poetry (148)

Beautiful and Blinding

Stepping outOn stepping stonesCracked and ready to crumbleThe slightest pressure or lightest weightBring the depths instantly closerPlummeting to the unknownFacing the unwantedThe sunny sky turns tunnelTurns pinhead, turns blackVertigo, no sign to guideNothing to lean onNo way to track the bubblesAs the drowning ensuesSearing pain, like lighteningBlinds or enlightensA flash of what's to comeFor an instant there is tomorrowIn that instant hope renewsA hint of up or downA choice of directionA path to gloryA way of lifeAnd the sun will never be lost again
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Next

Walk into a roomThere lies the new oneThere lies the one who has your heartBlink and all's forgottenNo scars to hint of painNothing left but happiness to gainAnd so you hold on and you're heldEffortlessly there is more room in your soulDays so readily wastedJust looking in those eyesMelting the outer shellThat took a lifetime to buildIt is so easy to love you
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Voice of an Angel

Chasing time results in immense frustration
Frustration that culminates in pain
The sweet sound of an angels voice
Such release to be had
Eyes closed as the music hums
Melting stress on its path to the soul
It crosses all barriers
It comforts the lonely
And it soothes the sad
It reaches through the core of emotions
Grabbing what happens to exist there
Holding fast for a ride to wherever the music will land
Accompanying melancholy through to brighter days
Smiling within
Absorbing the pain
And leaving things better than when it began



I suppose this is my little thank you to Mr. Thom.
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A Gift

I give to you a gardenComplete in every wayA mixture for the sensesTo ease the pain awayI give you all the flowersThat grow throughout the yearA blanket that is petal softTo wipe away the tearsI give to you a rainbowColors so brilliant and brightTo brighten up your spiritThrough the darkest of the nightsA world of wonder awaitsThough it is not mine to giveI promise I will always tryAs long as I shall live
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Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

Tracing the thoughts with a fingertipLining the clouds with silverPresent feelings from past mistakesProof that change is goodPerspicuity from a lazy dreamThoughts like jumping beansBouncing off of shady cornersWaking what lies in quiescenceScratching light into the darknessWith a stretch and a yawnFolding what was into what isForming what will be
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Broken and Beautiful

I know youI know you because I am youI see myself in your eyesI wish I was who you believe me to beI wish I knew me like you know meYou trust because I have proven to be trustworthyYou believe in me because I have yet to let you downYou love because you perceive the good in meI am not evil, but I am not perfectFlawed and broken, am I still beautiful?
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The Right Thing

A storm is brewing in the airA tempest on the horizonMisery is up on endAnchoring itself to fightPins and needlesIn the eye of the stormCalm is all but fleetingBlack skies ensueAs fear climbs over barricadesWhat to do? What to do?Preparations are uselessBarreling through wallsRipping through the strongest willReduced to childrenClutching at the breast of mother earthVying for positionAfraid to give up the easyIs there one right path?There never is just one right answerLightning strikes again and againSame place, same placeMelted souls of hopeful doubtAll or nothingBlack or whiteRight or wrongIf only life was like a sunny shore
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At 18

At 18 you are not who your parents perceive you to beAt 18 the mistakes you make are yours aloneAt 18 you learn life's lessons can be brutalAt 18 you think a broken heart is a mortal woundAt 18 you don't know who areAt 18 you have dreamsAt 18 the world is yoursAt 18 you CAN do anythingAt 18 you can be who you want to beAt 18 you can make your own choicesAt 18 set backs do not defeat youAt 18 you are freeAt 18 there is always time
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Alternate Reality

Open eyes can see as it all floats far awayThough denial runs deep even in the face of self-realizationStanding still in hopes that a small part will lingerVisions of yesterday's happiness shade today's shameDifferent hues can tighten the squeezeSmall bits of who you thought you were run outLost in the vast nothingness that has taken holdTwisted views of reality skew the mind against youIn a good moment there is peaceToo quickly forgotten, too quickly lostSearching to find a shortcut back to who you want to beRealizing in darkness that maybe, that never existedWondering if in this so-called truth lies the reality of othersIs this who you are?Is this who they see?You can choose to live in the worst thoughts of you,Or believe in the best version of yourself
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Escape

