the rain pours down
outside
I sit on the porch
and wonder of you
it might as well be a
million lonely miles
just the same as
next door
I don't know
where it came from
or why
I just know I want
to see it to its end
and I feel
deep inside
that this one should be
this fit seems made for me
i hope it is for you
it may be a long time
before we know for sure
be patient,heart.
time is the cure.
I just remember that touch
and not wanting to leave
knowing only obligations
and not being able to feed my own need
I cannot tell you
how special I felt
just being held in those eyes
I don't know why
it just feels right
sing to me again
troubadour
something inside you
touches something in me
I wish on the hidden stars
someday we'll both get to see
sing away
We work in the Dark; we give what we have. Our Doubt is our passion- our passion is our task, and the rest is the madness of art. -Henry James
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
not quite there
I am not enough as I am
I am too much
or too little
I can't say which
I don't get it
I guess I never did
sometimes the chasm
is too threatening
to try to breach
We're birds of a
feather
we don't want the
pain
again
but we know
something's missing
And the heart
moves out to
whatever will
reach first
even if it is the
wrong path
you wear that
thing
like a shield
Me, I wear aloofness
we manage to
damage whatever
chance it might have
by being ever
on the defense
who will make
the first move
and will the
other respond
it can take a long
time
to break down
dense walls
I hope we
don't give up
It is easier
yes
it makes life so
much easier
to just move on
& never know
that it was the one
to fit
And I hate it
I think you do too.
is there some
small piece still
unwounded
where this little bird
might lite
is there some way
to give this love
flight
my heart says yes
my head & hand
hesitate
I hope one or both
figure it out
before it's too late
I am too much
or too little
I can't say which
I don't get it
I guess I never did
sometimes the chasm
is too threatening
to try to breach
We're birds of a
feather
we don't want the
pain
again
but we know
something's missing
And the heart
moves out to
whatever will
reach first
even if it is the
wrong path
you wear that
thing
like a shield
Me, I wear aloofness
we manage to
damage whatever
chance it might have
by being ever
on the defense
who will make
the first move
and will the
other respond
it can take a long
time
to break down
dense walls
I hope we
don't give up
It is easier
yes
it makes life so
much easier
to just move on
& never know
that it was the one
to fit
And I hate it
I think you do too.
is there some
small piece still
unwounded
where this little bird
might lite
is there some way
to give this love
flight
my heart says yes
my head & hand
hesitate
I hope one or both
figure it out
before it's too late
Monday, February 06, 2006
refuse
Furniture in the roadside
lost in the moving
a moving loss
too big to toss-
just left behind
a place to unwind
on the roadside
Couch on the curve
off white and off kilter
a place to stop and watch
the sunset
creeping down the road
Stories untold
as night begins to unfold
stretch out to a bed
as tail lights turn red
and the journey starts anew
Living room suite
tunes tossed to the wind
as chairs once comfort
now become no one's friend
lost in the moving
a moving loss
too big to toss-
just left behind
a place to unwind
on the roadside
Couch on the curve
off white and off kilter
a place to stop and watch
the sunset
creeping down the road
Stories untold
as night begins to unfold
stretch out to a bed
as tail lights turn red
and the journey starts anew
Living room suite
tunes tossed to the wind
as chairs once comfort
now become no one's friend
Sidewalk Poet
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Sidewallk Poet
chalk scraps across the concrete
scratchy sound
sends chills up my spine
if only to remind
me to pay attention
it is the only pay cheque
worth bothering with
the world of man slides
by, a blur of noise
a whisper of rushing feet
a flash of passing shades
all lost to the background
of confusion
this is all illusion
what is real moves
a different pace
walks the soil not cement
is a different place
yet right outside your door
I draw the heart of man
where the feet scrape it away
and I draw it again
to draw attention
to what fails you every
time
i am the keeper of rhyme
it is my job
to make sure you see
once in awhile
what is truly there
which is not what
you think
but rather what you need
take heed
sometimes the Truth
comes upon velvet feet
pads into your line
of vision
just long enough to
make you stop
leaves you wondering
what you saw
real or delusion
like I said
just illusion
look for the painting
etched into the sidewalk
Truth comes from all corners
maybe even yours
Sidewallk Poet
chalk scraps across the concrete
scratchy sound
sends chills up my spine
if only to remind
me to pay attention
it is the only pay cheque
worth bothering with
the world of man slides
by, a blur of noise
a whisper of rushing feet
a flash of passing shades
all lost to the background
of confusion
this is all illusion
what is real moves
a different pace
walks the soil not cement
is a different place
yet right outside your door
I draw the heart of man
where the feet scrape it away
and I draw it again
to draw attention
to what fails you every
time
i am the keeper of rhyme
it is my job
to make sure you see
once in awhile
what is truly there
which is not what
you think
but rather what you need
take heed
sometimes the Truth
comes upon velvet feet
pads into your line
of vision
just long enough to
make you stop
leaves you wondering
what you saw
real or delusion
like I said
just illusion
look for the painting
etched into the sidewalk
