Times

July 30, 2012

Those times when love and pain
are both the same,
when solitude and death
are all you feel is left.

Those times when happiness
escapes and loneliness
makes your world feel cold
and freezes your soul.

Those times when you feel
like the only thing that’s real
is the sorrow in your heart
that’s tearing you apart.

Those times when the depth of depression
seems like the only remaining option,
like there is no way back to the light
and no point in continuing to fight.

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xxx. Today

February 15, 2011

Across windswept plains,
Your love reaches me;
Through letters and IMs,
I know you still belong to me.

We charted a new course,
Knowing it would fail,
But promises when love is new,
Are like sandcastles before the tide.

What she thought was love,
Was to be the end of her,
For when she found out she’d been wrong,
What had she to live for?

What happened that night,
It was more than sex;
It was an excuse for what they felt;
A way to forget their love.

His gifts were wrapped with care,
And left her breathless and weak;
How could she now say,
What she had come to say?

 

 

Inspired by a series of prompts on Twitter, from both @MyWordWizard and @PoetNub

xiv. Love Lost

January 18, 2011

Can nothing in the shadows shine? Like polished crystal in the dark —
Reflections ambushed; dull and bleak — the memories of broken hearts,
Their features blurred, like photos bleached, fade quickly into yesterday,
As stories told of romance past, with facts replaced and details lost,
Recount a love once held so dear as nothing more than fleeting fun.

Can nothing in the daylight hide? My lies, so intricately spun,
A spider’s web on wintry dawn: Clever yet not good enough.
A stutter or a nervous smile, the tell-tale flash of icy white,
A cold betrayal, warning all that come across it not to stray.
Thus I am left without; My fleeing prey, the love that I so thrive.

I’ve loved before and I’ve been loved, but now, my lovers gone, my heart,
Has scratched their names from pages in the journals of my memory.
I try to go back to that time; to picture myself in those days;
To see the faces of my past and tell them how they ‘mean the world;’
They’re ‘Everything to me,’ alas what’s gone is gone, and is no more.

So here I’m left to try again; to search the world for love anew,
And try to find what once I had; to fill the void that now resides,
But I already know too well I’ll never find that place again.
And I can never keep the lie that I’m in love alive for long;
I cannot make the words seem real, and soon I’m on my own again.

iii. Sermon of Man

January 4, 2011

“We want to feel free,” cried the congregation.
“And what is your prison?” came the response.

“Your prison is the walls you build.
The bricks, you lay with disbelief;
The constraints, you place upon yourself,
When you listen to those who tell you what you cannot do.
You want to feel free, you say?
First, you must free yourself from the shackles of impossibility.
If you can do this –
If you can begin to believe in your own potential again –
Then you can feel free.”

“We want to feel alive,” was the plea.
“And where is your coffin?” he replied.

“Your coffin is buried deep inside yourself.
The nails, you hammer with self-regard;
The dirt, you shovel with pride,
When you worry about what others will think.
You want to feel alive, you say?
First, you must awaken yourself to the insignificance of opinion.
If you can do this –
If you can act without worrying for your reputation –
Then you can feel alive.”

“We want to feel happy,” the masses begged.
“And where is your sorrow?” was the swift retort.

“Your sorrow is tethered to your past.
The pain, you cause with obsession;
The grief, you plant with scrutiny,
When you replay your unpleasant memories over and again.
You want to feel happy, you say?
First, you must cease to torment yourself with what has been done.
If you can do this –
If you can live in the present and appreciate the here-and-now –
Then you can feel happy.”

“We want to feel loved,” echoed their entreaty.
“And who is your loneliness?” the instant query.

“Your loneliness is none other than yourself.
The solitude, you cast with fear;
The exile, you order with your cowardice,
When you shy away from getting close for dread of being hurt.
You want to feel loved, you say?
First, you must make yourself vulnerable.
If you can do this –
If you can throw yourself on the mercy of another’s heart –
Then you can feel loved.”