Tie-dyed psychedelic swirling thoughtsMid-day nightmares tied in knotsJagged edges of broken mindsUntamed beauty so unkindHoney sweet and sappy placesCharcoal eyes on empty facesInside ugly seeps through perfectionBlocking daylights warm reflectionChasing nothing standing stillRaining brimstone breaks the willHeld fast in place by testimonyIndecipherable real or phonyUndependable instincts and cloudy visionInhibits any and all decisionsHand-mixed daydreams light and creamyCandy coated happiness, all is dreamy
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Weightless Longing

Weight of the worldBroken shoulders and cracked spinesLong run consequencesShort run blissWhat's right for nowOr what's right for laterGood for oneOr good for othersRubber arms cannot balance the sidesToday's frustration swallows tomorrowDelinquent youthIntolerant with ageRules or freedomIs there freedom within the rulesIs tomorrow forever tainted by mistakes from todayPerhaps tomorrow is tainted by things further in the pastThen again, could that be where true liberty liesLetting go of bad choicesLiving with the bed you made by accidentDo accidents really existIs there even a pathMistakes that matter need not be ones ownBuried under a world of nothingnessIt matters to no one but you
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Left hangin'

FloatingHoping to catch an eyeEven the eye of a stormWaitingFor someone else to doWishingTo be noticedNot wanting to be judgedLongingTo have some course of actionNon-action is an action of choiceLookingFor someone else to seeTo see importance in what has been leftFloating
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Things Change

Counting on the everydayThe eye is caught by a lost soulFamiliarity is strong, but the eyes go emptyCalling for attention goes unnoticedReaching out, your hand passes right throughAs if an apparition, seemingly solid yet made of mistThere is nothing to grasp ontoSo the once familiar passes by unable to find its wayNot really searching for it, the soul continues to wanderWatching as its surroundings seem to swallow it all at onceWanting to follow and fix what you are not sure is even brokenStopped by nothing in particular, that first step is never takenWondering if your paths will cross again
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Liquid Sex

The slightest whisper of the warmest touchThe breath of motion in the still of nightBlood rushes to the surface leaving fire in its wake,as it follows the slightest movement,the faintest touch, the longing for moreElectricity jumps the gapIntensity amplified by the exquisite acheStirring deep withinRadiating shock waves that tetherTwo becoming one
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Memories

Treasured moments lost in timeRelived in dreams or nightmaresTo wake with a longing long since passedTo sleep and be swept away to what was once forgottenPrevious happiness is remembered as holyNo anger, no sadness, no discontentIt is, after all, a dream of what wasImperfection is reality as it was back thenDreams sift out the ugly and unpleasantAll that is left is the sparkle of diamond dustTwinkling stars of a happy heartIt is not wise to judge today by yesterdayOr tomorrow by todayThe good is to be wrapped up and kept warmThe tarnished should be left to melt into nothingEach smile stored in a safe place to be called upon as neededToday's treasured moments are tomorrow's dreams
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Dwelling

Saddened by fear of the unknownFrightened for all that might beDrowning in the sludge caused by maybeFighting to ignore what they seeEveryone has an opinionWorries kept in closed fistTired of choking on the emptyMisunderstandings give way to be pissedStruggling to make sense of the senselessThe worst thoughts darken the mindDiscouraged by the time that's been wastedDistraction would be quite a find
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The Torturous Wait

Every time the head turns something new is foundEach speck weighs heavily, infinitely more than the lastImmobilized by the lack of thought or wondermentNumbness begins in body and culminates in a foggy mindSuffocation under the thought that there is nothing elseYanked out of grasp yet slammed on the shouldersThe weight is cumbersome, yet born gladlyAll that can be done is doneTime tells all, yet does not always healRelaxing is not an option and trying highlights the failure to do soIt will come to an end soon enough
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