Truth comes from all corners
maybe even yours
Sunday, February 05, 2006
dawn creeps up on the horizon
bright star guides me home
once again alone
how do I make it end
teacher, guide for others
never for myself
the stones talk of
things i do not know
I get so tired of walking alone
I am foot sore and weary
and I look for another
to share the burden
Seems my lot here is to stand alone
always the strength and courage
but never the reward
I do not like this task
somewhere along the line
I think I was got forgotten
by the ones who watch over
and so i waste away
just another day
in the here and now
to bear alone
lost soul in the crowd
bright star guides me home
once again alone
how do I make it end
teacher, guide for others
never for myself
the stones talk of
things i do not know
I get so tired of walking alone
I am foot sore and weary
and I look for another
to share the burden
Seems my lot here is to stand alone
always the strength and courage
but never the reward
I do not like this task
somewhere along the line
I think I was got forgotten
by the ones who watch over
and so i waste away
just another day
in the here and now
to bear alone
lost soul in the crowd
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
again?
Dare I fall yet again
for a wandering minstrel
dare I spread
myself thinner still?
I wish I had the nerve
he has- to move around
so much that all
and none are places home
* * *
Migrating birdie
what is your true name
Not the one you wear as
a badge
but the one that sings
the colours in your soul
* * *
the spring time calls
the flowers threaten to bloom
the trees reach out
yawn, stretch & reach
to the sky
I wish I knew why
some are content in one place
while another cannot lite
for more than a moment
i think sometimes
that it must be fear
on both parts, not one,
each clinging in their
own way
to some fabled ending
ever on the horizon
we make our beds
we pack the car
we wait at home
we travel far
there is no difference
when all is said & done
it is just a way of choosing
which way to run
we come undone
plaster & poetry fill in the gaps
we reach outside ourselves
cos no one supplied a map
for a wandering minstrel
dare I spread
myself thinner still?
I wish I had the nerve
he has- to move around
so much that all
and none are places home
* * *
Migrating birdie
what is your true name
Not the one you wear as
a badge
but the one that sings
the colours in your soul
* * *
the spring time calls
the flowers threaten to bloom
the trees reach out
yawn, stretch & reach
to the sky
I wish I knew why
some are content in one place
while another cannot lite
for more than a moment
i think sometimes
that it must be fear
on both parts, not one,
each clinging in their
own way
to some fabled ending
ever on the horizon
we make our beds
we pack the car
we wait at home
we travel far
there is no difference
when all is said & done
it is just a way of choosing
which way to run
we come undone
plaster & poetry fill in the gaps
we reach outside ourselves
cos no one supplied a map
new moon
cupid's arrow aimmed at the ground
aphrodite's bow down at all-rest
crescent moon creeps slowly to sleep
too young to give me any idea
which way to turn
Life is full of surprises
twists and turns all directions known
and none so hard to know as this
I am wrenched from every socket made
aphrodite's bow down at all-rest
crescent moon creeps slowly to sleep
too young to give me any idea
which way to turn
Life is full of surprises
twists and turns all directions known
and none so hard to know as this
I am wrenched from every socket made
bits-n-pieces
a notebook gone wild:
two lines in the road
going opposite ways
I'm in a haze
Life's direction are
often opaque
giving us reason to
pause & ponder
How far I wander
from the beaten path
never look back
it doesn't work
I know
I tried
Ever forward
the message goes
but who knows
which way the
path turns
******************************************
no idea
where to go
never know
ever the flow
I am so lost sometimes
at least I think I am
then I look to others
& find the way not
so very different
for them
*******************************
Godlen spiral
circles into
toward life
yin & yang
but ever widening
comes from hiding
inside each &
every thing
**************************************
the people in our lives
both brief and forever
are merely prayers
we chose to utter
to know better ourselves
and others as well
to reconnect where
we oft think ourselves
disconnected
it is when we forget
how to pray for
what is outside
ourselves
that the world seems
to falter
and grow a bit colder
two lines in the road
going opposite ways
I'm in a haze
Life's direction are
often opaque
giving us reason to
pause & ponder
How far I wander
from the beaten path
never look back
it doesn't work
I know
I tried
Ever forward
the message goes
but who knows
which way the
path turns
******************************************
no idea
where to go
never know
ever the flow
I am so lost sometimes
at least I think I am
then I look to others
& find the way not
so very different
for them
*******************************
Godlen spiral
circles into
toward life
yin & yang
but ever widening
comes from hiding
inside each &
every thing
**************************************
the people in our lives
both brief and forever
are merely prayers
we chose to utter
to know better ourselves
and others as well
to reconnect where
we oft think ourselves
disconnected
it is when we forget
how to pray for
what is outside
ourselves
that the world seems
to falter
and grow a bit colder
Thursday, December 01, 2005
been writing poetry at MySpace for some reason. Preserving it here.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
One Door Opens
Current mood: grieving
another closes.
