Displaying results for "Poem"
it is as if in losing you, I’ve lost the muses too.
my passion, and voice; they silence before the night.
words, and means of expression gone blind for sorrow!
and the colors they described, now muted and gray.
but last, in these final remaining thoughts,
I breath another, final, goodbye.
Today I kissed the rain.
and the wind embraced;
and I found me.
I know why I’m angry,
frustrated and impatient too.
I realize that life is fleeting,
short meetings and just unknowns.
and death can be jarring,
tearing away unannounced.
and so while I’m still living,
I just want to be, with you!
I can fucking smell,
the stench upon your breath,
of teenage angst residues
and tars of thoughtless words,
premature to stain those pearls
and vile to the air we breathe.
And worse is not understanding,
your existence a premature bloom,
now rots to give a putrid foul
reckoning in self destruction,
leaving soon a corpse behind,
furthering the stench we’ll have to breathe.
unsatisfied is what am;
of the who and how of me today,
of where and when that I should be.
as if my passions and ambitions just disappeared,
like waking from a dream - disappointed.
and uncertain is my direction, once so cleared before me.
I seek not the extravagants and riches, but simplicity
and even that is denied to me.
a new dream seems murmuring
but offer so little a guidance.
and it’s just me treading
afloat to tomorrow,
and hold me like a whisper.
Kiss me like a plea."
my pleasure in every way;
now you’re gone: it’s pain."
Despite this calming surface,
resembling the morning dawn,
there lies a heavy current
brimming underneath inside.
At times it’s like winter’s tempest,
a storm of blinding confusion pain,
where darkness shrouds and suffocates,
engulfing every crevices burn.
And the struggle is neither a moment,
but a lifetime of intermingling discoveries,
of life and love, and forgiveness
amidst the suffocation of misery.
For when drowning seems like salvation,
the soul would not resign,
and when the surface shows no danger,
the immortal rages on for life.
If our love is to be
an exchange of you and me,
then my happiness is yours,
and your sorrow’s mine.
As is my light is your life,
and your darkness, my death.
When I think of her,
my soul is turned away,
And here I am to ponder,
If sorrow will ease in time.
Will each passing moment,
each hour of each day,
with months and years expecting,
that I find her absent norm?
And will each increasing laughter
silences the sounds I still can hear -
sounds of ghostly whispers -
resounding within thin air?
Will time have any meaning,
or simply to fade her face away,
and clear me of memories,
including her touch and feel?
If time could have any meaning,
I wish just one thing true,
that I should again find her laughter,
echoing from my lips, anew.
that is what you are to me;
I love how you shine!"
a month now since your depart,
and slow I start, I fear, that I forget.
and bring me a pain if I should fail to remember at all,
of what scents you bring me from your being;
the sounds that’s life from you, your caring words;
surely my senses cannot recognize this void.
This space surrounds me empty; fading, I can’t recall,
when it was filled with you and yours,
now removed, slowly all traces of you.
And a surprise when a hair, a shoe, a sound
I found so familiar you left behind.
and so they bring it back - all over again,
as if you’re still just around the corner to be touched and found.
But I know surely, that you are gone.
And surely it has really been,
a month now since your depart.
yet feels like just yesterday
when we said goodbye."
that you’re not here anymore,
at my every turn."
I gamble, between uncertainties,
questioning my every move.
As if life continually is spinning,
and randomly I’m fixed to fall.
Nothing is controllable,
not even the maker’s hand.
And so I continue with the momentum,
losing myself a bit each day,
until I slow to halt on my number,
hoping you’ve placed a bet on me.