------------------------
once upon a dreamscape
I dared the unexpected to occur
and it did
and I was pleased
and further pressed on
continuing to receive
selfishly ravaging this continuum
the little scenarios played through
and at the thought
of being presumptuous
dared a few large ones as well
always walking away content, smug
abruptly
quietly
unexpectedly - how ironic indeed
the scenarios both large and small
no longer grew
having been eliminated
with the disappearance of their
co-creator
----------------------------------
moist emotion
beaded
soft descent
etching yet another
subtle track
in my soul
----------------------------------
better
I could get better
if I could forget
but to forget,
I’d have to disallow;
to change remembrances
to mean less
or nothing at all
----------------------------------
I wrote of you once
embodied in the expanse
points of light
illuminating those features
I know to be yours.
Time was young
playful ~ creative.
Time was everything
yet no thing.
That time since past.
This time ever present.
That timely magnitude
surprisingly still exists
though considerably less
now concentrated
isolated
within a spectral corral
one when looked directly upon -
-disappears
yet reappears with
eyes averted.
How powerfully symbolic
Nature is.
----------------------------------
spare me.
nice try.
no dice.
backfire.
limbo.
questions
unanswered.
lost.
wonder why.
assuming.
guessing.
never sure.
thanks
for the thought
to try
and make things easier.
it didn’t work.
but thanks
for the good
intention
anyway.
----------------------------------
was it not yesterday
that I held your hand
and walked the same path?
was it not just last week
that we met for the first time
and talked endlessly, tirelessly?
had I dreamed so real
that you came alive
and were my friend?
as I awake each day
to find you nowhere
I can only think
that you were but an illusion
the main character
in a year-long dream
I have just awoken from.
----------------------------------
don’t tease
don’t be my friend
if it can only be
on your schedule ~
just don’t
be so unfair
to me
and you
OK??
----------------------------------
weeping eyes that never cry
remaining forever dry
faded fires
hidden behind dull eyes
milky, cloudy
looking by never seeing
a crafted mask
carefully placed
drawing all attention
away from these
tell-tale signs.
----------------------------------
He inspired her
And she longed
for no more
than to be
his personal poet.
A perfect symbiotic relationship.
Both thrived
until
of course
he left.
She faltered
and staggered along
with occasional
bits of verse
but little contained
the passions previous.
----------------------------------
dot
dot
dot
that was the end
falling into oblivion
everything, then
nothing
nothing
nothing
could erase that time
it was forever etched
into the softest flesh
graffiti
graffiti
graffiti
upon her heart
----------------------------------
the doors are all
closed and locked
the windows sealed
and nailed shut
but wait,
he left and forgot
to let me out.
alone I pace the floors
and roam the rooms
awaiting a key
to unlock the doors
to be set free.
maybe someday, he’ll
remember he left
me here alone
and return
maybe...
----------------------------------
bleary-eyed
sunken features
quick tempered
unsettled
a junkie?
perhaps
a lover forlorn?
perhaps
please stay
don’t run
~not yet
I have to tell
even if
you don’t
want to listen.
it probably
doesn’t matter
not now
so long after.
closure.
I need for this
to end
or perhaps
begin again.
you’ll decide
after it’s been said
what to do
or not do
I love you.
I do forever.
leave if you must
or stay,
but never forget
Forever.
----------------------------------
maybe the end began
with the sunrise
that never came
obscured by moorish fog;
the sun was there
but we couldn’t find it,
the first in a series
of hidden things
we knew were there
but couldn’t find,
or took for granted;
ourselves
apart and together
hopes, dreams, desires,
the truth
it was all there
somewhere
----------------------------------
once there was a girl
naive enough to be happy;
then there was a woman
able to see and she wasn’t
once that woman
met a man, a soulmate
who allowed her to forget
and once again
she was happy
then he saw
and ran away
leaving her alone with her eyes
and she saw more
and sank deeper down
----------------------------------
I thirst
for your liquid
beads of conversation
once carelessly doled out
without thought to consequence
in the beginning
it was a sweet interlude
I was able to take
or leave
but as they were more frequently acquired
I began to crave them
always hungering for more
never sated
and selfishly, for quite some time,
you gave me as many as I needed
then you were gone
and I was left without them
a conversation junkie
silenced
and mute
----------------------------------
each burst of neon
burns yet another
memory into her brain;
coffee burns her throat
as she drinks in haste,
some spilling down
the side of the mug
scalding the locked, white
knuckles of her hand;
in the background
a poet reads
a musician plays,
yet she continues to be lost,
separated from herself;
she smiles at the man in the beret
walking past the cafe’ in the rain,
he doesn’t notice her
and the smile vanishes;
the clock ticks louder
with each passing second
becoming nearly unbearable;
after a few minutes,
she stubbornly refuses
to give in to the urge to leave,
but how much more can she take???
----------------------------------
dance within the maelstrom
sprout rain
from your eyes,
thunder from your throat,
and electricity
from the flowing vaults
of your soul.
appear naked
within the storm
and be cleansed
from a cloudburst
droplets of words
fall from my mind.
in the pale
shadowed
light of dawn
I am a poet.
----------------------------------
pad my walk
with leaden footsteps
so that it is known
where I walk;
lend me spurs
to sprout from
worn leathers,
for I want to be heard
as I approach;
and in the day’s dying dusk,
only smoking steps
will I leave behind,
and, of course,
the words.
----------------------------------
I walk upon this earth
enshrouded with a holocaust cloak
of ebon.
The pain of all my days
I wear as a chain of stones
around my neck.
Every passing year,
the chain shortens
with each additional pain.
Soon it will
become a choker
and I will no longer breathe existence
onto paper.
My last breath
shall be upon stone.
----------------------------------
and into the dark heathen strife
our new souls are thrown
to search for purpose;
staring out brick windows
pacing on broken glass floors;
many cannot avoid
the traps we begin
to set for ourselves
so we can dismiss the search within
merely a stain upon our conscience;
yet occasional stragglers
remain on the fringes
viewing all activities with critical sight
all the while
continuing on the search
uttering condescending speech
to those who have lost sight
of the one true, important goal
~~purpose
----------------------------------
I walked forever in the dark
always moving forward
but not seeing ahead
being but not living
At times I wondered why
and dreamt of my youth
hours of running free
bathing in the light of day
blinking in the sun
it was warm then
but these dreams were only memories
that quickly fell from my thoughts
like sands of an hourglass
and returned me to my current walk
It was a typically bleak day
that I finally realized
that my existence was dark
because I had trod my path
with eyes tightly closed
----------------------------------
I.
play sordid music -
delicate power dream-trip;
black symphony storm
felt like shadow rain
II.
she screams sadness
through raw tongue vision
recalling the drunk
sleeping garden
above death
No comments:
Post a Comment