sometimes it is hard to decipher which
is witch
a hand reached to me
I answered
I found a friend
and for a time was healed
Now I am at a loss
It seems life chips away
in little tiny moves
breaking this heart
to shards
and then quarks
an dthere is no glue
to mend it with
I tire of the goodbyes
especially those never said
I tire of the empty spaces
left as the room grows cold
I suppose
I look outside myself
for too much affirmation
but it is said that one
is known by the company
one keeps
Would that I could keep yours
I'm tired of closing doors
and learning not to trust
the next that opens.
In bitter tears I turn away.
I stole those pictures today
they may be all I have
when the morning light turns grey
i hate goodbye
I hate having to lose
I hate knowing once again
I walk through here alone
I hope it changes
but I will mourn just the same
a part of me died today
and the passing should be honoured
in the name of the Triple Goddess,
Maiden, Mother, Crone
I bid thee godspeed to wherever
and pray that you come home.
blessed be my friend.
Saturday, November 26, 2005
not sure
so much pain in the world
and we usually inflict it upon ourselves.
there is no outside remedy
no place to hide til it goes away
only time to spend inside
seek within
for the strenght
the answers
the thing that is us
each and all
it is only from ourselves
that true happiness is derived
no one and nothing
else
can patch the holes,
mend the heart,
guide us through this life
the zen buddhists
call it
chop wood, carry water
do the simple things
to the best of your waking day
be happy in the little accomplishments
and know you have
made a difference
in a life
if merely your own
there is no other true place
for peace to grow
but in one's own heart.
1:34 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
an early AM away
Current mood: tired of games
Ah!
this is driving me crazy!
Too much time in my own head and I still cannot see the way.
I cannot have what works for me,
yet what I can isn't what I need.
Sometimes there are too many facets to this life and I can't
tell which is real and which a lie.
there's that word again.
you brought it up awhile back, with bitterness,
and sarcasm, yet again trying to joke
but not really.
I am sometimes not sure when to laugh
or give you a hug.
but there you are.
Beauty as to only artists,
yet there you stand
looking uncomfortable in your own skin
making me wonder if I
am dealing with a man
or a boy.
Most are both really,
and I love and envy
them for it.
they remind me how to play
bu none ever seems to stay
I don't know why.
but for you,
I would try.
and again there it is-
I do not know why.
I only know I hate the cold pillow
next to me, and the distance
between us,
you and me.
10:43 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Turnings
Current mood: quiet
crisp bite in the air
normal sounds of everyday
muffled to extinction
skies whisper
of coming cold
leaves flap by
in their migration
winter comes
this is the time
of dying
to be reborn
at midwinter fires
the world turns round
once more
peace in the coming times , friends.
8:07 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Unable
wanna be somewhere else right now. Close enough to touch, though it is forbidden. For now anyway.
Want to know I have the chance I need. Want to know that something might just go right for me for a change.
and unable to do a damn thing about it. too far away. wait for another day....
to touch and say
what I feel.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
One Door Opens
Current mood: grieving
another closes.
sometimes it is hard to decipher which
is witch
a hand reached to me
I answered
I found a friend
and for a time was healed
Now I am at a loss
It seems life chips away
in little tiny moves
breaking this heart
to shards
and then quarks
an dthere is no glue
to mend it with
I tire of the goodbyes
especially those never said
I tire of the empty spaces
left as the room grows cold
I suppose
I look outside myself
for too much affirmation
but it is said that one
is known by the company
one keeps
Would that I could keep yours
I'm tired of closing doors
and learning not to trust
the next that opens.
In bitter tears I turn away.
I stole those pictures today
they may be all I have
when the morning light turns grey
i hate goodbye
I hate having to lose
I hate knowing once again
I walk through here alone
I hope it changes
but I will mourn just the same
a part of me died today
and the passing should be honoured
in the name of the Triple Goddess,
Maiden, Mother, Crone
I bid thee godspeed to wherever
and pray that you come home.
blessed be my friend.
Saturday, November 26, 2005
not sure
so much pain in the world
and we usually inflict it upon ourselves.
there is no outside remedy
no place to hide til it goes away
only time to spend inside
seek within
for the strenght
the answers
the thing that is us
each and all
it is only from ourselves
that true happiness is derived
no one and nothing
else
can patch the holes,
mend the heart,
guide us through this life
the zen buddhists
call it
chop wood, carry water
do the simple things
to the best of your waking day
be happy in the little accomplishments
and know you have
made a difference
in a life
if merely your own
there is no other true place
for peace to grow
but in one's own heart.
1:34 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
an early AM away
Current mood: tired of games
Ah!
this is driving me crazy!
Too much time in my own head and I still cannot see the way.
I cannot have what works for me,
yet what I can isn't what I need.
Sometimes there are too many facets to this life and I can't
tell which is real and which a lie.
there's that word again.
you brought it up awhile back, with bitterness,
and sarcasm, yet again trying to joke
but not really.
I am sometimes not sure when to laugh
or give you a hug.
but there you are.
Beauty as to only artists,
yet there you stand
looking uncomfortable in your own skin
making me wonder if I
am dealing with a man
or a boy.
Most are both really,
and I love and envy
them for it.
they remind me how to play
bu none ever seems to stay
I don't know why.
but for you,
I would try.
and again there it is-
I do not know why.
I only know I hate the cold pillow
next to me, and the distance
between us,
you and me.
10:43 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Turnings
Current mood: quiet
crisp bite in the air
normal sounds of everyday
muffled to extinction
skies whisper
of coming cold
leaves flap by
in their migration
winter comes
this is the time
of dying
to be reborn
at midwinter fires
the world turns round
once more
peace in the coming times , friends.
8:07 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Unable
wanna be somewhere else right now. Close enough to touch, though it is forbidden. For now anyway.
Want to know I have the chance I need. Want to know that something might just go right for me for a change.
and unable to do a damn thing about it. too far away. wait for another day....
to touch and say
what I feel.
Monday, November 07, 2005
the farthest point down
how far is
too far
down
I knew once
for me
I had my limits
and they nearly
crushed me
when you're floating
on the oily sea
rife with debris
and vivid smells
how do you
tell the mind
to take over
where the heart has failed
how far
is too far
down
when nothing
cuts through
nothing makes
sense anymore
nothing stays
the wound
and misery
is all you know
there is no guide book to this
there is no class one can take
it seems sometimes that even
the books can offer no more solace
the words are brittle and tasteless
the rhyme slips right through the fingers
and no one has
any answers
that might say
which way to turn
it isn't fun
to be alone
on a vast sea
of nothing
but the past
and alas
it is hard to
know
how far
is too far
down
until it might
be too late
* * * * * * * * * * *
a light in the tunnel
an escape
or an end
you will never know
until you reach for it
and that takes courage
of the heart
just a start
but it must begin somewhere
too far
down
I knew once
for me
I had my limits
and they nearly
crushed me
when you're floating
on the oily sea
rife with debris
and vivid smells
how do you
tell the mind
to take over
where the heart has failed
how far
is too far
down
when nothing
cuts through
nothing makes
sense anymore
nothing stays
the wound
and misery
is all you know
there is no guide book to this
there is no class one can take
it seems sometimes that even
the books can offer no more solace
the words are brittle and tasteless
the rhyme slips right through the fingers
and no one has
any answers
that might say
which way to turn
it isn't fun
to be alone
on a vast sea
of nothing
but the past
and alas
it is hard to
know
how far
is too far
down
until it might
be too late
* * * * * * * * * * *
a light in the tunnel
an escape
or an end
you will never know
until you reach for it
and that takes courage
of the heart
just a start
but it must begin somewhere
Sunday, November 06, 2005
midnight scribbles
trees thru the forest
that’s a harder thing
the safe little cottage
tucked away in back
a simple life
thee & me
all inside the trees
what drives the words
the poet would say
mystery
mystery
but, truth, they are
like the wind
curling around me
like fog on the glen
wrapping me in things
unseen but felt inside
I’ve nowhere to hide
One hand’s embrace
can change the world
make the sun rise
and sunset fairer
make the colours bright
in the northern lights
up in the midnight sky
don’t ask me why
I only know its truth;
I can’t give it reason,
justa place in this heart
to let hope grow
maybe he will know
Maybe he can tap
into the connection
as into the maple
to release the sweet within
it does take two
after all
the give and the take
must balance
or no one gains a thing
in the end
like a tree I bend
down to the frozen ground
offering what I can,
warmth gained from above
to melt a small bit
of the world
just a start, but
I hope it is enough
that’s a harder thing
the safe little cottage
tucked away in back
a simple life
thee & me
all inside the trees
what drives the words
the poet would say
mystery
mystery
but, truth, they are
like the wind
curling around me
like fog on the glen
wrapping me in things
unseen but felt inside
I’ve nowhere to hide
One hand’s embrace
can change the world
make the sun rise
and sunset fairer
make the colours bright
in the northern lights
up in the midnight sky
don’t ask me why
I only know its truth;
I can’t give it reason,
justa place in this heart
to let hope grow
maybe he will know
Maybe he can tap
into the connection
as into the maple
to release the sweet within
it does take two
after all
the give and the take
must balance
or no one gains a thing
in the end
like a tree I bend
down to the frozen ground
offering what I can,
warmth gained from above
to melt a small bit
of the world
just a start, but
I hope it is enough
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Nevermind
I just got it wrong again.
Ignore it and go on.
The world will not change
so drastically
because of one foolish
girl's dream.
I don't even qualify
as a passing fancy.
None would give me that glance.
I am just the wallflower,
forgetable in the end,
the one no one notices
til she's gone.
if then.
I will go back to my cave
dig deep in the time
of hibernation
and pray that dreams are
enough to sustain
when all else is denied me.
And if they aren't,
well,
who the hell would notice
the difference anyway?
What a pity
won't even cross your mind
I will just be that face
that stopped showing up.
Guess she found something
new.
An understatement
but you will never
understand
nor do I think
you'll care.
pity.
because I do.
about you that is.
Ignore it and go on.
The world will not change
so drastically
because of one foolish
girl's dream.
I don't even qualify
as a passing fancy.
None would give me that glance.
I am just the wallflower,
forgetable in the end,
the one no one notices
til she's gone.
if then.
I will go back to my cave
dig deep in the time
of hibernation
and pray that dreams are
enough to sustain
when all else is denied me.
And if they aren't,
well,
who the hell would notice
the difference anyway?
What a pity
won't even cross your mind
I will just be that face
that stopped showing up.
Guess she found something
new.
An understatement
but you will never
understand
nor do I think
you'll care.
pity.
because I do.
about you that is.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
dark
the paint splashes across the canvas
the words form in the running hues
I try to catch an image
and it is elusive
A swirl of leaves thrown aloft
by the devil's windy twin
slip & slide amid the sleeping trees
kiss my face with death's familiar scent
a long boulevarde, once tamed
by the hands of man
claimed back not to the Cycles
wildness whispers in my ears
Reaching creeping touchy fingers
limbs & leaves & too much familiar
places its mark on the passing year
kicks up clouds of what has gone before
the words form in the running hues
I try to catch an image
and it is elusive
A swirl of leaves thrown aloft
by the devil's windy twin
slip & slide amid the sleeping trees
kiss my face with death's familiar scent
a long boulevarde, once tamed
by the hands of man
claimed back not to the Cycles
wildness whispers in my ears
Reaching creeping touchy fingers
limbs & leaves & too much familiar
places its mark on the passing year
kicks up clouds of what has gone before
Friday, September 30, 2005
the space between dreams
He doesn't know
how I feel
I don't think
he doesn't know how
his eyes make me flush
he doesn't know
I would give him the world
if I could
He was a dream
Half a life ago
and I feel so
complete near him
this time
the passion is different
this time
it is old & familiar
a fire that smolders
deep & comfortable
how I wish
I knew how to tell him
I want to reach
across the chasm
between us
and simply
take his hand
I think in our case
the truth would
speak volumes
we can't admit are there
He doesn't know
what my heart feels
Where do I find
the courage to tell him
how I feel
I don't think
he doesn't know how
his eyes make me flush
he doesn't know
I would give him the world
if I could
He was a dream
Half a life ago
and I feel so
complete near him
this time
the passion is different
this time
it is old & familiar
a fire that smolders
deep & comfortable
how I wish
I knew how to tell him
I want to reach
across the chasm
between us
and simply
take his hand
I think in our case
the truth would
speak volumes
we can't admit are there
He doesn't know
what my heart feels
Where do I find
the courage to tell him
Sunday, September 11, 2005
stone heart
I lost my heart today
I got up and looked
but it was gone.
I guess it was
tired of the abuse
and neglect
and decided
to move on
I carried it in my
pocket,
because it was easier
than wearing it on
my sleeve
It felt
I suppose
I had no more use
for it,
and so decided
to leave
heartbeat
tiny heartbeat
too soft for the world
to hear
where are you lying now
with no one to tend
to your fear
I needed you
if only
to carry what I
can no longer bear
if I knew where to look
I would bring you
home with care
in the middle of
this mortal coil
swimming in this
life of illusion
I have little enough
to hold on to
and now even less
I wonder where a
heart of stone
goes to find reprieve
I would tell it I
would trade places
now
if it would just
choose not to leave
I got up and looked
but it was gone.
I guess it was
tired of the abuse
and neglect
and decided
to move on
I carried it in my
pocket,
because it was easier
than wearing it on
my sleeve
It felt
I suppose
I had no more use
for it,
and so decided
to leave
heartbeat
tiny heartbeat
too soft for the world
to hear
where are you lying now
with no one to tend
to your fear
I needed you
if only
to carry what I
can no longer bear
if I knew where to look
I would bring you
home with care
in the middle of
this mortal coil
swimming in this
life of illusion
I have little enough
to hold on to
and now even less
I wonder where a
heart of stone
goes to find reprieve
I would tell it I
would trade places
now
if it would just
choose not to leave
Saturday, March 26, 2005
This is the End
I choose here to end this.
I choose to cut off its head,
poison dripping from fangs
into my wounded soul.
I choose to bury it
on sacred ground
that it might never
bite again.
I choose the coward's
way out
because all else has
failed me miserably.
I shut the door.
I lose the key.
I turn my back.
I walk away.
I cannot take this
one more time.
I choose to cut off its head,
poison dripping from fangs
into my wounded soul.
I choose to bury it
on sacred ground
that it might never
bite again.
I choose the coward's
way out
because all else has
failed me miserably.
I shut the door.
I lose the key.
I turn my back.
I walk away.
I cannot take this
one more time.
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Epitaph
I feel like a soda bottle
lid screwed off one too many times
fizz seeping away a little more
each time
the coveted prize
stamped so clearly on my head
remains elusive
no matter how I try
I know only this:
the words written inside that
lid
will guide this world to
knowing this soul
when it is gone
by words carved deeply
into the stone:
"Sorry, not a winner.
Please try again."
lid screwed off one too many times
fizz seeping away a little more
each time
the coveted prize
stamped so clearly on my head
remains elusive
no matter how I try
I know only this:
the words written inside that
lid
will guide this world to
knowing this soul
when it is gone
by words carved deeply
into the stone:
"Sorry, not a winner.
Please try again."
Sunday, March 20, 2005
nameless here forever more
I am dying inside.
I have been for years I suppose.
It is just brought home more vividly this day.
One to whom I had dedicated my emotions has said no and expects
me to just take it and move on like it was no big deal.
Fuck him.
I do not accept.
My heart, my affections are not toys to be dicarded when you no longer care about
them.
I am a living breathing person and I deserve that respect.
I am so sick of this.
I never get anything in this life that I want.
no person.
no thing.
no answer.
no rhyme or reason.
What i want doesn’t seem unreasonable to me.
A person to walk with who gives a fuck what I feel and am.
A place to be with that person.
A time of relative peace in this soul, without having to resort to a frontal lobotomy
there is no place for people like me, who are born out side the parameters all the other mundanes choose to live in. I am a poet, a player of words, a mirror for the human condition
If I am truly a reflection of the honest level of that condition right now,
this species is in a shit load of trouble. I am falling apart, for lack of the right kind of nurturing ever being present in this lifetime.
No one wants to nurture the wounded.
no one wants to admit we exist,
though we are but you , living in honesty.
there is only one reason I have not yet stopped my own pain :
karmic law.
It would require that I do it all over again.
I tell you now
that excuse is running thinner by the hour.
I have been for years I suppose.
It is just brought home more vividly this day.
One to whom I had dedicated my emotions has said no and expects
me to just take it and move on like it was no big deal.
Fuck him.
I do not accept.
My heart, my affections are not toys to be dicarded when you no longer care about
them.
I am a living breathing person and I deserve that respect.
I am so sick of this.
I never get anything in this life that I want.
no person.
no thing.
no answer.
no rhyme or reason.
What i want doesn’t seem unreasonable to me.
A person to walk with who gives a fuck what I feel and am.
A place to be with that person.
A time of relative peace in this soul, without having to resort to a frontal lobotomy
there is no place for people like me, who are born out side the parameters all the other mundanes choose to live in. I am a poet, a player of words, a mirror for the human condition
If I am truly a reflection of the honest level of that condition right now,
this species is in a shit load of trouble. I am falling apart, for lack of the right kind of nurturing ever being present in this lifetime.
No one wants to nurture the wounded.
no one wants to admit we exist,
though we are but you , living in honesty.
there is only one reason I have not yet stopped my own pain :
karmic law.
It would require that I do it all over again.
I tell you now
that excuse is running thinner by the hour.
Requiem
Two pennies for my eyes
Let them not forget
The ferry man will pass me by
and I the world to wander
It seems the world
Has no solace
for lonely souls
as I
I get to crossroads
to find the way blocked
and I cannot see
which way to turn
Left,right
forward,back
they are the only choices
unless I choose to jump
the track
and leave the beaten path
so remember the old ways for me
pay the ferryman his due
Close these eyes to all the world
that I might start anew.
Let them not forget
The ferry man will pass me by
and I the world to wander
It seems the world
Has no solace
for lonely souls
as I
I get to crossroads
to find the way blocked
and I cannot see
which way to turn
Left,right
forward,back
they are the only choices
unless I choose to jump
the track
and leave the beaten path
so remember the old ways for me
pay the ferryman his due
Close these eyes to all the world
that I might start anew.
Monday, March 14, 2005
one more time, it seems
love is a cheat
played upon the soul
like so many games
at the penny arcade
a handful of coins
to be spent or hoarded
as wisdom says
if only I’d known
I would have
put them aside
to waste at
another time
a diffferent soul
to spend my
time upon
a waste of change
thrown to the world
by one too naive
to know the difference
Now I stand here
penniless
ashamed
defeated
yet again
the runes said
this pattern
could not
be repeated
without
consequence
I did not take
The Gods
seriously
such am I
made into Icarus
Would that it was enough
to burn me away
to mere ash
As it is
I plummet to
the ground
little more than
a puddle of
useless wax
Yet again
has that deceiver Love
left me damned
damned forever
here
to question my
Self
I accept now
that I am to be alone
for whatever
reason
whatever karma
I have earned
through folly large
or small
I will cease to ask
for any further boon
and ask only of
the One
that It teach me dispassion
that I might never feel like this
again.
I love you anyway
no distance
no time
no other person
will ever change that.
played upon the soul
like so many games
at the penny arcade
a handful of coins
to be spent or hoarded
as wisdom says
if only I’d known
I would have
put them aside
to waste at
another time
a diffferent soul
to spend my
time upon
a waste of change
thrown to the world
by one too naive
to know the difference
Now I stand here
penniless
ashamed
defeated
yet again
the runes said
this pattern
could not
be repeated
without
consequence
I did not take
The Gods
seriously
such am I
made into Icarus
Would that it was enough
to burn me away
to mere ash
As it is
I plummet to
the ground
little more than
a puddle of
useless wax
Yet again
has that deceiver Love
left me damned
damned forever
here
to question my
Self
I accept now
that I am to be alone
for whatever
reason
whatever karma
I have earned
through folly large
or small
I will cease to ask
for any further boon
and ask only of
the One
that It teach me dispassion
that I might never feel like this
again.
I love you anyway
no distance
no time
no other person
will ever change that.
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